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John Lydon on What the World Needs Now

John Lydon is one of the most quotable men in the music industry. He’s been considered one of the biggest instigators in punk rock history, but chatting with him these days, it seems as if Mr. Rotten has a heart of gold. I talked with Lydon last week about his new album, his D.I.Y. ethic, and his love for the Peabody Hotel in a conversation that was as interesting as it was inspiring.

Memphis Flyer: In 2012, Public Image Ltd released their first album in 17 years, but the band has been back together since 2009. What led up to the reformation? What clicked to make you want to start again?

John Lydon: The two decades out there in the doldrums were me arguing with the major labels I was on. I couldn’t function as a musician, so I had to go and find other work. I’ve given a lot to the music industry, and they’ve taken a lot from me. But there’s no self-pity involved in this. The time off allowed me to recharge my batteries.

How do you feel about people chalking you up as just a reunion act?

It’s music, and, as long as you live, you have music in your soul. It shouldn’t be this attitude of “how dare you [reform], go away and die.” We do this music because we love it. Not much happens in the teenage angst years that is relevant to the whole experience. I view myself as a folksinger, and folksinging has no limitations. I’m true to my Irish roots, and we will continue to write rebel songs. As long as I live, I will rebel.

You’ve had complete control over this new album and the singles that are coming out soon. You funded the album, released it yourself, and drew the singles artwork yourself. How important was that to you?

It was worth every second of the effort. Most of my career was fraught with problems with the record labels because I absolutely refused to compromise. Patience is a virtue. Possess it if you can. I’m able to sleep well at night because I tell no lies, otherwise I wouldn’t be worthy of my name. My culture would despise me. It’s all family values to me, but I don’t mean in a Republican way because, let’s face it, all their families are fucked.

The drawings [on the singles] represent the prankster, the trickster, the joker. That’s the person that mocks ceremony, the most excellent character that every culture needs. The clown is actually the most intelligent, as we know with politicians.

What are your thoughts on punk/post-punk music as a genre these days?

I want to listen to an original point of view. When I hear bands that are imitating a genre or a style, I lose interest. Variations on the theme don’t come into my dreams; this is why my music collection is so huge. There are enough of us out there creating original music, and more than enough imitating, of which I’m not the slightest bit interested in.

I recently read an interview where you said you weren’t going to cancel a gig because of a boo-boo on your ankle. What’s the worst thing personally that’s happened to you on tour?

I once had to cancel because I tore the back of my throat from oversinging. It has to be pretty damn serious for me to let everyone down. I was raised with proper Irish sensibilities to never let no one down. This is why our audience respects us. They have every right to demand that from us. We don’t need light shows, or dancers, or fireworks. We aren’t a Las Vegas production. The heart and soul of live music is connecting with the audience’s eyes. It’s the point and purpose of my existence.

What is the lyrical process like for you? Do you have ideas or fully-written songs before the music is written?

No, I never do it that way because we play so intensely and tour so extensively. In my last book, Anger Is an Energy, I wrote about things I’d never openly declared before, but now I can open the doors to that side of that me. I’m not looking for sympathy any longer. I wanted to see if I could survive in the world on just my merits alone. I endured one hell of a horrible childhood, but I’m still here, exploring now these painful areas, personal loss when your memories are stolen from you. We have to learn to share our pain and share our joys. I’m not interested in people who continue the spreading of hate. I never have been, which is what I’ve always been accused of. I’ve never written a song attacking a human being; I’ve attacked institutions because those are what divide us.

One of the earliest punk shows in Memphis occurred when the Sex Pistols played at the Taliesyn Ballroom. Do you remember anything special about that show?

Yes, I’ve heard that place is a burger bar now.

It’s actually a Taco Bell.

Well, that’s great I guess, if you’re interested in getting diarrhea. Memphis is a very special town to me. My best friend and manager got married there, and I’ve always had a very fond attraction to the Peabody Hotel. The Peabody is not just a hotel. It’s an absolute cultural icon, and without our past, there is no future. Everything is connected.

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Film/TV Film/TV/Etc. Blog

Kurt Cobain: Montage Of Heck

Even though Nirvana drummer, Foo Fighters frontman, and ambassador of rock in the twenty first century Dave Grohl was not interviewed by director Brett Morgen for the documentary Kurt Cobain: Montage of Heck, he still gets the film’s best single line. In a Nevermind tour-era television interview, Grohl, bassist Krist Novoselic, and Kurt Cobain are asked about the rapturous reviews the album has been getting.

