Gothic Punk

(SUPERIOR VIADUCT/RHINO ENTERTAINMENT/SLASH RECORDS/RUBY RECORDS; reissue, 2014; original release, 1981)

When Chris D (Desjardins) started Ruby Records (ostensibly to release his own Flesh Eaters music, though the label eventually released influential albums by the Dream Syndicate, Lydia Lunch and the Misfits), the second release was FIRE OF LOVE by the Gun Club. The album has become the standard-bearer of the LA punk scene’s rockabilly revivalists (even outstripping the mighty X as the best example of the genre). It is one of those albums that has very rarely (if ever) gone out of print; now the amazing Superior Viaduct label has reissued the original eleven-track record (re-mastered) on vinyl and CD. If you’ve missed out on FIRE OF LOVE over the past 33 years (or, if like me, you were bone-headed enough to dismiss it out of hand when it was originally released), you’ve been given a reprieve from the divine beings (or, maybe, demonic beings would be more apt) of rock and roll. So… why should you care now? As wildly erratic as Jeffrey Lee Pierce was during his troubled life, the song cycle (playing out like a concept album or a bizarre operetta) on this first Gun Club album stand as one of the greatest (and most cohesive) collections of Los Angeles roots punk… ever.

The Gun Club, 1981 (Terry Graham, Jeffrey Lee Pierce, Ward Dotson, Rob Ritter (photo credit: ED COLVER)

Album opener, “Sex Beat,” is everything that rock and roll should be: Liberal doses of sex and drugs with just the right amount of Carl Perkins style hillbilly music, Johnnie Johnson (the REAL king of rock ‘n’ roll) rhythm and blues, Jonathan Richman-like vocal peculiarities and Robert Johnson haunted hoodoo honk. The band’s cover of Son House’s “Preaching the Blues” (itself a variation on Johnson’s “Preachin’ Blues”) adds a sense of urgency via Pierce’s manic howls and Ward Dotson’s slide guitar work. If there could ever be anything like a balls-out ballad, “Promise Me” is it. It features a heavy bottom end, provided by the Bags’ Terry Graham and Rob Ritter and an eerie, haunting vibe, courtesy – once more – of Ward’s slide. “She’s Like Heroin To Me” comes off like a ragged marriage of early Pretty Things nastiness and Elvis Presley’s nascent rhythm and blues sides. Pierce’s voice is thin, almost delicate, on the track adding a vulnerability that’s far too real for comfortable listening. Percolating and throbbing, “For the Love of Ivy” is Jeffrey Lee’s take on the Johnny Cash murder song (with a weird BONANZA theme song rhythm). He yelps and howls through such telling lyrics as, “I’m gonna buy me a graveyard of my own/And shoot everyone who ever done me wrong/I’m gonna buy me a gun just as long as my arm/And shoot everyone who ever done me harm.” The tattered vocals and dirty, repetitive guitar riff make “Fire Spirit” a highlight, though there are many who would tag it as either a weak demo or a throwaway track added to pad the album. Listen again and dig a bit deeper… you’ll see why it’s a true high mark on a decidedly brilliant record.

The Gun Club's Jeffrey Lee Pierce, 1983 (photo credit: DAVID ARANOFF) — The Gun Club’s Jeffrey Lee Pierce, 1983 (photo credit: DAVID ARANOFF)

