Gord Lewis WAS Teenage Head
The guitarist/songwriter/founding member of first-wave Canadian punk band has been found dead at age 65.
Listen to Teenage Head’s best of, Fun Comes Fast (2017), as you read:
The city of Hamilton, Ontario lies 40 miles west of Toronto, with a population of 776,000. Sunday morning, Aug. 7th, it logged its third homicide of the year: 65 year old Gord Lewis, who’d led the OG Canadian punk outfit since the guitarist and songwriter attended Westdale Secondary School in 1975 with classmates Frank Kerr – who became iconic, mascara-smeared singer Frankie Venom – Steve Mahon (bass) and Nick Stipanitz (drums).
The original Teenage Head lineup in 1977: from left, Steve Mahon, Nick Stipanitz, Frankie "Venom" Kerr and Gord Lewis. (Pic: Arthur Usherson)
Feasting on a steady diet of New York Dolls, Stooges, and ‘50s rock ‘n’ roll records, with a healthy dosage of the Ramones thrown in once they happened along, Lewis ripped some tasty voltage from a Gibson Les Paul Special for the band's lifespan. Those thick Johnny Thunders-inspired riffs powered airtight originals such as “Picture My Face” and "Ain't Got No Sense," all of which he had a firm hand in writing. Teenage Head’s wired, defiant, one-song performance in Colin Brunton’s The Last Pogo, filmed the final night of Toronto punk venue The Horseshoe Tavern in 1978, is a classic punk cinema moment. The sight of a bug-eyed Lewis getting up in a cop’s face, angrily insisting on playing that one song, then swaggering to the front of the stage as he makes that Gibson roar is unforgettable. Their reprise of “Ain’t Got No Sense” in Class Of 1984 is a rare note of authenticity in an otherwise cheesy punksploitation flick.
And now, this sweet gent who loved rock ‘n’ roll, baseball, hockey, The Honeymooners, The Flintstones, The Andy Griffith Show and his band, is dead, apparently at the hand of his son Jonathan Lewis, 41.
"Gord had a big heart, He was gentle and very caring," Hamilton music promoter Lou Molinaro told the CBC on Monday, adding he was saddened and shocked by the news. Teenage Head, in a collective statement at Instagram, posted, “We are heartbroken and still trying to process the loss of our friend, bandmate, and brother Gord Lewis. Our hearts are with his family and all that knew and loved him.”
“A number of emails had been sent to a variety of media outlets with information related to a deceased person….”
Det. Sgt. Sara Beck addressing the media about Hamilton's third homicide of the year. (Pic: Barry Gray/The Spectator)
“On Sunday August 7, police received information, a number of emails had been sent to a variety of media outlets with information related to a deceased person,” Det. Sgt. Sara Beck of the Hamilton Police Service homicide unit informed reporters yesterday during a brief press conference.
“Based on the information, police attended a residence at 175 Catherine Street South and located a deceased male in his 60s in the apartment. The male had injuries consistent with foul play, and the case was deemed a homicide.
“At this time, a positive identification has not been made of the deceased due to the level of decomposition…an autopsy will be performed and additional steps taken to identify the deceased.”
Local daily The Hamilton Spectator’s coverage reported that multiple journalists there received emails from two accounts in Jonathan Lewis’ name stating that his father was dead, starting at 8pm Saturday and running into Sunday morning. CBC Hamilton also declared that several of its reporters received the same emails. A Spectator staffer called 911, requesting a wellness check. Police then discovered Gord’s body.
From The Spectator: “The messages included complaints about needing help for medical issues, but also include multiple references to his father being dead. One email sent Saturday night included: ‘Now I just want to get help for my sickness and give my Dad a proper burial. He didn’t deserve this.’ On Sunday, shortly before 11 a.m., another email included: ‘Funeral people need to get here quick. My Dad is starting to decay.’ It was the latter email that prompted The Spectator to call police out of concern for Gord’s safety.”
