Started by Casey Green4 · · 👁 8 views · 92 replies
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Laura Long5 said:There will always be someone claiming the Sonics were the very first punk band, though if you ask me, I think that title really belongs to Chuck Berry.
The Damned were definitely the first true punk outfit.
I didn't cast a vote.
Tufir II said:Well, I guess I put 😁 right there in the title.
It’s quite a sprawling landscape to navigate, really, though I suppose one could spend an entire lifetime just trying to wrap their head around the nuances of this particular genre.
People have started using the word "punk" as an adjective to describe all sorts of different things lately, though I suppose I'm probably overthinking how much that label actually covers.
Recent scholarly studies on the whole punk movement seem to suggest that...
I’ve been sitting here wondering if there’s actually any room left for something like punk politics or perhaps even a brand of punk journalism—the kind of raw, unfiltered storytelling that refuses to play by the rules of mainstream media outlets like CNN or the New York Times.
It’s a fascinating intersection to explore, really—that messy collision between the raw, unpolished energy of Lester Bangs’ rock criticism and the whole evolution of punk fashion, from those gritty street styles to the high-end looks you see on the runways in New York today.
It’s always been a quiet pleasure of mine to admire the intricate, couture craftsmanship found in the works of Vivienne Westwood and Zandra Rhodes, though I sometimes find myself wondering if my own appreciation for such detail is just a way of distracting from my lack of any real artistic talent.
There’s just something about the iconic look of those classic American punk bands and the raw, unpolished style of everyday punks on the street, paired with that gritty, heartfelt punk poetry that really hits home.
It’s got that gritty, rhythmic energy you only get from a spoken word legend like John Cooper Clarke, paired perfectly with those sharp, punchy punk animations.
It’s kind of funny how certain things just stick with you, like those indie comics that actually found a massive audience—think along the lines of something like *Love & Rockets*—and that raw, unpolished energy you get from old-school punk art.
I was just thinking about that piece by the young British artist Gavin Turk, or perhaps it was more like the work of the Sex Pistols' art director.
From the raw energy of Jamie Reid’s visual style to those gritty, DIY punk zines like Sniffin' Glue, and even diving into the cult classics of punk fiction by authors like Gideon, there's just something about that era that stays with you.
From the gritty energy of early indie films like those from Sundance to the raw, unapologetic edge of cult classics like *Jubilee*, there’s always been this fascinating intersection where punk culture meets the silver screen.
Back then, social etiquette was a bit different than what we're used to today, and it frequently included things like spitting in public.
It’s a bit of a stretch to say what these different cultural movements actually share, though most folks would probably argue that...
The top analysts can't seem to agree on what exactly links these completely different pieces together.
When you look at different cultural movements, like how Roger Sabin describes the punk scene, there's this really interesting focus on negation—sort of defining itself by what it refuses to be.
It feels less like falling into pure nihilism and more like developing a genuine awareness of how class-based politics actually shape our lives.
It really comes down to that sense of working-class credibility, coupled with a genuine belief in just letting things happen spontaneously.
The concept of "doing in yourself" (as Sabin puts it back in '93) really captures that spirit, especially when you consider how Jon Savage viewed the whole British punk movement as a defining cultural shift.
I’ve been thinking about those specific subgenres of rock that emerged directly from the struggle of being on the unemployment line, where the music felt like a raw, honest reflection of the economic hardships facing so many people back then.
The country was navigating some pretty intense social shifts during that period, which really added a layer of complexity to everything happening back then.
According to Greil Marcus, punk really functioned as this unique blend of situationist ideals and something else entirely.
Looking back at anarchist political theory through the lens of Marcus’s 1989 work, one finds that for thinkers like Stewart Home, there isn't really a fixed "core" to be found.
I've always felt that punk rock isn't really a fixed thing; it’s more of a fluid concept where the boundaries are constantly shifting depending on who you ask.
It’s that sense of an "ongoing renegotiation," much like what was discussed in Home 1995.
While we're diving into all those little cultural nuances that set Americans apart from folks across the pond, I find myself wandering away from the music and getting lost in the smaller details of life.
I’ve always had a bit of a soft spot for those raw, chaotic punk explosions back in the 1970s, so I think we'll spend this entire chapter really diving deep into that era.