Side two opens with “Ghost On the Highway,” crashing the Johnny Cash versions of Stan jones’ “(Ghost) Riders In the Sky” and Ervin T Rouse’s “Orange Blossom Special” into a frantic rockabilly stomp. “Jack On Fire” seems to be the most fully-realized song on the album, with its memorable, stinging guitar lead from Dotson, bouncy rhythm and Pierce’s vocals, for once, not seeming to be completely at odds with the music. It isn’t that the vocals are unlistenable (or even bad, at all), it’s just that Jeffrey Lee’s voice sometimes has a disconnected feeling, which makes for a more adventurous listen. Terry Graham’s martial, chugging drumming highlights “Black Train,” another murder song about a man trying to escape the law and his past. The black train has long been associated with death and Pierce’s howls play into that scenario; the question is, however, is the train taking him to Hell for his crime or is he trapped with the spirit of his victim? As the tune melds into “Cool Drink of Water,” we may have our answer. Sounding like a hillbilly dirge, with a plaintive slide guitar snaking over the top, the odd yodeling style of Jeffrey’s virtually incoherent vocals deliver such ominous lines as, “I ask for water and she gave me gasoline” and “I asked the conductor, could I ride the blinds?/Son, buy your ticket, for that train ain’t none of mine.” The thing is a masterpiece of creepiness. “Goodbye Johnny” sounds like Jonathan Richman fronting the Blasters. Lyrically, it is the final chapter in a tale of infidelity, violence, murder, revenge and ultimate retribution, tying together all of the thematic threads woven throughout the previous ten tracks.

The Gun Club's Jeffrey Lee Pierce (photo credit: ANN SUMMA PHOTOGRAPHY) — The Gun Club’s Jeffrey Lee Pierce (photo credit: ANN SUMMA PHOTOGRAPHY)

The cohesiveness mentioned above is made more remarkable by the fact that two different producers worked on the album: Chris D himself (producing the first two and the final track on side one, as well as the first two tracks of side two) and Tito Larriva (the remaining six songs). The five tracks produced by Desjardins generally have a fuller sound, but the entire album bristles with an unbridled passion and a creepy horror vibe that’s just too impressive to pass up… again!

(SUPERIOR VIADUCT/RHINO ENTERTAINMENT/SLASH RECORDS/RUBY RECORDS; reissue, 2014; original release, 1981)

In the late 1970s and early ’80s, Los Angeles (and, in truth, most of California, from San Francisco and south, to San Diego) was a particularly fertile environment for musicians… Punk was just coming into its own in the City of the Angels, permutating into its various sub-genres: Rockabilly (as exemplified by X and the Blasters), Hardcore (bands like Black Flag and Dead Kennedys led that charge), Goth or Horror Punk (Christian Death and True Sounds of Liberty – TSOL – spearheaded that style, adding even darker elements to a Misfits-style sound). There were others, of course… and then there was Flesh Eaters, the musical vision of acerbic poet Chris D (Desjardins), an amalgam of everything that was happening in the punk scene, circa 1981. Chris’ dark outlook and seemingly anti-social personality made being a Flesh Eater an adventurous (torturous?) affair and players came and went on a fairly regular basis.

Flesh Eaters (Dave Alvin, John Doe, Chris D, Steve Berlin, DJ Bonebrake, Bill Bateman) (photo credit: SCOTT LINDGREN)

By the time Chris D had written what would soon become his greatest musical achievement, his Flesh Eaters were a veritable super-group of LA punk musicians: guitarist Dave Alvin and his Blasters cohorts, drummer Bill Bateman and sax-man Steve Berlin (who would go on to greater fame as a member of Los Lobos); John Doe and DJ Bonebrake, from X, played bass and various percussion instruments, respectively. These men were (and are) all well-respected musicians in their own rights, but when they convened to record A MINUTE TO PRAY, A SECOND TO DIE, the stars aligned to produce a 37 minute blast of punk perfection. The original album was released on Desjardins’ own Ruby Records before it was enfolded into the Slash Records stable. This latest re-release comes from the esoteric Superior Viaduct imprint (which is also reissuing the second Ruby Records release, the Gun Club’s debut album, FIRE OF LOVE) and is available in glorious vinyl and a limited CD release. So, as I’ve waxed (somewhat) poetic about the record, I’m sure that, like Bugs Bunny, you’re wondering, “What’s all the hub-bub… bub?”