The Catherine Street apartment was Gord’s, though his son had been staying there for an unknown time span. Det. Sgt. Beck stated that police were unable to ascertain a clear time of death, though it’s believed it happened two or three days prior to the body’s discovery.
“Mental health is believed to be a factor in the murder, but Beck said it’s not clear to what extent,” added The Spectator. Det. Sgt. Beck said police are not seeking additional suspects, nor do they know if a weapon is involved at this time, as they continue their investigation.
“Lemme tell ya a story about a guy I know who sits in the basement writing rock ‘n’ roll….”
Teenage Head in typical hyperkinetic performance atop Jackson Square rooftop in Hamilton, May 1979. Frankie Venom catches rad air as Gord Lewis dishes out the voltage. (Pic: Stephen Mahon Archive)
Two years ago, director Douglas Arrowsmith released a comprehensive cinematic love letter, Picture My Face: The Story of Teenage Head. A warm, loving, career-spanning documentary, it traversed the band’s tale from stem to stern, from Gord Lewis almost single handedly willing them into existence at Westdale Secondary. It captures all the joy and heartache their story offers by the truckload, from hit records to a 1980 riot at their first big headlining gig to an attempt at breaking the American market scuttled by a car accident involving Lewis in the early ‘80s.
"They were one of, probably not just Hamilton's most important bands, but has to be up there in terms of the all-time greats for Ontario and Canada for sure," music publicist Eric Alper told the CBC on Monday. Indeed, when it comes to raw, headbanging pop with a strong rock ‘n’ roll snarl, few approach Teenage Head’s post-Dolls/post-Ramones grunt. Venom had a livewire charisma and a perfect adenoidal yawp that lit up a room in seconds. Lewis had the riffs - big, banging notes drenched in thick, juicy gain, and a lead style that proved he’d graduated with honors from the Johnny Thunders Academy of Bent Notes. And those songs! Few this side of Eddie Cochran could craft rockers this perfectly catchy.
95% of that immaculate music was the brainchild of Gord Lewis. As Molinaro put it, “He wrote the songs that were the soundtrack to my life.”
Über glam rock outtake from the shoot for Teenage Head’s first album cover. (l-r) Nick Stipanitz, Steve Mahon, Frankie Venom and Gord Lewis. (Teenage Head/Facebook)
Venom’s 2008 death from throat cancer derailed the band. But none felt the loss harder than Lewis. Even as Picture My Face celebrates their high times and glories, much of it is concerned with Lewis’ crippling depression in the wake of Venom’s passing, and the band rallying to bring their leader out of that blue funk.
“He’s crashing,” laments Mahon at one point. “We need to help him.”
“My bedmate was bottles and bottles of pills,” headshakes Lewis. “The pain!”
“Him and Frank had a real brotherhood,” muses Dave “Rave” Desroches, the early Teenage Headster who returned to deputize for Venom. “How do you know, until somebody goes?”
To witness the extent of Lewis’ debilitation on screen creates an understanding how Jonathan could possibly have harmed his father, leaving a series of incoherent pleas for help with several journalists as Gord decomposed. But the gruesomeness gets washed away as you bask in the sheer joy of Teenage Head’s greatness. Or recalling the documentary charting Lewis’ baby steps, from small local gigs a few years after Venom’s death to playing the halftime show at the 2019 Ticat-Argonaut Labor Day Classic. It would be the last time Teenage Head played live, a glorious crescendo for their career. And no one on that stage beamed brighter than Gord Lewis.
“Gord was a force and inspiration to many,” Teenage Head’s Instagram tribute concluded. “You were taken from us far too soon.” Indeed. R.I.P.
Thank you, as always, for reading this. I am grateful to each and every one of you for your unanimously enthusiastic support. I am humbled. If you enjoyed this, please subscribe, and maybe share this with your friends. Coming Friday: What I learned from a marathon Westworld binge.
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