Standing Over By The Record Machine: Cherry Red Records’ Blank Generation and Pushin’ Too Hard compilations are the best kinda archeology
Boxed, multi-disc deep-dives into ‘70s US punk and ‘60s garage are expansive and well-considered aesthetic statements.
All things punk essentially begin with Richard Hell, seen here with The Voidoids. (Pic: Discogs)
VARIOUS ARTISTS — Blank Generation: A Story Of US/Canadian Punk and its Aftershocks 1975-1981 [Cherry Red Records UK] 5CD set
VARIOUS ARTISTS — Pushin’ Too Hard: American Garage Punk 1964-1967 [Cherry Red Records UK] 3CD set
I've written it many times, and I'll probably write it countless more before I die and turn to dust. But punk rock existed before punk rock. And before that, there was more punk rock. I'm confident that if you delve far enough into history, you'll find ancient punk rock.
Essentially, whenever the disenfranchised need a war cry, some brave soul finds a way of saying, “FUCK THIS!” And as Henry Rollins put it in Don Letts’ brilliant documentary Punk: Attitude: “Everyone goes, ‘Voice of a generation! Thank you! I’ve been thinking that, but I never had the guts to say it!’ And all of a sudden, ‘FUCK THIS!’ has a backbeat.”
Remember, the term “punk rock” was first applied to the music compiled by Lenny Kaye in his Nuggets album in 1972, what we now call “garage” or “garage punk.” Except in Europe, where they pronounce “garage” differently and call that fuzztone-and-Farfisa sound “freakbeat.” John Holmstrom and Legs McNeil used the term for the simple '70s rock ‘n’ roll at CBGB when they named their fanzine Punk magazine. Later, it was used for similar music worldwide, despite American journalists wrongly thinking it started with Sex Pistols in England.
The reality is, if you want to dismiss The Holy Trinity of The Stooges/MC5/New York Dolls as “protopunk” rather than punk rock proper, you can’t even point to the Ramones as the Fathers Of It All. Perfecters of the form, certainly, as well as its Johnny Appleseed-like propagators the world over. Because they got beat to everything by Richard Hell, the guy who provides Cherry Red with the title/opening track for its comprehensive box set Blank Generation: A Story Of US/Canadian Punk and its Aftershocks 1975-1981. Television, when Hell was part of its creative core, played the sorta jagged ‘70s update of Nuggets-style garage filtered through The Stooges that came to characterize the term “punk.” That spiky-haired/slashed-and-safety-pinned look was another of Hell’s innovations, to be assumed by everyone alongside that sonic crunch sound. So of course his anthem “Blank Generation,” with its message of reinvention in a hostile world, was the perfect frame for Cherry Red to hang its overview of US and Canadian ‘70s punk upon.
Blank Generation: A Story Of US/Canadian Punk & Its Aftershocks 1975-1981 is a five-disc, six hour monster chronicling punk’s explosive rise across the North American continent during the mid-70s, coast-to-coast and burgeoning North. Some might scoff at the inclusion of Canada alongside the US. But the Great White North had its fair share of sonic shrapnel to offer. Bands like D.O.A. and Teenage Head proved that rebellion wasn't confined by borders. They brought a uniquely aggressive sound to the table, a snarl that perfectly captured the frustration of a generation disillusioned with disco and arena rock. Neither D.O.A. nor Teenage Head are present, which hardly makes this complete. But poptastic Canadian acts such as Pointed Sticks (“What Do You Want Me To Do?”), The Young Canadians (“Hawaii”), Modernettes (“Barbra”) and ramshackle-but-amazing girl group The Dishrags (“I Don’t Love You”) are no slouches, alongside the more rock ‘n’ roll thrills of The Demics (“New York City”).
But the meat of Blank Generation is the American stuff. All the heavy hitters besides Hell are present and accounted for: Obviously the Ramones’ blitzkrieg surfisms (“Rockaway Beach”), Television's jagged perfection (“Friction”), Patti Smith's poetic fury (“Pissing in a River”) and the Dead Boys’ young/loud/snotty power-rocker “Sonic Reducer” and The Heartbreakers’ Dee Dee Ramone & Richard Hell-penned ode to smack addiction “Chinese Rocks.” Still, the beauty of the set is its lack of concentration strictly on the big names, spreading the focus across the US. So you get more regional acts such as the Stoogetastic DMZ (“Bad Attitude”), the similar Los Angeles-by-way-of-Detroit band The DoGs (“John Rock,” their salute to MC5 manager John Sinclair), The Avengers’ we’re-taking-over anthem “We Are The One,” the American Generation X-isms of SHOCK (“This Generation’s On Vacation”), and OG afropunks Pure Hell (“Noise Addiction”), among a thousand million more worthy three chord wonders.
