Heartbreakers
Like A Mother Fucker

"Like A Mother Fucker", and the rock'n'roll from the New York underground catapults like a slingshot into the first cries of the newborn 1977 English punk.

To be honest, this story already begins back in 1972, with the New York Dolls touring in England: a short tour that witnesses the death of the original drummer Billy Murcia, but leaves an indelible mark, something latent that will explode later...

Let's jump now to the end of 1976: Johnny Thunders, the brain and the heart, the former lead guitarist of the legendary -glam- New York Dolls, having purged the uncomfortable and cumbersome Richard Hell from the first formation of the Heartbreakers, arrives in London with the band, invited by the cunning Malcolm McLaren for the Anarchy Tour. Nineteen dates are scheduled in small clubs; only 3 take place because the Queen's government steps in directly to curb this inconvenient ardor.
McLaren wanted to pick up the conversation interrupted with the NYD prematurely and create a music scene similar to the New York one; he is shrewd, he wants war and the first covers of English tabloids... The fuse is lit... then the explosion with the Sex Pistols, the Clash, the Damned...

Puritanical England goes crazy, not ready for this outrage. With Richard Hell, the look of ripped t-shirts, razor blades, and safety pins is imported, while the Heartbreakers bring the leather jackets and heroin. It's the sex & drugs & rock & roll sung by Ian Dury. Track Records beats the competition and, despite the inconvenient reputation of Junkies, signs the Heartbreakers. The single -Chinese Rocks- is released, causing a sensation because it talks about drugs; it does very well on the charts, even surpassing -God Save The Queen- by the Sex Pistols for a moment. The discussion about the album comes up, and the terrain quickly becomes slippery. The album is developed in two different recording studios with a thousand complications, and the Heartbreakers do not have the support of management adequate to their worth.

Despite a mix and production that are absolutely scandalous and not up to expectations, -L.A.M.F.- stands with -Never Mind The Bollocks- by the Sex Pistols as the true punk manifesto. It's the London/NY confrontation played without any holds barred. However, the starting line is the same, namely the sound of the NYD, of which McLaren coincidentally was the last Manager. If Johnny Rotten makes the ironic verse to -Looking For A Kiss- by the NYD in -New York-, Johnny Thunders replies his supremacy in -London Boys-, in the demo recorded for EMI along with -Too Much Junkie Business... He is the father of this new (sub)metropolitan culture and he proclaims it loudly right from the cover photo of "L.A.M.F." which sees the group captured in the dim light at the end of an alley. In this very early phase, I exclude the Clash: the more extremist fringes say they -betrayed-, that punk is dead when they signed with major CBS. The Damned, on the other hand, more educated and immature compared to the others, are more oriented towards the unhealthy sound of the Stooges. Johnny Thunders then takes the stage, technically he is the best and he knows it, he also has a historic memory unknown to Steve Jones who is his imitator among young punk rock guitarists.

"Get Off the Phone", "It's Not Enough", "Baby Talk", "Let Go", "Born To Lose", "Chinese Rocks", "All By Myself"... the Heartbreakers play a reckless and irreverent rock & roll, between Eddie Cochran and the Yardbirds, played on the clattering notes and the fast guitar solos of MR. Johnny Thunders. They are the ideal continuation of the NYD: too bad the collaboration with the genius of Richard Hell did not materialize, they could have been the r'n'r band of the century. Despite everything, their style will become the reference for a myriad of emerging bands... voice-guitar-bass-drums and the desire to split the world in two. They are the American cousins, a gang-band, street thugs in pure b-movie noir style: they are seen with astonishment and curiosity by young English people, and damn they play tremendously and technically well compared to all the others.

"L.A.M.F." is born but the group is not happy with the final result; it is not successful and is poorly received by critics due to the technically poor sound. Punk, for better or worse, now speaks with the voice of Johnny Rotten and the Sex Pistols. The group falls apart, Jerry Nolan leaves... they have failed the target. Yet, "L.A.M.F." in the end is a wonderful but incomplete album, it's what could have been but wasn't. Paradoxically, it fully reflects the -loser- personality of Johnny Thunders. The anthem of -Born To Lose- is that of a generation of losers of which Thunders is a part.

For him, there will still be the brilliance of his masterpiece, the last flash in the sad and autobiographical -So Alone- recorded as a solo artist, coincidentally with the collaboration of the -English- Steve Jones and Paul Cook of the Sex Pistols and Peter Perrett of the Only Ones. It's the undisputed recognition of their father. After this, the slow but inexorable descent into heroin hell from which he will never recover... until the end in New Orleans in 1991. Richard Hell said of him that he is the r'n'r Dean Martin of heroin. I perceive a dignity that I have never found again: his Heartbreakers were truly delightful and musically above all their contemporary groups. In the end, history has reshuffled the cards and put things in their right place: the reissue of the -lost 77 mixes- by Jungle Records in 95 and re-released in 2003 proves me right; it gives us back the Heartbreakers finally in their splendid splendor... what should have been indeed. The -revisited- of the album operated by Johnny Thunders with Tony James (ex Generation X) in 1984 does not count: it's another thing, there's a different dignity, the fire of 1977 is missing inside and it's a simple commercial operation, maybe the attempt to reclaim something that slipped away at the time. I've always preferred the originals to the surrogates and reissues.

Now Johnny Thunders lies in St. Mary's Cemetery in NY; a few rows away there is also his lifelong friend and road companion Jerry Nolan. Rest in peace Johnny, you were the idol of my youth and I miss you terribly; so much that it seems like I still see you on stage with your inseparable -Gibson Les Paul TV- honey-yellow colored from the late '50s.