“If I read that stuff about another band, I wouldn’t believe it.” Grohl says, inadvertently summing up Nirvana’s entire career.

Kurt Cobain: Montage of Heck is the first documentary to be authorized by the Cobain estate—in other words, it was Courtney Love’s idea. Director Morgen, who co-directed The Kid Stays In The Picture, the excellent 2002 documentary about legendary film producer Robert Evans, had access to thousands of photographs, notebooks, journals, audio tapes, and hours of never-before seen video.

The film’s title is taken from a psychedelic audio collage tape Cobain made while living in Olympia, Washington with his first girlfriend Tracy Marander, whose interview is one of the most interesting parts of the film. For the audio material where there was no video accompaniment, Morgen adds animations in a variety of styles. In some animated sequences, drawings and comics Cobain created are used as jumping-off points, to mixed results. Some of the best animation comes from Husko Husling, who renders Cobain’s hometown of Aberdeen as moody, dark acrylic paintings.

Grohl is not the only person in the Cobain story who was not interviewed for the film. If you’re looking for insight about the band’s interpersonal relations, the network of 80s alternative bands who nurtured Nirvana and were in turn plugged by Cobain when he was in the international spotlight, or analysis of why Kurt, Krist, and Dave made it huge when equally talented acts like The Pixies remained cult figures, you won’t find them in this movie. What you will find is an intense, intimate portrait of Cobain that makes him look less like the “the last real rock star” and more like an everyman. He was an outcast in a small, football-obsessed town, a sensitive kid who never recovered from his parents’ divorce when he was nine years old. He was diagnosed as ADD at 10 and given ritalin. He hung out with losers and punks because they were the only people who would accept him. Music was the only thing that brought him joy, so he tried to find a band to play with until he hooked up with Novoselic, and the pair became best friends. In the film, there’s no mention of the parade of drummers the pair went through before finding Grohl or the transition from Sub Pop indie rock darlings to David Geffen-backed superstars.

The extensive archival material, which includes such gems as Nirvana playing to an audience of two in an Olympia, Washington practice space, the notebook where the Cobain listed potential names, outtakes from the famous Nevermind cover photograph, raw footage from the “Smells Like Teen Spirit” video shoot, and a home recording of Cobain singing The Beatles “And I Love Her” to Love, recreates the unseen context from which the Nirvana legend grew. Stripped of her riot grrrl exterior, Love appears just as vulnerable, broken, and talented as Cobain. It’s suddenly easy to see why he fell in love with the most hated woman of the 1990s; as Novoselic says, “She was intelligent, artistic…and she did a lot of drugs.” Love didn’t drive Cobain into junkiedom. She didn’t have to. Heroin, like punk rock, was one of their shared interests.

But there’s one piece of famous Cobain audio missing: the recording of Love reading Cobain’s suicide note at the Seattle memorial service four days after he was found dead. The mixture of raw pain, sarcasm, and lashing anger in her voice were seen by many as proof of her callousness at the time, and cemented her reputation as an evil harpy. Listening to it in the context created by Montage Of Heck, her reaction is perfectly understandable, and even more heartbreaking.

Kurt Cobain: Montage Of Heck is currently airing on HBO and available on demand on HBO Go. 

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Film/TV Film/TV/Etc. Blog

Music Video Monday: Guitar Wolf

Wake up! Its Monday, and that means a new Memphis music video to stuff in your eye-holes. 

Japanese garage punk madmen Guitar Wolf have a deep connection with Memphis. Their first album Wolf Rock was also the first record release by Goner Records, and the band made their film debut in Mike McCarthy’s 1997 movie The Sore Losers. McCarthy incorporated clips from The Sore Losers into the video for “Invader Ace”, a kamakazi blast of punk that will definitely get the blood flowing this Monday morning. Special bonus rock: Jack Oblivian, star of The Store Losers, draws down and gets the girl.  

Music Video Monday: Guitar Wolf

If you want to see your video on Music Video Monday, email cmccoy@memphisflyer.com. 

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Film/TV Film/TV/Etc. Blog

Music Video Monday: Nots

For 4/20 we have a psychedelic blast of color from Memphis garage punks Nots

The clip for the Goner Records artists latest single “White Noise” comes ahead of their upcoming tour with New Orleans’ organ maniacs Quintron and Miss Pussycat, who appear in the video (in drag, in Mr. Quintron’s case). Shot at the Saturn Bar and directed by New Orleans video artist 9ris 9ris, the fixed-camera video cranks up the chroma and exploits analog video distortion to create a warm, shifting color palette.