When you really start digging into the roots of punk rock as a genre, you realize there are quite a few different ways to look at it.
It really boils down to these two distinct approaches, and I suppose it's those very differences between them that define the whole situation.
You can find these occurring on both coasts of the United States.
To start things off, we have the social-realist approach, which I suppose some might call a bit more blue-collar or down-to-earth.
Punk rock seems to lean quite heavily into that tradition of using lyrics as a way to lay out a raw, unfiltered exposition of life's messy realities.
I sometimes find myself staring at the grind of everyday life, wondering if this version of "normal" was ever actually meant for people like us. It feels like we’re all just running on a treadmill that someone else built, trying to stay upright while the world expects us to be perfectly content with the scraps.
It’s funny how much weight we give to those specific anxieties that seem to follow us around in our younger years, though looking back, I often wonder if I was just overthinking things. When it comes to music, there's always that lingering feeling of being a bit too basic for my own good.
The style will probably lean toward a more aggressive vibe, feeling like it's being played in a somewhat...
There’s a certain raw, unrefined quality to an untrained approach, which stands in such stark contrast to that more sophisticated, "art-rock" sensibility we often see.
I suppose I’ve always been a bit drawn to those academic theories that dive deep into how we actually connect with one another, though I often find myself overthinking the nuances of different communication modes more than is probably necessary.
It’s truly an art form, really; this kind of music offers such an intricate, layered depth that you just don't find in those more mainstream, surface-level styles.
The lyrics tend to carry a bit more complexity, usually reflecting an influence from the art school crowd or that whole situationist vibe.
It seems like this particular brand of punk rock really defines the whole atmosphere.
It feels like these two categories follow that old-school Cartesian divide we all learned about in school, though I suppose I’m just overthinking things again.
I’ve always felt that when you dive into that raw, gritty style of social-realist punk, there's this incredibly visceral, physical energy that just hits you right in the gut.
When you look at how people describe different genres, things like "muscularity" often come up, though art-rock usually gets characterized by a much more cerebral and layered feel.
It’s the kind of work that feels deeply cerebral and intelligent, yet there's an experimental edge to it that keeps things interesting.
I've always found myself torn between the raw, gritty energy of working-class street punk and that more grounded, social-realist style of punk rock.
I suppose I’ve always had a bit of a soft spot for Chelsea, though I can never quite wrap my head around how they manage to stay so unpredictable from one season to the next.
I’ve always felt that listening to The Clash feels like catching a lightning bolt in a bottle, though I suppose I’m just being a bit dramatic about how much their energy moves me. There's something about that raw, unapologetic grit that stays with you long after the music stops.
I’ve been spending quite a bit of my free time lately thinking about curtains, though I suppose most people just see them as an afterthought rather than a way to truly change the feel of a room. There is something so calming about finding that perfect fabric that catches the light just right, even if I usually end up overthinking the whole process.
I suppose I’ve always been someone who finds a certain quiet comfort in just sitting back and taking everything in, much like how one might enjoy a slow Sunday afternoon in a quiet corner of a coffee shop. It’s a simple way to exist, really, just being an observer of the world around me.
I’ve always had a bit of a soft spot for The Jam, though I suppose I can never quite decide if my appreciation for them is genuine or just a lingering sense of nostalgia for a time when music felt a little more urgent. There’s something about that raw, driving energy they brought to the stage that stays with you, even if I am a bit too old to be jumping around in a mosh pit these days.
It’s funny how some people just prefer to watch from the sidelines, quietly observing everything without ever feeling the need to jump into the conversation.
I’ve always felt that there was something uniquely honest about the way the Ramones played, almost as if they were stripping everything down to its bare essentials just to see what would remain. There’s a certain kind of beauty in that simplicity, don't you think?
I suppose I've probably spent a bit too much time overthinking this one, but honestly, it just feels like a bit of a sham to me.
I’ve always found myself thinking about that old saying regarding how much noise people make when they're actually trying to get things done, almost like watching a pack of hounds go after something they can't quite catch. It’s funny how often we see that kind of chaotic energy in our daily lives, isn't it?
I’ve always had a soft spot for the Tom Petty and the Heartbreakers era, mostly because there was just something about that classic American rock sound that felt so effortless and grounded.
