Subterranean Jungle (1983)
Somehow, this turned into a fucking long entry with a lot of rambling and unfinished thoughts. Guess I'm tired.
The Exchange has been slow lately, or maybe it’s the same pace, it just feels slower because the hours are longer. I can’t legitimately claim to have something better to do with my time than sit behind a counter getting paid to listen to music though.
Picked up ‘End of the Century: The Story of the Ramones’ last night. I’d seen it ages ago when it was playing the indie cinema up the street and I couldn’t shake the power of it for weeks.
For those who don’t know, ‘End of the Century’ was the sixth studio album for the Ramones and was produced by Phil Spector. It was supposed to be their greatest album, was supposed to break them in the mainstream. But it didn’t.
Last year, the documentary ‘End of the Century: The Story of the Ramones’ was released for commercial consumption. Believe me when I tell you that it is one of the best band documentaries ever made. It was unfortunately made after Joey’s death and as such only featured old interviews with him, but Dee Dee, Johnny, Tommy, Marky, Richie and CJ were all still alive and well and participated unreservedly in the creation of this piece.
Johnny himself said ‘Its accurate, it left me disturbed’ after having screened it. And that’s a lot coming from this man, as you come to learn by watching it.
There are a few things that always get to me about their story, actually, I find all of it completely engrossing, but the real heavy hitting moments for me are Joey’s death and Linda.
Joey Ramone passed away on April fifteenth, 2001. According to his brother, Joey had been convinced that he was going to live, and survive lymphoma. Days before he died, he refused to allow the doctors to feed him through a tube down his throat for fear that it would damage his vocal cords. The man was forty-nine years old, dying, had spent over twenty years of his life touring incessantly with the Ramones and never getting the recognition he deserved. But he still refused to be finished. He refused in order to preserve his voice.
I can’t explain it, but the thought of it just chokes me right up and twists my gut. The only word I can think of is ‘awe’.
In the doc, you get both Dee Dee and Johnny’s reactions to Joey’s death. Dee Dee seems very sad about it, he obviously regrets having not been there, having not had that last conversation. Johnny does not regret his decision to stay away, and to stay silent, explaining that he treated Joey the way he would have wanted to be treated. He wouldn’t have wanted someone he hated calling him up on his deathbed to finally try and fix things because they know it’s too late for the fixing to mean anything. And in that you can see just home much he cared, it was just a different way of showing it.
I’m telling the story out of order, but it’s more that I’m not telling the whole story. I don’t have the time to, go rent the doc.
But allow me to tell you a bit more about the other part of the story, a part that ties in with the ending.
Her name was Linda. And that in itself says it all.
Linda was Joey’s girlfriend. Later, she was Johnny’s wife and we had ‘The KKK took my baby away’ playing on our stereos.
Joey and Johnny never reconciled. And yet they continued recording and touring together for years afterwards. It didn’t matter if they hated each other, it didn’t matter if they got along, they were the Ramones and continued to be that for over twenty years.
The dedication never ceases to amaze me. I don’t know if I would be able to do that, hold the grudge or work with someone despite it. And when you take into consideration the fact that Linda and Johnny got married and stayed together for the rest of his life, you can see that it wasn’t your typical in band rivalry. It wasn’t Johnny taking something from Joey just because he could. And Joey must have known that, been able to see that. Joey’s brother theorizes that it wasn’t that Johnny stole Linda that got him, it was the fact that they never spoke about it. They never explained it, or tried to smooth things outs with him.
Through the doc you can see that the Ramones were a family, brothers in how they treated each other. When I say that, I mean it in the sense of real siblings. Real siblings take each other for granted and treat each other like shit, but stay together and love each other anyway. Even if the line is crossed and then pissed on.
Or maybe it was an addiction. Joey became a different man when he was on stage. Johnny speaks about how he loved the Ramones, and so if you were a part of the Ramones, he had your back. It was about the band, not the individuals. And the highs were the highest they could ever achieve, the fix so great they would do anything for it. Even put up with each other.
I had to think about it for a second, I was torn between pity and admiration. Finally though, I admire them. Or more the situation. Looking at it from the outside, the intensity has the allure of fire to moths. I can’t help but wonder if they knew, or if they had grown numb to it.
