Dr. Feelgood
Down by the Jetty

Faithful to the line, when as a young kid I first fell for English punk, I convinced myself with eyes and especially ears tightly closed that pub rock was an absolute mess. Johnny Rotten and some of the hooligans wandering the streets of London couldn't possibly be wrong; they played music I was too passionate about, and if they despised something, that thing was definitely terrible. Just think of prog: punks despised prog, I had listened to some of my big brother's prog records and I found them quite repulsive, so Johnny Rotten was absolutely right. Regarding pub rock, I didn't even bother listening to anything, I relied on my eyes and ears tightly shut, indeed.

Why certain punk factions hated pub rock so much I still haven't figured out today; I guess it was due to generational conflict. Those who played pub rock were a bit older than the punk players and they were inspired by music as old as the hills, blues, rock 'n' roll, the music that the grandparents and parents of Johnny and his crew listened to. Neither Elvis, nor the Beatles, nor even the Rolling Stones were sources of inspiration; they were the enemy. And if the old dreamed of endless shopping lists, Johnny and the others were destined to end up like flowers in the trash, and no one even talked about the future, just trying to survive the void.

Then the Clash came out with «London Calling», went to the United States, opening for the Who, even at Shea Stadium, where the Beatles had definitely skyrocketed, and so I had a doubt that the "us versus them" story was in the end a great bullshit, useful only for stirring up some dust.

Then came the Ramones – they're always around, of course – and that thing Johnny Ramone said, who had set up that group and would do anything to keep the hippie crap away, literally.

And in the end, even those who played pub rock wanted to sweep away the hippie crap and reclaim the satisfaction of shouting that music was flesh and soul but also sweat, tears, and blood, yet also joy and revolution. And you who were under the stage, with a beer mug in hand to forget ten damned hours spent on the assembly line, you weren't really that different from us who were on that stage with a beer mug placed on the 100-watt Marshall just to yank our life away from the gears of those modern times machines, so, damn it, wake up, grab a guitar, learn three chords and join us on stage.

Johnny Ramone understood everything, unlike Johnny Rotten, and in the end, when I put my hand on fire that the Ramones are the gospel of punk and the Pistols the humblest prophets, not even the chosen ones, it means that in the end, I understood everything too.

In the meantime, there was also the lightning bolt for Graham Parker who, it seems, came out right from the pub rock cauldron.

And then I deviated from the line and gave pub rock a chance.

To Dr. Feelgood first, easy-peasy, everyone suggested them to me to approach the genre. And then that name, the doctor Feelgood, Aretha Franklin who would hit me a few centuries later, and love is a damn serious matter.

And since it's a fact that the first albums are always the best, here come one after the other «Down by the Jetty», «Malpractice», «Stupidity», and «Sneakin' Suspicion».

Which makes 4 albums in the span of 2 years, three in the studio and one live, just like the Ramones, and anyone who dares to say that pub rock had little to do with punk philosophy doesn't understand a thing, like me when I was blinded by fidelity to the line.

And those are the albums where Wilko Johnson is present.

Together with Lee Brilleaux.

Wilko doesn't know how to play, he does three chords, always the same, just like Johnny Ramone, beyond barre chords and power chords, nothing. Sure, try playing straight for an hour like Wilko and Johnny, with sweat pouring from your face and arms to soak the guitar neck, mixing with the blood that still flows from your fingertips when the calluses happen to burst like a melon while you thrash like a madman, all that electricity entering you and taking you over. Mr. Mosrite – who used to build Johnny Ramone's guitar – once said that someone like him, as good as him, had never existed and never would.

Apart from Wilko, that's my opinion. Wilko who looked like a crazy marionette, back and forth, back and forth, pounding out kilometers on that stage, in perpetual motion, without peace, like an animal in a cage. Wilko whom Johnny Ramone (probably) doesn't even know but shares the same spirit and more technique, can strum upwards, and occasionally throws in 20-second solos into the songs. Wilko whom a few years ago doctors diagnosed with terminal pancreatic cancer, gave him a few months to live, and he sent all the doctors to hell, sent the cancer to hell, the cancer understood it wasn't the right atmosphere and let go. Wilko made an album with Roger Daltrey, just to party a bit among spirited veterans and to reinforce the concept: who’s in charge. Wilko whose electric guitar is like a machine gun, like Jimi Hendrix, like Pete Townshend. If you’re too cultured for the doctor and you don't set foot in pubs because they smell of sweat, put on a video with Wilko, even turn down the volume, and you'll understand everything instantly.

Lee is the one in the front line, with Wilko covering his back with the guitar like a machine gun, he grabs the microphone and spits a few rough stories into it, those where love is such a serious matter and can really hurt, as the fathers and mothers of blues and soul have taught him, and then he blows madly into the harmonica, because Wilko can’t handle all the solos alone. Always in a jacket, never a tie, short hair always tousled, abundant sweat. Lee, however, couldn't make it and died at 40, due to a tumor, maybe because Wilko wasn't there to cover his back with his electric machine gun. For the little I understood, he seems much like a less refined, less sophisticated Paul Weller, and maybe that’s the difference between pub rock and mod revival. For those who like the Jam, though, I bet anything you want that Dr. Feelgood would appeal a lot.

With «Down by the Jetty» Lee and Wilko stepped out of the pub, bringing with them all the best stereotypes of the genre, and tried to sing them to the world, but the world didn’t really listen much – except «Stupidity» which even made it to the top of the charts, Johnny Rotten take that and learn how it's done – and those who didn’t get it all said it was because Lee and Wilko didn’t have much to say.

I, who have already written too much, only tell you to drop the needle on «She Does It Right», «Roxette», «Keep It Out of Sight», and «All Through the City» and you’ll instantly understand everything too.

Then, if you don’t like them, it's your problem, Dr. Feelgood will make peace with it, as he always has.