Dead Boys

Before the Sex Pistols outraged puritanical Britain with blasts of sonic blasphemy and more; before the Ramones  planted the banner of punk in the putrid pulp of the Big Apple; before Richard Hell, Tom Verlaine and David Byrne laid the foundations of new wave on the rot of Bowery Street. Before all of this, precisely in 1974 in Cleveland, there were the legendary Rocket From The Tombs.

In the historical landscape of rock, more than just a flash in the pan, Rocket From The Tombs were a genuine alien meteorite, fallen - by some inscrutable twist of fate - onto the desolate plains of Ohio. There, the Stooges were playing at being Dadaists, while the Deviants were having a ball with the New York Dolls. Too good to last, and indeed it didn't. Not even a year in and Rocket From The Tombs were no more, but there's no point arguing with history, because fate decreed that, once this great band died, two even greater ones would rise from its ashes: Pere Ubu and Dead Boys. If the former would represent new wave's arty wing, the latter would become the standard-bearers of American punk. David Thomas and Peter Laughner on one side, Cheetah Chrome and Johnny Blitz (born John Madansky) on the other.

The last two (respectively the band's guitarist and drummer), in 1976, recruited the other guitarist Jimmy Zero, bassist Jeff Magnum, and above all the histrionic vocalist Stiv Bators, and left inhospitable Ohio to head straight for New York. The legendary CBGB's club was an obligatory stop for every budding punk, and it was in that seedy dive that the five began to make a name for themselves (and within the scene) under the moniker Dead Boys. "Dead Boys", a name that promised nothing good, but suited perfectly those who were about to channel into a single scream all the rage, nihilism and destructive libido of a year that would mark an era unto itself: 1977. Sire believed in them, giving them the chance to record a debut LP, produced by the Polish-born riot-girl Genya Ravan.

"Young, Loud And Snotty" is less an album title than their calling card. But they were also original interpreters of a raw, incendiary sound, newly born and destined to die fast, only to rise again shortly after in that unusual Easter they would come to call hardcore.

Unlike their fellow class-of-'77 peers, the Dead Boys don't banish solos and instrumental passages but - unusual for a punk band - actually revel in them, making them more abrasive, scathing and ferocious than ever. In short: wild and raw, but with class. Credit goes to Cheetah Chrome, a minimal, powerful, brutish guitarist as the punk script demands, but also pyrotechnic and inventive when needed, to the point of sketching passages that border on the most lyrical metal. It's no coincidence that the peak of his style is the superb "Not Anymore", where his blistering solo runs - which also brand the epic roar of "High Tension Wire" and the toxic rock'n'roll of "Caught With The Meat In Your Mouth" - intertwine with Jimmy Zero's grim arpeggios.

Still, the masterpiece destined for the history books is "Sonic Reducer", one of punk's defining anthems: an urban war cry with iconoclastic lyrics ("I don't need anyone/ don't need no mom and dad/ don't need no pretty face/ don't need no human race") that had actually already been part of the Rocket From The Tombs repertoire, alongside the obscene "What Love Is". Don't be fooled by the title, though, because the song's lyrics are as romantic as the most depraved thoughts of a homicidal maniac: "I want to write on your face with my pretty knife; I want to play with your precious life; I want to know what love is". The indecencies certainly don't end there, since "I Need Lunch" is still to come, a genuine affront to women's dignity. If it were a film, it would be one of the worst porn flicks. Scandalous live performances followed, with a perpetually out-of-control Bators completing the picture of depravity.

After all, punk was also, and above all, provocation, situationist gesture, unrestrained expressiveness, extremism of every kind. The Dead Boys embodied it impeccably, sowing seeds that, over time, bore fruit: the ferocity of "Ain't Nothin' To Do" would serve as a lesson to Darby Crash, the distorted harmonies of "All This And More" already foreshadow "Nevermind", while the electric scrap-metal clatter closing "Down In Flames" anticipates typically noise dissonances.

One is led to think, however, that questions of style never much interested the Dead Boys, who were probably only interested in playing, having fun and raising hell. Only Bators would continue down this path: after following up this debut with "We Have Come For Your Children", he joined Brian James of the Damned and Dave Tregunna of Sham 69 in a new project called Lords Of The New Church, which came to an end in 1989, shortly before death presented him with the bill on a Paris street. For their part, Chrome and Blitz, after years of anonymity, have recently dusted off the historic Rocket From The Tombs name together with David Thomas: they may not be young anymore, but they can still claw!

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31/03/2012