Twenty years from now (assuming I manage to live that long), I’ll look back on my life as it is now and say ‘How did I do it?’ But right now it feels like I’m not doing anything.
When I was in high school, I had a total bitch for an English teacher. She liked to pull me aside and tell me I acted like a know-it-all after she asked me to start class discussions, and then would send me to the guidance counselor for ‘disruptive behavior’ when I ignored her in class.
On one of my essays, she decided to give me some advice and wrote me this huge paragraph theorizing that I was the type to sabotage my own success which is why I was doing poorly in her class.
I thought she was full of shit, but the idea of your brain subconsciously undermining your conscious intent stuck with me.
When I sit down and think about it, I know that I can get us out of here. I know where to compromise in myself, what to do and how to go about it. We don’t have to be here like this. But we are, and I can’t see us ever not being.
Lysgar is addictive, or maybe it’s just familiar. Maybe I’m so firmly entrenched in my day to day here that I’m sabotaging myself, keeping myself from changing it. Settling.
Maybe I’ve gone numb to it.
Lysgar is the stage, the other tenants the audience that changes faces but stays essentially the same. And I come out to meet them, night after night for twenty-some years, in my torn jeans and leather jacket, hair in a bowl cut. The same songs, harder and faster. Everything always the same. Stuck in a time loop because I don’t know what else to do with myself.
The Red Hot Chili Peppers are one of the many bands to claim the Ramones as a major influence, and one of the ones that achieved great commercial success and mass appreciation while their mentors remained far from the limelight. On January 14th, 2005, five months after Johnny Ramone’s death due to cancer, a monument was unveiled in his honor in the Hollywood Cemetery. All RHCP band members were present.
It was 1991’s ‘Blood Sugar Sex Magik’ that sent the Red Hot Chili Peppers to superstardom, turning rock on its head by having their most recognizable song being the ballad ‘Under the Bridge’. The album is a well crafted showcase of the RHCP ability to marry various styles of music, influences from rock, punk, ska, funk, blues and more all finding a way into the overtones and undertones of all the tracks.
The song I’m going to showcase is ‘I could have lied’. Joey, Johnny, Linda…this is for you guys, and for the romantics who want to think that everything that happened between you three stemmed from love. At its best and worst, all at once.
The Exchange has been slow lately, or maybe it’s the same pace, it just feels slower because the hours are longer. I can’t legitimately claim to have something better to do with my time than sit behind a counter getting paid to listen to music though.
Picked up ‘End of the Century: The Story of the Ramones’ last night. I’d seen it ages ago when it was playing the indie cinema up the street and I couldn’t shake the power of it for weeks.
For those who don’t know, ‘End of the Century’ was the sixth studio album for the Ramones and was produced by Phil Spector. It was supposed to be their greatest album, was supposed to break them in the mainstream. But it didn’t.
Last year, the documentary ‘End of the Century: The Story of the Ramones’ was released for commercial consumption. Believe me when I tell you that it is one of the best band documentaries ever made. It was unfortunately made after Joey’s death and as such only featured old interviews with him, but Dee Dee, Johnny, Tommy, Marky, Richie and CJ were all still alive and well and participated unreservedly in the creation of this piece.
Johnny himself said ‘Its accurate, it left me disturbed’ after having screened it. And that’s a lot coming from this man, as you come to learn by watching it.
There are a few things that always get to me about their story, actually, I find all of it completely engrossing, but the real heavy hitting moments for me are Joey’s death and Linda.
Joey Ramone passed away on April fifteenth, 2001. According to his brother, Joey had been convinced that he was going to live, and survive lymphoma. Days before he died, he refused to allow the doctors to feed him through a tube down his throat for fear that it would damage his vocal cords. The man was forty-nine years old, dying, had spent over twenty years of his life touring incessantly with the Ramones and never getting the recognition he deserved. But he still refused to be finished. He refused in order to preserve his voice.
I can’t explain it, but the thought of it just chokes me right up and twists my gut. The only word I can think of is ‘awe’.
In the doc, you get both Dee Dee and Johnny’s reactions to Joey’s death. Dee Dee seems very sad about it, he obviously regrets having not been there, having not had that last conversation. Johnny does not regret his decision to stay away, and to stay silent, explaining that he treated Joey the way he would have wanted to be treated. He wouldn’t have wanted someone he hated calling him up on his deathbed to finally try and fix things because they know it’s too late for the fixing to mean anything. And in that you can see just home much he cared, it was just a different way of showing it.
