supersoul

For me, the true punk spirit lives here... a group playing in a country hall in Texas with a singer wearing a t-shirt featuring two cowboys who are sponging each other, and the bassist shouting "you cowboys are all faggots" while taking swings at those who try to attack him—this is the apotheosis of punk. It's not just about dressing like women like the Dolls, or like vampires like Dave Vanian, or whipping out your dick like Iggy. The Pistols (beyond the shady business maneuvers of the red-headed bastard, who indeed lost control of them) embody absolute nihilism: being on top and telling everyone to fuck off.

Do you care about that trickster Malcolm McLaren and VIVIENNE Westwood, when Joe Strummer went to see the Sex Pistols for the first time, who didn’t give a damn about the audience and decided to stop playing with the 101'ers, who instead begged those four pub drunks to listen to their "The Keys to Your Heart"? Honestly, I trust Strummer more than vm ;)

Well, if you want to hear the songs, buy their "High Time" from 1971, which is a great record (more than the tired Back in the USA) of rock 'n' roll. They might have been famous at their debut because they were Sinclair's protégés, but they are still famous today when nobody knows who Sinclair is. This is an exceptional live debut, something that others achieve only after years locked in a studio, and many like a tired obligatory stop decided by the label. Here, everything feels natural, like the scream "KICK OUT THE JAMS, MOTHERFUCKER!" It's not just about burping or shouting; even those who listen to it for the first time today perceive that this is the revolution made rock music, and that rock music is revolution. And we are not talking about the fake revolution of bands like RATM.

But how can you not love these two superstars? Nice review, but more than anything, it was that sly producer Gary Katz who recruited the musicians, bringing in that excellent guitarist Jeff Baxter, a guy who had played with the legendary Ultimate Spinach. After that initial hit, they seemed to deflate a bit, but the real show was yet to come with Aja and Gaucho, when they were no longer a band but the duo Becker/Fagen with a bunch of exceptional session musicians.

...as long as Linder thinned the eyelids :-)

I have always seen them as the sonic and cultural evolution of people like Slapp Happy from Blegvad and Krause.

They were as hypnotic as the Can, not by chance did they cover their "Yoo Doo Right."

The girl you see at the organ in the linked video was Honey Davis's partner, who died of cancer (if I remember correctly) a few years later, leaving him with a bunch of kids to take care of. Honey was lost and picked up an even more rejected loser than himself: Brian Kild.

In that review, out of ten comments, only one user knew them; here it already seems to be going better. Extraordinary album by an extraordinary character, beyond all commercial and civil rules. For me, the garage, as someone commented, has nothing to do with it; Brian Kild has nothing revivalistic about him; it's the metropolitan hard psycho blues of a drifter who disassembles and reassembles tuned motorcycles at the edge of the city. PS The cover of "Rest in Peace," on the other hand, is beautiful.