The Ramones

Artist:  The Ramones

Albums I Listened To:  The Ramones (and bits of a few others)

 BACKSTORY…..

I’m going to begin this further journey into punk rock by starting with a jazz story.  Bear with me -- there’s a reason for this little trip. 

I was fortunate to be coming of age as a jazz fan in the ‘70s.  The genre was experiencing an exciting rebirth (helped by a thriving Canadian jazz scene).  And I was able to be guided deeper into jazz by a radio DJ named Ted O’Reilly. 

He was one of the announcers of a quirky “little” FM station called CJRT.  In its early history, the station was owned by Toronto Metropolitan University (then called Ryerson Institute of Technology) and was used for the education and training of its journalism students (I would become one of those students in 1977).  Later, that part was replaced by broader educational programming under the name, “Open College” that was shared by Ryerson’s and York University’s continuing studies departments. 

CJRT also began to include music into its programming, specifically classical, jazz and folk. 

It was a cool station.  No advertising, funded through donations and, I would imagine, some government grants.  And the announcers, while all radio professionals, seemed less interested being great radio hosts, in place of being very knowledgeable about the music they were playing.  They were all decidedly low key in their vocal delivery.  Not a classic “radio voice” among them – which added to the credibility and charm of the station and its programming. 

Ted O’Reilly had a two-hour show called The Jazz Scene, every weeknight from 10pm to midnight.  Another guy, Glen Woodcock, had his own show devoted to the Big Band era of jazz.  O’Reilly played everything else – the kind of music my Dad (who had introduced me to jazz by way of the Big Bands) would dismiss as “that modern jazz.”  He also played a good amount of jazz by the burgeoning Canadian jazz community – such as the big bands of Phil Nimmons (Nimmons ‘n’ Nine) and Rob McConnell (the Boss Brass).   

I (and many thousands of others) adored O’Reilly’s show.  He talked about the music as well as playing it.  And I remember him saying this one thing that has always stuck with me:  the best way to hear any kind of music is to hear it played live. 

Nightclub, concert hall, outdoor venue, dance hall, whatever.  O’Reilly believed seeing and hearing musicians play the music live and in-person was the way to experience that music, versus a recording fussed over in a studio. 

I don’t actually know why he felt that way.  He might have explained it back then but all I remember is hearing him say that.  To his credit, O’Reilly practiced what he preached.  He was also the MC at an amazing jazz series he organized in the theatre at the Ontario Science Centre.  I saw Dizzy Gillespie there and a host of other jazz bands in the 70s and early 80s.)

During this same time, I was working on a feature for the TMU arts magazine about Toronto’s busy repertory cinema scene.  Those of you of a certain age will remember the Roxy on The Danforth, the New Yorker on Yonge, the Cinema Lumiere on College and a host of other cinemas that showed movies from days gone by or movies from a certain genre.  The Cinema Lumiere, as I recall, only showed films that were in languages other than English. 

As a serious film buff, I was in these rep cinemas all the time.  Just before launching on that article, Franny and I had just seen The Wizard of Oz on a screen at the Roxy – as opposed to the TV screenings I had seen for years – and there was a packed house on a Sunday afternoon.  “There’s a story in this,” I remember thinking. 

I needed to interview a guy who was somehow involved in getting these old classic movies into these rep cinemas.  I forget his name now (Gary…something), but when I got in touch with him, he told me also managed rock bands and he was going to be at the Horseshoe Tavern (still there at College/Spadina) on a particular night, so I should meet him there before the band’s show and we could talk. 

I showed up at the Horseshoe (fun fact: 40 years later, I would play with a band on that stage for a benefit for our niece Julie Clune) and sat down with this fellow.  As we talked, the band started doing a sound check, playing some of their set. 

In the back of my mind I thought, “Oh Christ.  Punk rock.”

I had already decided I didn’t like this new thing called punk.  And I was happy to finish up my interview and get out of there. 

But the fact is, I should have stayed. 

And that’s because of what Ted O’Reilly said.  “The best way to listen to music is to hear it live.”

What does that have to do with my recent exploration of punk rock?

Read on. 

REACTIONS….