I’m telling the story out of order, but it’s more that I’m not telling the whole story. I don’t have the time to, go rent the doc.
But allow me to tell you a bit more about the other part of the story, a part that ties in with the ending.
Her name was Linda. And that in itself says it all.
Linda was Joey’s girlfriend. Later, she was Johnny’s wife and we had ‘The KKK took my baby away’ playing on our stereos.
Joey and Johnny never reconciled. And yet they continued recording and touring together for years afterwards. It didn’t matter if they hated each other, it didn’t matter if they got along, they were the Ramones and continued to be that for over twenty years.
The dedication never ceases to amaze me. I don’t know if I would be able to do that, hold the grudge or work with someone despite it. And when you take into consideration the fact that Linda and Johnny got married and stayed together for the rest of his life, you can see that it wasn’t your typical in band rivalry. It wasn’t Johnny taking something from Joey just because he could. And Joey must have known that, been able to see that. Joey’s brother theorizes that it wasn’t that Johnny stole Linda that got him, it was the fact that they never spoke about it. They never explained it, or tried to smooth things outs with him.
Through the doc you can see that the Ramones were a family, brothers in how they treated each other. When I say that, I mean it in the sense of real siblings. Real siblings take each other for granted and treat each other like shit, but stay together and love each other anyway. Even if the line is crossed and then pissed on.
Or maybe it was an addiction. Joey became a different man when he was on stage. Johnny speaks about how he loved the Ramones, and so if you were a part of the Ramones, he had your back. It was about the band, not the individuals. And the highs were the highest they could ever achieve, the fix so great they would do anything for it. Even put up with each other.
I had to think about it for a second, I was torn between pity and admiration. Finally though, I admire them. Or more the situation. Looking at it from the outside, the intensity has the allure of fire to moths. I can’t help but wonder if they knew, or if they had grown numb to it.
Twenty years from now (assuming I manage to live that long), I’ll look back on my life as it is now and say ‘How did I do it?’ But right now it feels like I’m not doing anything.
When I was in high school, I had a total bitch for an English teacher. She liked to pull me aside and tell me I acted like a know-it-all after she asked me to start class discussions, and then would send me to the guidance counselor for ‘disruptive behavior’ when I ignored her in class.
On one of my essays, she decided to give me some advice and wrote me this huge paragraph theorizing that I was the type to sabotage my own success which is why I was doing poorly in her class.
I thought she was full of shit, but the idea of your brain subconsciously undermining your conscious intent stuck with me.
When I sit down and think about it, I know that I can get us out of here. I know where to compromise in myself, what to do and how to go about it. We don’t have to be here like this. But we are, and I can’t see us ever not being.
Lysgar is addictive, or maybe it’s just familiar. Maybe I’m so firmly entrenched in my day to day here that I’m sabotaging myself, keeping myself from changing it. Settling.
Maybe I’ve gone numb to it.
Lysgar is the stage, the other tenants the audience that changes faces but stays essentially the same. And I come out to meet them, night after night for twenty-some years, in my torn jeans and leather jacket, hair in a bowl cut. The same songs, harder and faster. Everything always the same. Stuck in a time loop because I don’t know what else to do with myself.
The Red Hot Chili Peppers are one of the many bands to claim the Ramones as a major influence, and one of the ones that achieved great commercial success and mass appreciation while their mentors remained far from the limelight. On January 14th, 2005, five months after Johnny Ramone’s death due to cancer, a monument was unveiled in his honor in the Hollywood Cemetery. All RHCP band members were present.
It was 1991’s ‘Blood Sugar Sex Magik’ that sent the Red Hot Chili Peppers to superstardom, turning rock on its head by having their most recognizable song being the ballad ‘Under the Bridge’. The album is a well crafted showcase of the RHCP ability to marry various styles of music, influences from rock, punk, ska, funk, blues and more all finding a way into the overtones and undertones of all the tracks.
The song I’m going to showcase is ‘I could have lied’. Joey, Johnny, Linda…this is for you guys, and for the romantics who want to think that everything that happened between you three stemmed from love. At its best and worst, all at once.