Flesh Eaters live (John Doe, Bill Bateman, Dave Alvin, Chris D, Steve Berlin) (photo credit: DAVID ARNOFF)

Side one starts strong with “Digging My Grave” as Chris’ controlled rage vocals add to an already disjointed, ominous feel. The primary instrumental impetus comes from Berlin’s sax and Bonebrake’s marimba… yeah, you heard right: Marimba, an instrument very rarely heard in rock music at all, forget about the Gothic punk stew that A MINUTE TO PRAY… offers up. There are a couple of beautifully discordant sax squonk solos from Berlin that add just the right vibe. “Pray ’til You Sweat” is highlighted by a very cool guitar signature from Dave Alvin and a typically dismal lyric from Chris D: “You gotta stop riding the brakes/You gotta stop robbing the cradle/Cock the gun, pull the trigger/What you got is one dead singer.” As the name implies, “River of Fever” is a fever dream of horror and depravity; and, aren’t those the best kind? Quite possibly the truest punk song on the album, the tune is an exercise in speed and precision, with a chorus that laments (or glories in… you’re never quite sure with Desjardins), “My hands are folded across my chest/My hands are folded and I’m at rest.” “Satan’s Stomp” was recorded live-in-studio, with a slightly cavernous sound, which works well on this particular track. Bateman and Doe (with an assist from DJ Bonebrake, no doubt) propel the tune forward with minimalist approaches on guitar and sax for accompaniament. The chorus is punk-fast with the majority of the nearly six minute song feeling more like a New Orleans jazz funeral until everything collapses into a deconstructive crescendo of noise before the drum and bass coda return for the final 40 seconds. Halfway through, and… what an amazing slab of pure, raw, rock and roll savagery!

Flesh Eaters (Chris D, DJ Bonebrake, Dave Alvin, John Doe, Steve Berlin, Bill Bateman) (photo credit: SCOTT LINDGREN)

What is, arguably, the most melodic tune on the album opens side two. “See You In the Boneyard” is a total ebb and flow of power and aggression, a Judas betrayal of remorse and condemnation, with lines like: “You see something different/When it’s time to carry a cross.” “So Long” is kinda like something from Rank and File or Doe’s and Bonebrake’s other band, X. Chris D’s vocals continue to be a raw nerve croak, sounding creepy and rather threatening, especially here, where the theme seems to be – at the very least – murder or – more likely – murder/suicide. Or gardening… the song could be about gardening. A John Doe/X leftover from 1977, “Cyrano de Berger’s Back” is a retelling of the love triangle of Christian, Roxane and Cyrano’s proboscis. Where the original X demo (which finally saw the light of day on Rhino’s LOS ANGELES reissue in 2001) was bright and somehow happy, this version is as dark and bleak (and wonderful) as the rest of the record. The lyrical content (and, maybe the vocals a bit, as well) of the seven minute long (!) album closer, “Divine Horseman,” puts me in mind of another street poet, Jim Carroll; however, where Carroll’s poems/songs were dark around the edges, Desjardins’ seem to be black from the core out. The song starts with a rather noirish sax passage that leads straight into a strident, punk-cum-metal Alvin guitar riff. Pounding drums from Bill Bateman and that insistent guitar never falter throughout as the bass and sax add interesting textures along with the marimba and maracas. The lyrics are very horror-themed but, at least in my mind, closer to ROSEMARY’S BABY, “Let’s have a baby with the Prince of Lies” than what the final lines reveal: “I still love you/I know what you are/Loup Garou.” Like Michael Landon always said, “You gotta love a good werewolf in love story.” And, you gotta love an album as ground-breaking as A MINUTE TO PRAY, A SECOND TO DIE. Records like this don’t come around every day or, for that matter, come back around every day so – as I’m wont to say: “Go ye forth and consume!” Both configurations are available at the usual places, my favorite of which is a staggering beast commonly referred to as a “record store.” You can also remain disconnected from all human interaction and order it directly from www.superiorviaduct.com.

THE GUN CLUB: FIRE OF LOVE

FLESH EATERS: A MINUTE TO PRAY, A SECOND TO DIE

WHAT’S INSIDE