Music Video Monday: Nots

If you would like to see your video featured on Music Video Monday, email cmccoy@memphisflyer.com.

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Film/TV Film/TV/Etc. Blog

Music Video Of The Moment: Nots “Decadence”

Natalie Hoffman in Nots new music video ‘Decadence’

Memphis director Geoffrey Brent Shrewsbury‘s new music video for the Nots is as chaotic, raw, and beautiful as the band’s music. Combining performance footage, a studio shoot, and some well-chosen manipulated stock, “Decadence” is reminiscent of the golden age of MTV. 

Music Video Of The Moment: Nots ‘Decadence’

In Shrewsberry’s career, he has done everything from short narratives to PBS documentaries, but he got his start making stylish music videos for some of the best Midtown rock bands of the last 20 years. Here’s his director himself starring in his first video, a narrative of the ultimate New York street hassle he made for The Obivians’ “You Better Behave”. 

Music Video Of The Moment: Nots ‘Decadence’ (2)

A few years later he immortalized Jay Reatard and Alicja Trout’s seminal band Lost Sounds at their peak with the Gothy “Memphis Is Dead”, which saw the filmmaker come into his own as a visual stylist. It’s particularly cool when the video, which has been frantically phantom riding through Downtown, slows to a theatrically languid pace as the music downshifts from punk drive into synth dirge. Shrewsbury is also a musician, and its his deep understanding of and love for Memphis punk that allows him to create such compelling work in a time when music videos are as important as ever.

Music Video Of The Moment: Nots ‘Decadence’ (3)

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Film Features Film/TV

Stop Making Sense

What makes a great concert film? Is it a big event with dozens of stars, like Woodstock or Wattstax? Is it chancing into horror, like Gimme Shelter? Is it a gathering for a noble cause like The Concert For Bangladesh? Or is it a heartstring tugger like The Last Waltz?

Jonathan Demme’s Stop Making Sense makes the argument that the key to greatness is catching a group at just the right time. In December 1983, Talking Heads were riding a wave of creativity that had started at CBGB’s in 1977. Rhode Island School Of Design dropouts David Byrne, Tina Weymouth, and Chris Frantz, along with former Modern Lover Jerry Harrison, were the art rock center of the punk movement. Their tour in support of Speaking In Tongues incorporated all of the band’s advances into a loose narrative stage show inspired equally by Japanese Noh theater and Twyla Tharp modern dance. Demme shot three shows over one weekend in Los Angles with eight 35mm cameras and edited together the mountain of footage into something that is not quite narrative, not quite documentary, and not quite rock show. Byrne is scarily committed to his onstage persona, the wide-eyed, borderline autistic geek, an alien reporting on the human race through twisted, polyrhythmic songs that stretched the definition of punk and Western pop music. Demme treats him like a leading man in a musical, making brave choices like holding on a single shot of Byrne for four minutes of “Once In A Lifetime” and not showing the audience until the very end of the film.

In Byrne’s book How Music Works, he downplays the myth of musical genius in favor of the genius of scenes — groups of artists who push each other to greater heights. Stop Making Sense is the perfect meeting of musicians at the peak of their power and a director finding his voice. Catch it on the IMAX screen Thursday, October 23rd at 7pm to see what it looks like when all of the pieces come together perfectly for an artist.

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Sing All Kinds We Recommend

Gonerfest 11: Blood, Sweat, and Beers

The 11th edition of Gonerfest roared into Midtown last weekend, with punk, garage, power pop, noise, and just plain weird bands from all over the world converged on the Bluff City in an annual gathering of the tribes that has gotten bigger and more exciting each year. Festivities kicked off in the Cooper-Young Gazebo with New York’s Paul Collins Beat

Gonerfest 11: Blood, Sweat, and Beers

I spent the weekend embedded with the Rocket Science Audio crew, who were live streaming the performances to people from as far away as Australia watching on the web. I’ve done this for several years, formerly with Live From Memphis, and this year we brought the full, multi-camera experience to the audience. It’s a lot of fun, in that I get to be up close and focused on the music, but also quite grueling. 

The Rocket Science Audio van outside Goner Records.