A few weeks ago, I called up The Ramones’ first album on Spotify.  I listened to the whole thing a number of times. 

A few thoughts came to mind:  they sure could play fast…and they sure could play.  Tight, four-on-the-floor rock.  Guitars slamming Chuck Berry riffs with great verve and precision, tight, driving drums.  And I quite enjoyed the goofy, simple lyrics to “I Just Wanna Sniff Some Glue,” “Mary Wants to be a Headbanger,” and “Blitzkrieg Pop.”

So, I liked it.  The music didn’t feel angry or even edgy.  Much to my surprise, The Ramones, who I had read were THE original, official punk band, were just good rockers. 

But I didn’t love it.  My feelings weren’t anywhere near the same as when I listened to The Clash (see my earlier post about “London Calling”).  Within a few minutes of hearing The Clash I was an immediate diehard fan, mad at myself for ignoring the band. 

With The Ramones, I had no negative reaction except that it didn’t excite me. 

But I was curious as why they are so loved by millions.  Serious music fans I know now speak of them with the same tone of awe then I use for Led Zeppelin, The Band and Elton John.  So, thanks to YouTube, I watched a few interviews with band members (nice fellows, actually) and then I stumbled onto a live performance from 1977 at The Rainbow theatre in London, UK. 

In that Ramones live show, even watching it on a grainy video on YouTube on my laptop, I could feel why these guys resonated as they did with so many millions of fans. 

They took absolutely no time between songs.  No “I need to tune my guitar” stuff.  Almost every song ends on a hard stop.   Then one of the guys screams into his mic, “ONETWOTHREEFOUR” and off they go into the next song.  They just kept playing, hardly taking a breath or a tempo change.  And playing hard…and extremely well. 

The camera would cut to the crowd every so often and it was plain to see that they were absolutely loving these guys and they burned through their set. 

They didn’t talk to the audience.  There were no talk-stories to add colour to the songs, a la Springsteen.  The leader and singer, Joey, never introduced the band.  At a certain point, the bassist and the guitarist took off their jackets.  Partially, this might have been for effect (ever notice how the crowd cheers when an artist does this?), but mostly it must have been because they were playing so hard, at a constant break-the-sound-barrier turbocharged tempo, that had to have been boiling hot. 

My final observation – they played for 26 minutes.  But that was 26 minutes of crazy energy.  Like putting a food blender on high and letting it run for 26 minutes.  I’ve never seen anything like it.  Even Springsteen – famous for his 3.5 hour shows – takes a little break every so often to go off stage and take a leak or change his shirt or slows down the tempo for a soft song or lets one of the other band members take the lead. 

And one more positive point:  as much as their songs all follow the same structural model and pretty much sound exactly the same, these four dudes, even playing at this rocket-speed, NEVER missed a beat. 

They were professionals.  They knew exactly what they were doing.  That impresses me.  I had this pre-ordained feeling The Ramones were hackers. 

No.  They weren’t.  They were professional musicians and performers who I believe now put as much thought and planning into their work as the Toronto Symphony Orchestra does when it performs.  Or when Rush would play one of its incredibly complex sets. 

And the real key to their talent?  They made it look easy.  And they made it look like they felt what they were playing. 

And I could feel it, even at my computer.  “A-ha,” I thought.  And I immediately thought of Ted O’Reilly’s maxim:  The best way to listen to music is to see it played live.

Then I thought, “If I were there, I would have been dancing my ass off.”

I mentioned this whole experience to a friend.  He’s about six years older than me.  “Yeah, you had to see them live.  That’s when they were best.”

So…back to that night at the Horseshoe in 1978.  Yeah, I should have stayed and seen whatever punk band that was do their thing live five feet away from me.  I’m sure I would have loved it.  Because, at least with The Ramones, the electricity in the air at their live shows was how you can really a feel for the talent of this remarkable band. 

SURPRISE FACTOR: 7+…on that live performance I saw. The recorded work was fine. But very limited in terms of range.

WILL I LISTEN TO MORE? No. Time to move…in fact, I’ve had enough of the punk experience for now. Next up: moving into “prog rock” and Jethro Tull.