The Avengers
Avengers

THE REVIEW

“Alice in Wonderland” in its first draft, for Carroll, was also “Alice Underground.”

“Alice Underground” in the American punk scene, for me, was Penelope Houston.

Born in Los Angeles on December 17, 1958, she grew up in Seattle. In '77, in San Francisco, she enrolled in the Art Institute and founded the Avengers, of which she was the singer and songwriter. That is, she «entered into the mindset of expecting only extraordinary things, as she found it rather boring and dull that everything went in the usual way». Thus, she fell into the rabbit hole of punk, where mice and rabbits give you orders, where you continually become bigger and smaller: «I'm never quite sure what I'm going to be from one minute to the next».

So, before the proliferation of hardcore bands (the wonderland), there were the Avengers, with their teenage rebel songs.

The Avengers, more or less the first punk band of the Bay Area, are jangling and abrasive guitar, tight structures and rhythmic aggression, the melodic impact of Penelope, slogans shouted with anger. A raw, rough, edgy, sharp, crude, and ruinous sound.

A rushing flow of strength, cohesiveness, and melody. Pure youthful rebellion, call-backs to the rock ’n’ roll of the 60s, pop instincts, speed of execution, hardness, and edginess. With a certain dark humor. But, above all, pure stripped passion. Unadorned. Not just Ramones or Rotten and Vicious.

Energy, melody, vituperation. Gut energy. Direct melody. Naive vituperation, a spontaneous cry celebrating social and cultural revolt.

The tracks collected here are all legendary. The so-called “The Pink Album” was released posthumously in 1983, during the era of Sonic Youth's “Confusion Is Sex,” far from the intense 77-78 period. It includes two EPs produced at the time: the first with the anthemic “We Are the One” and the second (“White Noise”), with Steve Jones of the Pistols in the production seat, who also offers the respective outtakes. Additionally, there are a couple of contributions to compilations. Superb is the Stones-like cover of “Paint It Black”. “Avengers” is a must-have, nothing less! And it's how their album would have sounded in '79 if only they had achieved the longevity. It captures that free and straightforward energy, which others would only later imitate or crystallize into a “style.” Nonetheless, many would beautifully inherit it, from the Black Flag to X.

As for the contemporaries Crime and Nuns, also among the first punk bands of the Bay Area, they don't have the same wonderful childlike anger. They can't be called damned, or blessed, in the same way. They are more compromised with adulthood. It's not a flaw, «but in the end, there's no more room to become bigger». As Alice says to herself.

Let it be clear that the Avengers were incendiary live. Their performances set venues like CBGB's and Max's Kansas City ablaze. This is evidenced by the live track, fittingly titled “Fuck You”.

Music! The roaming riffs of Greg Ingraham overload and hyper-speed Chuck Berry and even Johnny Thunders. The dragging and dirty rhythm section is entrusted to the “slamming” drums of Danny Furious and the wild bass of Jimmy Wisley. The lyrics and singing of Houston are “braggadocio,” that is, female swagger, yes, but also hidden sweetness. She always has, so to speak, a dagger in one hand and a sugar stick in the other.

“We Are The One,” “I Believe In Me”, “The American In Me”, “Open Your Eyes” are thus unmatched!

“We are not Jesus (Christ)/ We are not (pigs) fascists/ We are not (industrial) capitalists/ We are not (even) communists/ We are the ones, we are the only ones.”

“I am not the lamb/ I am not Jesus/ I am not ready to sacrifice my innocence/ I am not ready to discuss politics/ I am not willing to taste your corruption/… / I don't want your money/ Or your recording contract/ You just want to use my youth/ And my innocence/… / You will never use me/ I will not be your martyr.”

“The American in me makes me say that dying in war is an honor/ But it's just the politicians' lie/…/ The American in me doesn't even ask anymore/ Why Kennedy was killed by the FBI.”

“They've drugged you with the sedative of music and television/ You're part of the blank generation/ Open your eyes. Open your eyes/ Can't you see what's happening./ Open your eyes. Open your eyes/ You watch TV to figure out what's right and wrong/ Open your eyes to what you've kneeled before/ Open your eyes and you can reject it/ I want you to get angry, I want to make you think/ But you swallow all that crap…”.

Dear Penelope, if I had been at the Winterland Arena on January 14, 1978, at the last date of the Sex Pistols' American tour, I wouldn't have dared to gob at you. I wouldn't have spared the Pistols, in the most typical meaning of the gesture.

Penelope Houston, after her band's split in 1979, made a few appearances with the Screamers, collaborated with Howard Devoto, and then -surprisingly- embraced folk artistically. She did really well from “Birdboys” in 1987 to “Eighteen Stories Down” in 2003, between contemporary folk and adult alternative pop/rock.

With “Alice Underground,” we conclude thus: «Pretend to be two people! Yes, there's barely enough of me left to make one respectable person!». Respectable in Alice's language means grand. That is to say, Penelope is grand.