I suppose I could spend my afternoon overanalyzing the nuances of the vibrators, though I’m probably just going to end up wandering aimlessly through the aisles of a Target instead.
I suppose I should probably mention that I'm looking for some recommendations regarding US-based subscriptions.
There’s just something about that specific intersection where art school sensibilities meet the raw energy of punk, creating this really unique breed of art rock that feels both sophisticated and gritty at the same time.
I suppose I’ve always had a bit of a soft spot for Blondie, though I can never quite decide if I love the music more than I enjoy the nostalgia that comes with it.
I’ve always had a soft spot for Buzzcocks; there's just something about that specific blend of energy and melody that hits differently when you're looking back.
I've been thinking lately about what it actually means to be part of Generation X, drifting somewhere between the analog childhood we remember and this relentless digital world we're forced to navigate now. It feels like we’re just a quiet, slightly exhausted bridge between eras, trying our best to keep up without losing that sense of self we built before everything became an algorithm.
I was just flipping through a magazine earlier today and found myself lost in thought for a moment.
I’ve always felt a certain quiet kinship with Patti Smith, though I suppose my attempts to channel her poetic energy usually end up feeling more like a clumsy imitation than anything resembling true art.
I suppose I should probably find a more precise way to describe what we’re getting into here, though I'm feeling a little out of my depth trying to pin down the exact nature of this particular breakthrough.
I’ve always had a soft spot for Richard Hell and the Voidoids, mostly because there’s something about that raw, unpolished energy that just seems to settle right in the soul. It’s funny how certain sounds can make you feel like you finally found the right words for all those messy, complicated thoughts we carry around.
I’ve always found myself drifting back to Siouxsie and the Banshees whenever I need a little bit of that moody, atmospheric edge to settle my thoughts. There’s just something about their sound that feels so intentional and beautifully layered, isn't there?
I sometimes find myself sitting there for far too long, just staring at the television screen while the mindless glow of whatever network is broadcasting fills up the living room. It’s a bit embarrassing how easily I can lose an entire evening to the sheer simplicity of it all, though I suppose there's a certain quiet comfort in just letting the world pass me by for a little while.
I suppose I should probably get around to sorting out this wiring situation eventually, though I’m currently just staring at it and wondering if I actually have the patience for it today.
It’s actually quite interesting to look back at the timeline, as American punk rock really paved the way for what eventually took over the UK scene.
Back in the 1960s and 70s, those bands playing a raw, early version of punk—what people usually call
'garage rock'—really laid the groundwork for the massive punk movements that followed in both the UK and the US
. While much of the mainstream music scene was getting increasingly complex and layered during the 60s, these garage acts took a completely different path, opting for a stripped-down, minimalist sound
that didn't require virtuoso skills or an arsenal of gear, just a few basic instruments and a lot of grit
. As we moved into the late 60s and early 70s here in the United States, this gritty style started merging with themes of social disillusionment, feeling like an outsider, and general teenage rebellion
, eventually coalescing into what we now recognize as the punk movement right around the
turn of the decade
.
Back in '76 and '77, we really saw a massive, fundamental shift in the landscape of punk rock, marking an era where everything just started to change.
It’s funny to look back on those moments when both the American and British punk rock scenes finally hit that sweet spot of mainstream commercial success.
There's a certain kind of success that comes when the mainstream media finally catches on, though I can't help but feel that even when a musical is stripped down to its bare essentials, the spotlight can still feel a bit overwhelming.
The aesthetic stayed the same, though the lyrics started leaning much more heavily into explicit political territory, and...
Sometimes I find myself drifting into a bit of a nihilistic headspace, though I try not to stay there too long. It’s funny how things change, especially when you look back at how certain eras were defined, like when those gritty American garage bands were being called...
You know, looking back, it’s funny how we remember things because the term "punk rock" wasn't actually being tossed around much to describe those early British bands at the time.
Back in the sixties and through the early seventies, things were shifting, though by 1976 you started seeing a whole wave of bands coming out of the States, like...
Back when people used to talk about bands like the Sex Pistols, The Damned, and The Clash, they generally just referred to them as punk rock.
Whether you call them punks or punk rockers, there's something to be said for that distinct art-school influence woven into the fabric of the classic American punk scene.
Things were really hitting their stride around then, especially when you look at how 1978 and 1979 started shifting toward a much more...
