ARTICLES
By Michael A. Lucas
History is written by the winners, as some wise guy once remarked...in the case of the mid-seventies punk rock, of course, the "winners" were the mainstream "rock" critics, the "entertainment" conglomerates and bourgeoisie society (pardon my lapse into profound punk thinking) which proved, once again, that it can chew up absolutely anything in the continuing quest of the masses for superficial novelty.
Yes, the same jerks who were most definitely not invited to the party are the ones who have played the most significant roles in establishing (in piecemeal fashion) the widely perceived "history" of punk rock. Not surprisingly, the obsequious, fudgy-faced toadies who had to compromise the ideals of rock and roll for a grab at the brass ring (and let's face it, most of the simps in "the scene" then, as now, don't really care about what they sound like as much as they care about playing "rock star") figure most prominently in the "official" history.
Of course, even the oldest fart of "rock critic" has to new ascribe some "importance" to bands who were around and releasing vinyl in'1976. Except for CRIME, whose single "Hot Wire My Heart"/"Baby You're So Repulsive" was released in late '76 (making it one of the first punk singles of the seventies), and (thankfully) never existed in the same universe as the buffoons who leek at the current sanes charts and proclaim some laughable nonentity (pick most anyone form the "rock" or "alternative" Top 50) an "important force in rock music" when the bastards couldn't rock to save their lives.To illustrate the importance of CRIME's first single in human terms, (in other words, in terms that give legitimacy to my side of the story) I'd have to recount the story of my cousin from Washington State's first exposure to the Sonic's "The Witch" in 1965. "I was sittin' down at your Uncle Chris's house, an' they had a li'l stereo system built into their bookshelves", he explained, "I was listenin' to the radio and all of a sudden, 'The Witch' came on and I jumped about a mile in the air and I said 'Hot damn! That sounds like a bunch of niggers!'"
Being a sophisticated suburban teen myself, my reaction to "Hot Wire My Heart" a decade later was free of recial epithets. It was otherwise remarkably similar, as I jumped about a mile in the air and thoughtfully pondered, "Hot Damn! That soulds like a speedfreak Little Richard and James Williamson session". This was what I'd been waiting years for.
Prior to the release of the first single, CRIME had played only one show. In 1977, as the "scene" developed and more venues were available, CRIME gigged regularly in San Francisco as well as touring out of town (including one trip to LA with a "Fun Bus" full of rabid fans, myself admittedly included, in tow and a show at San Quentin penitentiary-roll over Johnny Cash!). From their first post-"Hot Wire" show (January 19th 1977, the pre-Dirk Dirksen Mabuhay Gardens) to their very last days (in the early '80s) there was an interestin paradox about CRIME shows on their home turf. They always drew well, but a significant part of the audience was apathetic and there were always a few people vocal in their dislike of CRIME, ofttimes resulting in violence and, when the police were involved, riots (CRIME's habit of wearing regulation police uniforms at shows and around town caused a certain amount of friction with the SFPD). Their alienation from certain factions of the "scene" seemed to be owing to CRIME"s adamant refusal to go along with whatever the local punk "party line" was supposed to be at the moment. They had more interst in rock and roll than in "punk" as a "movement", with the result that they made enemies of most of the serious trendoids in the area. the self-proclaimed "authorities" on the "punk movement" recognised by the organs of mainstriam culture (in addition to those individuals who regarded their own lack of connection to the big bad men in their "corporate uniforms" as some sort of validation of their "punk politics" which usually consisted of the Zoove Groover-hippie phase dictum "Don't bum me out, Mr. Businsessman") downplayed CRIME's importance in favour of the few local punk rock bands stemming from the same perios (who downplayed the "rock"in coming to have more to do with imagined art movement) as well as bands of a much later date.
"Hot Wire My Heart" was the first West Coast punk rekkid I ever bought. It cost me a buck at some gone forever punk store in NYC. This was like 1979 or thereabouts. It had been around a while like a handfu! of other West Coast things (Bags, Germs, Weirdos, Nuns) but we kind of sneered at it (and the others). NYC had a chip on it's shouIder. We thought we created and owned the shit and that London was a valid and fantastic reaction to it. The images we got from Cali were of kids dressing up and acting like English anarchy punks. We figured that poser shit wouId die, especially after Sid died. But it didn't. And then Reagan was president. And then we unclerstood. California screaming. Suburban wasteland. Middle cIass hippy. Fuck. Hardcore USA explocled and it'sdirect roots were these records we balked at. So we bought 'em all and played the fuck out of 'em. Total energy spread. The Ramones were hippy Reaganites. We hated Reagan. Still do. Crime will always be reIevant. Fuck Bush. Frankie Fix rules.Thurston MooreColumbus Day '91
CRIMECrime is the cIassic "terrible . . . but good" band. Every town must have one. They seem to have decidec! one day, several years ago now, that rock was too SLOW, and to have proceeded on that basic assumption ever since. More than once they have been accused of playing out of tune, to which they cooly reply, "Wel l you see, the city's out of tune, so however we are, it's still cool." Believingthat, of course, is half the battIe. Much of the remaining battIe has been fought by James Stark and his solid graphics for Crime's postersJonathan Formula used to do sound for Crime and he fondly recalIs:As stone-faced as any street gang, as polished as the June Taylor Dancers, they worked the stage with the gum-chewing impassivity of real cops . . . The effect was one of workmanlike zeal, in the same league as a construction crew putting up a wall of sheetrock, or firefighters mopping up a storefront blaze; intense, dedicated, just doing their job . . . There was no virtuosity in the show. No guitar leads, no drum solos, none of the 1975 heavy metal cliches. Just power chords and the refinement of every macho pose and posture imaginable.Crime apparently preceded the Police in donning "peace officer" garb. Perhaps it was for this reason that they were invited to play a gig inside the walIs of San Quentin. A cruel but telling joke upon the real incarcerated criminals, as the band mocked the very uniforms upon their backs with lyrics detailing the joys of murder, rape, grand theft and so forth.
ARTICLES