The highlights of Thursday night at the Hi Tone were Ross Johnson, Gail Clifton, Jeff Evans, Steve Selvidge, Alex Greene, and a host of others playing songs from Alex Chilton’s chaotically beautiful 1979 solo album Like Flies On Sherbert. The mixture of old school Memphis punks who had played on the album and the best of the current generation of Memphis music made for an incredible listening experience.

The Grifters’ Dave Shouse on the Rocket Science Audio livestream.

Thursday night’s headliners were 90s Memphis lo-fi masters The Grifters. Recently reunited after more than a decade of inactivity, Dave Shouse, Scott Taylor, Trip Lamkins, and Stan Galimore have their groove back. At the Hi Tone, they even sounded—dare I say it—rehearsed. 

I couldn’t make Friday night due to another commitment, but Friday afternoon at The Buccaneer hosted a great collection of bands, starting off with a blast from Memphis hardcore outfit Gimp Teeth

Cole Wheeler fronts Gimp Teeth at the Buccaneer.

Next was one of the highlights of the festival: The return of Red Sneakers. Back at Gonerfest 5, the duo from Nara, Japan showed up unnannounced wanting to play the big show. When Jay Reatard cancelled, they got their chance and blew the roof off of Murphy’s in front of an unsuspecting crowd. This year, they did it again, only they were invited, and they substituted a soulful “I Wanna Be Your Boyfriend” cover for the smoking “Cold Turkey” they did five years ago. 

Yosei of Red Sneakers about to take the stage.

Afterwards, returning to the Rocket Science Audio van, we found that one of Red Sneakers’ drum sticks had flown over the fence and embedded itself into the earth. No one dared touch it. 

 

Red Sneakers drum stick, fully erect.

Buldgerz

Hardcore Memphis vets Buldgerz played a sweaty and confrontational set of hard and fast punk nuggets, followed by Mississippi’s Wild Emotions

The weather cooperated again the next day for a memorable afternoon show at Murphy’s. Two stages, one inside and one outside, alternated throughout the afternoon. 

Roy from Auckland, New Zealand’s Cool Runnings plays the indoor stage at Murphy’s under the old Antenna sign.

Goner Records co-owner Zach Ives sings with Sons Of Vom, as seen from the Rocket Science Audio webcast monitor.

There were many great performances on Saturday afternoon, but the most incredible was Weather Warlock, an experimental heavy noise act centered around a light-controlled synthesizer custom built by New Orleans’ mad genius Quintron. The cacuphony rose and fell as the light changed with the sunset, and Quintron and co-conspirator Gary Wong swirled around it with guitars and theremin, while a plume of smoke rose over the stage. 

Photographer Don Perry, AKA Bully Rook, dressed for Gonerfest.

Gonerfesters stumbled into the Hi Tone Saturday night, a little bleary from three days of rock, but with a lot of amazing music ahead of them. 

DJ Useless Eater keeps the crowd hopping at the Hi Tone.

Obnox

The highlight of the show for me was Nots. Fronted by steely-eyed, ex-Ex-Cult bassist Natalie Hoffman, the four piece arrived with something to prove. And prove it they did, with punishing, athletic songs delivered amid a shower of balloons and waves of reverb. 

The Nots, Charlotte Watson, Natalie Hoffman, Allie Eastburn, and Madison Farmer, backstage at the Hi Tone.

Austin, Texas No Wavers Spray Paint on the monitor Saturday night.

Detroit, Michigan’s Protomartyr on the Hi Tone stage.

English guitarist, songwriter, and ranter The Rebel delivers a solo set to a packed house.

Ken Highland and Rich Coffee of The Gizmos get bunny ears from their drummer after a celebratory closing set at Gonerfest 11.

The crowd, the largest I’ve ever seen at the Hi Tone, never flagged throughout the night, which ended with a reunion of The Gizmos, a seminal American band that developed something like punk in 1977 in the isolation of Bloomington, Indiana. The playing was loose, the mood buoyant, and the band vowed to not stay away for so long. And after a Gonerfest as great as this one, next year can’t come soon enough. 

[Ed Note: The first edition of this story incorrectly identified The Nerves “Hanging On The Telephone” as being written by Blondie.]

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Film Features Film/TV

“We Are the Best”

“Punk is dead, don’t you know that?”