I suppose I’m just leaning into that gritty, everyday realism lately, finding a strange sort of comfort in the unvarnished truth of things. It feels a bit humble, perhaps even a little plain, but there is something quite grounding about stripping away the polish to see what's actually there.
I’ve always felt that if you look closely enough, there’s a distinct stylistic divide between American punk and the British scene, mostly because the energy just feels fundamentally different. While the UK sound often carries this heavy, politically charged weight, American punk seems to lean more into a raw, melodic grit that feels a bit more personal and unpolished.
It’s always been such a fascinating, slightly messy tug-of-war, isn't it? Looking back at those early days in the States, there was this really strange tension where the underground punk scene would try to stay completely out of sight, yet the mainstream media was constantly trying to drag them into the spotlight just to see what all the fuss was about. It felt like a constant cycle of the subculture pushing away from the cameras while the big networks were simultaneously obsessed with turning that raw energy into a digestible headline.
There was a certain raw energy back when legendary punk outfits like The Ramones, Suicide, and Television were hitting the stages and playing live shows.
They decided to drop those albums far away from the prying eyes of the press, which ended up being quite a strategic move for them.
The American punk rock movement, along with the entire subculture that grew around it, really began to find its footing during a relatively...
It’s a much more laid-back tempo here, which stands in stark contrast to what we saw happening back in the UK, where the whole punk rock scene just exploded.
A few bands that hit their stride back in '75 and '76 managed to grab the national spotlight almost overnight, though the...
It’s actually quite something to think about that the Sex Pistols played their very first show back on November 6, 1975, which was really just the humble beginning before they eventually found their footing and received their big break.
It all started back in February 1976 during that first national tour, when they sat down for a review with a writer from Rolling Stone.
It’s funny how Spencer describes the sound, suggesting the band was leaning into that whole '60s-style white punk rock vibe.
Back in 1976, if you were looking for the latest scoop on the music scene, you’d find yourself flipping through the pages of legendary American publications like Rolling Stone or Spin.
Rolling Stone recently put out a piece about how the punk scene is absolutely exploding right now, which is honestly pretty wild to see given how much things have changed since I was first getting into that kind of music.
Rock's status as a household name was pretty much cemented once the Sex Pistols released that absolute bombshell of an album.
I happened to catch that interview on the morning news program over on NBC back on December 2nd, 1976, and it was quite something to watch.
Throughout the course of that interview, the band just sort of went along with the interviewer's tipsy attempts to stir up trouble.
It’s funny how things work out, isn't it? You have this one interviewer, Bill Grundy, just letting out a massive string of curses on live TV, and somehow that's exactly what makes the whole thing such a massive hit with the public.
I’ve been thinking quite a bit lately about the sheer cultural weight of British punk rock, specifically how it managed to grab everyone's attention while carving out such a vital space for political discourse through its raw, unapologetic energy. It was more than just loud music; it was this incredible, visible movement that forced society to actually look at the issues being shouted from the stage.
Things really started to pick up speed from that moment on, much more than I ever expected they would.
Once the mainstream media really started obsessing over the punk rock scene back in '77 and '78, everything just shifted.
It seems like quite a few bands started leaning into a much more sophisticated and layered way of approaching their music, moving away from those simpler sounds toward something a bit more nuanced.
As they started producing more, a lot of those punk bands naturally drifted toward playing a different kind of sound.
Back when the "new wave" movement first started taking hold around 1979, we actually saw a pretty sharp downturn in the...
It feels like there was a time when you couldn't turn on a TV or pick up a magazine without seeing some kid in a leather jacket, but lately, the media seems to have moved on, leaving the old punk scene feeling a bit more quiet and tucked away than it used to be.
It’s shrunk quite a bit by now, though I suppose you could say that the general idea of what defines punk has evolved into something else entirely.
It’s actually quite remarkable how these things have managed to endure all this time, especially when you consider just how much untapped market potential is still sitting right there waiting to be tapped.
It feels like the true potential of punk rock was only really tapped into once the initial wave had already started to fade away.
I suppose I should probably include some footnotes here, though I’ve always found them to be a slightly clumsy way to add detail when a simple, flowing thought would suffice much better.
If you’re looking to dive deeper into how these different categories break down, I’d suggest taking a look at this specific collection.