But the other thing Blank Generation does right is utilizing the original broad interpretation of “punk rock.” Hence we get Suicide’s unrelenting electro-shockabilly (“Rocket USA”), The Cramps’ primal punkabilly (“TV Set”), the avant-garage of Pere Ubu (“Final Solution”), the avant-Stooges fuckery of both MX-80 Sound (“Someday You’ll Be King”) and Chrome (“New Age,” though I would have picked something like “TV As Eyes”), plus power poppers such as Sneakers (“Condition Red”) and the rather Sparks-oid The Quick (“Pretty Please,” better known in a rendition by The Dickies, who are also here doing “Fan Mail”). Even The Residents’ high weirdness is represented in their even-more-intense-than-Devo deconstruction of “Satisfaction.” It’s a reminder that punk was meant to be more a philosophy and working methodology than 1-2-3-4 post-Ramones ramalama. Not that there’s anything wrong with that! Blank Generation is a treasure trove for punk archaeologists and newbies alike.
The Seeds, singer Sky Saxon second from right: Prince Valiant haircuts and needlenose corduroy trousers. (Pic: Facebook)
So, for that matter, is Pushin’ Too Hard: American Garage Punk 1964-1967, which examines that period when every US neighborhood had a band blasting through Silvertone amps in the carport. Every member had Prince Valiant haircuts ala Brian Jones (a tradition Johnny Ramone kept alive), Beatle boots and needle nose corduroy trousers, and every Stones and Yardbirds record. This is basically punk’s mid-’60s birth pangs. And while it’s true the ‘60s garage era has been anthologized to death since Lenny Kaye turned around the original Nuggets to Elektra Records’ Jac Holzman, it’s not been done the way Cherry Red’s Strawberry sub-imprint has here.
For one thing, the 94 tracks compiler/annotator Jon Harrington has painstakingly assembled here only duplicates two from the original Nuggets – The Seeds’ monumental title track, presented here in an unedited take; and The Castaways’ eerie “Liar Liar.” Whereas if you compare it with Rhino Records’ 1998 4 disc box set expansion of Nuggets, there’s a whopping 17 duplicate tracks between the two. Then if you compare and contrast with my personal favorite garage comp other than the Nuggets box set, being Warner Special Products’ 1980 2-record TV offer Wild Thing, there’s a mere five cloned tracks between the two.
This is because Harrington chose to embed as much Pebbles or Boulders DNA in Pushin’ Too Hard as Nuggets genetic material. He chose as many deep cuts as hits, such as representing The Standells not with “Dirty Water,” but the lesser-known “Rari.” (Mind you, I’d have picked “Riot On The Sunset Strip.” Which I can, when I get to put together my garage comp, I suppose….) And yes, “You’re Gonna Miss Me” is here, but not by The 13th Floor Elevators, but the jug-less original by Roky Erickson’s first band, The Spades. For every “Wooly Bully” or “I Fought The Law,” there’s 15 titanium steel raunch-outs like “Justine” by The Rangers, or tough-minded stomps like The Emperor’s (yes, with an apostrophe) and “I Want My Woman.”
These tracks are pure, unadulterated rock ‘n’ roll – guitars dripping fuzz, pounding drums, and vocals that sound like they were recorded in a wind tunnel. The bands here – The Sonics, The Standells, The Seeds – may not have called themselves punks, but their music was pure rebellion, a primal scream against the conformity of the era. Pushin’ Too Hard’s strength, like Blank Generation’s, is in not merely documenting the obvious hitters but digging deep, unearthing forgotten gems from regional scenes across the country. These are the bands that never quite made it, the ones who played teen clubs and frat parties, spewing out raw energy that never got bottled. It's a testament to punk’s eternal DIY spirit, a reminder that the revolution starts in basements and garages, not on stadium stages.
Both sets are essential. Cherry Red deserves a gold star for these meticulously curated collections. Blank Generation is a sprawling sonic adventure, a reminder that punk wasn't just about three chords and the truth, but was a diverse and explosive movement, located not just not in NYC but all over. Pushin’ Too Hard is a gritty time capsule, a testament to the raw material fueling the ‘70s punk outbreak.
#TimNapalmStegall #TimStegall #TimNapalmStegallSubstack #PunkJournalism #StandingOverByTheRecordMachine #RecordReview #CherryRedRecords #BlankGeneration #PushinTooHard #punkrock #music #compilations #archeology #garagepunk #Nuggets #rocknroll #DIY #punkhistory #musicanthology #punkmovement #punkculture #punkphilosophy #punkarchaeologists #newbies #punkrevolution #rockhistory #rawenergy #regionalbands #forgottengems #sonicadventure #musiccurator #DIYspirit #punkoutbreak #SupportIndependentMedia #NapalmNation #SubscribeNow #Monthly #Annually #UpgradeYourFreeSubscription #BestWayToSupport
Cool to see DMZ & Dishrags on that comp. Dishrags were great and deserve massive credit. Vancouver punk scene was way too good for what a dead end city it was.
What sucks is that Sky Saxon died on the same day as Michael Jackson and Farah Fawcett, so he got no attention. MJ I didn't care about, Farah, maybe a little. But Sky was a titan and deserved better.