Sarre-Chasm

All Punked Out in ’97

by Jon Sarre
Illustration by Eric Johnson

“It’s 1977/Hope I go to heaven,” went a song written on the occasion of the Year the Two Sevens Clashed. It was the year Rasta was gonna return to Africa (but didn’t). It was the year rock’n’roll was gonna be destroyed or transformed, depending on whose (J. Rotten’s or J. Strummer’s) scenario you accepted.

“Well kiddies, it’s 1987, punk rock is ten years old and could someone please tell me what we’ve got to show for all this…” an obscure Pennsylvania band called Little Gentlemen asked in an introduction to their “Just Waiting (For the Civil War)” (see the Flipside Vinyl Fanzine 3 compilation). I’d be of the opinion that they were a bit off on their math, but why quibble over dates? That question is just as valid ten years later, especially when 1996 seemed to spawn an abundance of punk rock bands that only exist to show the world how “punk” they are (kinda like `70s bands who were so “rockin'” they could “rock” you all “rock and roll” nite “rock” long “rock, rock, rock, aren’t you ready to rock’n’roll?”).

Hell, if I were one to make New Years resolutions, one of mine would’ve been to not even use the word “punk” – not as an adjective, a noun, or even a verb (absolutely the goofiest usage of the term I’ve ever seen and I’m just as guilty as anyone else of pulling “this out-punks that”-type hyperbole). So when everyone’s punk, does that make everyone who isn’t punk the only true punks? We live in confusing times, indeed.

So, what’s in store for 1997? Glam resurrection? Goth resurgence? Prog explosion? A sudden unexplained interest in Eastern European folk forms? More of the same alterno/music formally referred to as “punk rock”/fashion statement-core doled out to keep the cutting edge-dwellers looking over their shoulders? Now I think I understand Greil Marcus’ unconditional love for Springsteen – the Boss keeps the guy going. He’d probably’ve stuck his Francophile head in the oven a long time ago if it weren’t for Bruce.

Unfortunately for me, my oven doesn’t work right (plus it’s electric) and Springsteen gives me the creeps. Needless to say, I had to find the middle road in between heaping lavish (and unnecessary) praise on a millionaire rock star and doing myself in.

I don’t know what you folks out there in Readership Land (population: You, yes, you!) do in these situations, but I find that making pointless lists is quite an enjoyable diversion (as well as a wonderful space-filling aid). So here’s a list. It’s got no particular direction, just hopes, fears, predictions, and the occasional legitimate entry thrown in to add some credibility to this shameless puff piece.

Things to Watch (Out?) For in 1997

• New Royal Trux Release
  The follow up to 1995’s Thank You has been delayed by, umm… their label’s seeming refusal to release it. An advance copy I heard kinda gives the impression that they’re building on the song-style structure of the previous record, but also throwing in lotsa meaningless examples of tone-deaf junkie guitar wankertude that don’t really fit anywhere, but are just sorta there. It should be interesting once someone releases it.
• Black Flag Reunion Tour
  “Still Damaged After All These Years”? “Slip It In (One More Time)”? You’ve seen the Pistols, you’ve seen the Descendents, you may have seen the Circle Jerks, you probably saw Kiss, now see once-Mansonoid-psycho-creep turned health-nut-self-help-dickhead-poet-jock Henry Rollins again share the stage with ex-chopped-synapses-grind-guitar-hero now fusion-fret-jazz-doodler-geek Greg Ginn. Could it get worse? Sure, call up Robo or Chuck Biscuits or Bill Stevenson and Kira Roessler (or make it real punk and get Dukowski and Dez Cadena, they probably have more time on their hands anyway). Then get ready for Get in the Van Part II!
• 8.11.97 TULSA OK
  Lying on my bunk in my bus, thinking about how cheap Life is. Thinking about how I wish I could just negate myself. Be nobody, forever, until Death. Saw the rest of the band drive by in the van they travel in. They waved. I wished I had a chair to throw at them.

Some New Sensation Will Come Out of England and Be Wildly Popular For a Couple of Weeks, Months, Years or Maybe All Eternity.

• Firefly Wreck
  Yeah, I know you’ve never heard of them, but if improvisational ambient noise is your thing (and who doesn’t go for that?), there’s an LP on Imp Records that’s worth seeking out. Tape loops, guitars, drums (and sometimes dripping water, a Moog, more guitars, chatting street people and the occasional cello) create a wash of noises which build to a sometimes premeditated roar. Then the next song starts. (Imp Records P.O. Box 134 Portland, OR 97209)
• The Butthole Surfers Will Have a Surprise Commercial Radio Hit
  Oh sorry, that was last year.
• I’ll End Up Re-Writing This Piece Next Year
  If the world doesn’t end between then and now. Happy New Year.

Correction/Clarification

In the December issue’s Jon Spencer Blues Explosion review, I wrote something to the effect that Now I Got Worry is “a Blues Explosion record in the same way a Stones record is a Stones record.” Now, by my own specious logic, this would imply that all Rolling Stones records are roughly equal in the quality of the content. That, of course, is untrue, since the Stones have made and continue to make plenty of shitty records.

Well, kinda like Tattoo You or It’s Only Rock’n’Roll, Now I Got Worry sounds less impressive with every listen. In fact, it’s pretty damn uninspired. Thus to re-apply the Stones analogy, Now I Got Worry is pretty much Goat Head Soup to Crypt Style’s Exile on Main Street (or maybe Emotional Rescue to Orange’s Some Girls). Hope this clears everything up. Sorry for any inconvenience.