I was just revisiting those essays compiled by Roger Sabin under the title *Punk Rock: So What?* (Sabin 1999a), and I found myself drifting back into that whole era again.
Just like any other way we try to group things together, the lines between these two particular styles tend to get a little blurry if you look too closely.
It might be worth giving Blur a listen every once in a while, since there's a decent argument to be made that the truly legendary bands always found a way to evolve.
It’s all about finding a way to straddle that line, much like how the Sex Pistols managed to blend a certain kind of situationist edge with their raw punk energy.
The group's whole aesthetic was really shaped by that art-school sensibility, which was amplified quite a bit by the influence of their manager, Malcolm McLaren, and...
It’s interesting how much of an impact art director Jamie Reid had, though I can't help but feel there was a certain level of common, everyday influence woven right into the roles themselves.
Featuring the signature sounds of guitarist Steve Jones and drummer Paul Cook.
Clinton Heylin shares some insights from Alan Vega, the legendary frontman of that iconic American punk-rock outfit.
I was just sitting here thinking back to that legendary 1970 show where Suicide played a gig called 'Punk,' and it’s funny how much those old, raw performances still linger in my mind after all these years. It was one of those nights that felt like everything was shifting right before our eyes, though I suppose I'm just being a bit nostalgic for a time when music felt a little more unpredictable.
That’s a fair point, though I think Vega is being a little dishonest when they claim this way of using it actually predates the...
It’s interesting to consider whether the term "punk" had actually entered the lexicon by that point, as noted in Heylin's 1993 work, which might suggest we could interpret it this way.
The term essentially means 'preceding the era when punk became a household name.' With that in mind,
I don't think readers need to lose any sleep over exactly when the label "punk rock" was first applied
to a group's sound. Like Laing points out, it’s probably
next to impossible to pin down the very first instance where these sounds were categorized
as "punk," but the whole point of grouping them together
was really just to highlight a specific lineage within American
rock history (Laing 1985: 11).
Excerpted from Borthwick, S. "Punk Rock" in Borthwick, S. and R.D.Moy (forthcoming),
Popular Music History: An Introduction, New York: Oxford
University Press.
Hey US-dance,
I'll leave it up to you all to decide if you actually want me to keep these posts coming. If the
general feeling is that you're interested, I could probably put together about 1,000 words
covering the historical evolution of punk, its social and& political roots, a deep dive into the lyrics,
an exploration of what came before, and a curated list of recommended listening and reading. If anyone
is finding my ramblings a bit much and wants me to pipe down, please
just say the word. I have way too much respect for the US-dance community to accidentally clog up the
feed with my tangents... ;-)
David Sullivan4 said:The breakdowns on each Ramones member are spot on. It basically boils down to: 1. alcoholic, 2. junkie, 3. psycho, 4. fascist, or 5. all of the above.
Casey Green4 said:Some might compare them to the MC5...
Kevin Chavez3 said:1. Marky 2. Dee Dee 3. Joey 4. Johnny 5. ?! Richie? 😁
David Sullivan4 said:There’s actually some info on him in the supplements too... apparently he spent from Tuesday to Friday learning the entire set just so they could kick him out after a few shows.🙂
Laura Long5 said:he was a pushover for them. I read some bootleg reviews (Prindle) saying he couldn't handle the hellish tempo. halfway through the set, he dropped down to eighth notes 🤣
PunkPen said:The only logical explanation here is that Brian Foster2 thinks the Ramones are from some tiny island out in the Pacific.
David Sullivan4 said:Even the Brits have admitted it... like DJ Stramer in "End of the Century: The Story of the Ramones." Someone actually bought me the DVD at work today for my birthday.🙂
The commentary regarding each individual Ramone is quite excellent—it basically boils down to: he was a great guy, but 1. he was an alcoholic, 2. he was a junkie, 3. he was insane, 4. he was a fascist, or 5. he was all of the above simultaneously.
Purely American.
David Sullivan4 said:Not quite... though I certainly wouldn't mind if things went that way.