That’s what the kids in school yell at Bobo (Mira Barkhammer) and Klara (Mira Grosin), the pair of misfit seventh grade girls in director Lukas Moodysson’s We Are The Best. Since the film is set in 1983 Stockholm, Sweden, we, the audience, know that Bobo and Klara are right and their schoolyard taunters are wrong. Punk would die and be reborn many times in the next 30 years. But from the girls’ perspective, sitting in a freshly scrubbed, urban social democracy, surrounded by cookie cutter normals and sneering metalheads, it looks true. But that doesn’t stop them from picking up the punk mantel and doing their self-imposed duty of keeping the music, and the attitude, alive.

The film opens on Bobo’s divorced mother’s 40th birthday party. In true punk fashion, everyone around her is having fun but Bobo, a pouty, plain-looking 14-year-old in frail round glasses whom, everyone notes, has just cut her hair short. She just wants to be left alone in her room to listen to her favorite bands, like Mongo and the Incest Brothers.

Bobo’s bestie Klara, on the other hand, has both parents and a set of brothers and sisters who bicker and argue constantly. Klara has gone a little further down the punk path, already sporting a mohawk and an inherited record collection courtesy of her older brother, Linus (Charlie Falk) a former punk who views his little sister’s rebellion with a combination of wry amusement and loving, not-quite condescension.

We Are the Best’s three terrific, first-time actors.

Linus’ view of the girls most closely resembles Moodysson’s take on the story, which is an adaptation of his wife’s graphic novel memoir Never Goodnight. Barkhammer and Grosin give tremendous performances, especially considering they are both first-time actors. But Moodysson maintains a safe distance, visualizing their world not as they see it, but as we see it looking back from the 21st century. When someone asks Klara what her band’s one song “Hate Sport” is about, she answers “We hate sports, and we want others to hate it as well.” It’s a laugh line, but it’s delivered with the same deadpan Scandinavian earnestness as her answer to the next question, “What is punk about?”

“Standing up for the weak.”

Klara and Bobo’s band starts almost by accident. While building a “nuclear meltdown” sculpture for an art class, they are bullied by a bunch of older boys in a metal band named Iron Fist. But when they discover that Iron Fist has neglected to sign up on the calendar for the youth center practice space, they hijack their practice by claiming to have a band of their own. It’s the first of many off-the-cuff poses that slowly turn into reality for the girls. They’re turned down for the school’s fall talent show, but when they see a talented young guitarist named Hedvig (Liv LeMoyne, another first timer) they decide to recruit her into the band, despite the fact that she is a straight-laced Christian. Hedvig accepts their invitation (“I hate sports too!” she says before teaching them to sing the song in key.), but the culture clash with her devout family is more profound than either Bobo’s or Klara’s. When they attempt to play a song called “Hang God,” Klara calmly explains to Hedvig that “It’s a Christian song. If he didn’t exist, you couldn’t hang him.”

The plot arcs through some familiar territory, as the girls learn to play together in the band, confront their philosophical differences, and fight over a boy in another punk band (whose one song is called “Reagan/Breshnev”) on their way to a climactic appearance at Santa Rock where they once again confront their nemesis Iron Fist. But it’s the details of the journey that matter in this good-natured film. Bobo, Klara, and Hedwig’s story of Sweden’s finest teenage girl punk band will feel universal to everyone who has ever set out to prove that punk won’t die on their watch.

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Sing All Kinds We Recommend

Meltdown in Midtown: Punk Rock’s Post Valentine’s Blowout

The Post Valentine’s Day Massacre brings Pezz, Random Conflict, Sin City Scoundrels, and Dawn Patrol to the Young Avenue Deli on Saturday the 15th. This would be a great time to break your nose and/or collarbone in the pit. Scared? Pfff. 

Pezz:

Meltdown in Midtown: Punk Rock’ Post Valentine’s Blowout

Random Conflict:

Meltdown in Midtown: Punk Rock’ Post Valentine’s Blowout (2)

Sin City Scoundrels (the intro to this video is priceless on several levels.)

Meltdown in Midtown: Punk Rock’ Post Valentine’s Blowout (3)

Dawn Patrol

Meltdown in Midtown: Punk Rock’ Post Valentine’s Blowout (4)

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Sing All Kinds We Recommend

Sound Advice: Santy Bringing Metal to the Hi-Tone 12/25!

Spend Christmas Eve with your mama and your greasy granny. They raised you. But by Christmas night, you’re gonna need a pound or two of hot metal. Hi-Tone is ready to pour a vat of molten XMAS steel all over your fancy sweater with Tanks and Heavy Eyes. You’ve earned this. Merry Christmas, pal.