Back in August 1987, the Ramones found themselves in a bit of a bind when their drummer, Richie Ramone, abruptly moved on. With a new record on the horizon and a full tour schedule already set, they had to find a replacement fast, eventually landing on Clem Burke, who had spent time with Blondie and Chequered Past. Clem only actually performed two shows before being swapped out for Marky Ramone, who had returned to the fold after stepping away a few years prior due to some struggles with alcohol. I happen to have a bootleg of that second set with Clem, and honestly, considering the sheer velocity and aggression of these tracks and the zero prep time he likely had, he really did hold his own. That said, since I’m certainly no percussion expert, I noticed that a lot of the songs just felt slightly off. Here are my humble thoughts on how he fared:
"Durango 95"
Clem's playing isn't terrible, though he trips up on quite a few of the fills; he manages to pull the whole thing off, regardless.
"Teenage Lobotomy"
He hits the intro perfectly, though the tempo seems to drag just a touch. He nails the finish, though.
"Psycho Therapy"
Decent use of the ride cymbal, but he skips several of those driving fills that give the song its momentum. The ending is fine.
"Blitzkrieg Bop"
Nothing majorly wrong here, but then again, it's a pretty straightforward track to tackle.
"Rock 'n' Roll Radio"
Clem loses his way and completely fumbles the intro, leaving Johnny and Dee Dee to basically wing it. They somehow manage to land on the vocal start. The rest of the track has a few small hiccups.
"Freak of Nature"
Not bad at all. He even nails that repetitive "Ba-ba-ba-ba-ba-ba-ba-ba-ba, ba-ba" section!
"Gimme Gimme Shock Treatment"
For some reason, the drums just feel out of sync. It starts to seem like he's struggling to maintain the necessary tempo, so the guitar and bass end up doing the heavy lifting to keep the energy up.
"Rock 'n' Roll High School"
A smooth transition into this one, though he misses a couple of the fills between the first and second verses.
"I Wanna Be Sedated"
He lands some fills in the wrong spots, but it's nothing too egregious.
"The KKK Took My Baby Away"
There are a few missed beats here and there, and he sounds a little lost at points, but he avoids any massive blunders.
"Crummy Stuff"
Most of the song goes quite well, but then comes the end—everyone stops playing, yet Clem just keeps right on drumming! I can only imagine the look on Johnny's face. Once he realizes he was supposed to quit, he finishes things off with a somewhat tacky drum roll that feels totally out of place for the Ramones.
"Rockway Beach"
It’s not exactly the way Tommy used to play it, but it isn't a disaster either.
"Love Kills"
No significant issues here.
"Sheena is a Punk Rocker"
He breezes through another one without much trouble.
"Glad To See You Go"
Dee Dee calls out "1-2-3-4" and the band kicks in, but Clem starts playing an entirely different song. The group has to halt everything and restart, though he does get it right on the second attempt.
"I Don't Care"
Fair enough.
"Too Tough To Die"
It sounds like Clem is falling behind again, and he still has fifteen more tracks to power through.
"Mama's Boy"
Right after the opening verse, Clem jumps straight into the chorus prematurely. The rest of the band manages to recover and carry on.
"Animal Boy"
This is a lightning-fast tune, and Clem does a solid job staying on beat. He even handles the slower section well. Nice work, Clem!
"Wart Hog"
Another high-speed number, and once again, he stays in step.
"Surfin' Bird"
Fine.
"Cretin Hop"
Not bad at all, just a handful of tiny slips.
"I Don't Wanna Walk Around With You"
He gets through this one with very few errors.
"Today Your Love, Tomorrow The World"
Solid playing throughout the duration of the track.
"Pinhead"
Aside from forgetting a few cymbal crashes, he does a decent job.
"Chinese Rock"
Really good work here; he even hits the chorus sections perfectly.
"Somebody Put Something in My Drink"
Everything is alright until Clem starts drumming through the end of the song again. It's not quite as jarring as what happened during "Crummy Stuff," though.
"Bonzo Goes to Bitburg"
It feels like Clem might have been improvising his way through this track, which makes it surprisingly intricate for a Ramones song, though I did catch a couple of tiny slips here and there despite no glaring mistakes.
"Do You Wanna Dance?"
Nicely done.
"California Sun"
A solid effort, although it seems like the drums are lagging behind the beat once again.
"We're a Happy Family"
I suspect Clem was breathing a sigh of relief to finally hit the final note! He handled it quite well, avoiding any big blunders and really nailing that closing moment.
