I love this record. It is an exercise in the pure simplicity of the excitement that is rock n' roll.
The house was such a mess this morning, but this slab on the turntable really gets me moving. I don't think Johnny, Joey, Dee Dee and Marky had housekeeping in mind when they recorded songs like "Now I Wanna Sniff Some Glue", but what can I say, it works. Plus, this album is apparently very good blast-around-the-house-in-your-pajamas music if you happen to be a 2 year old boy.
Unlike many people who fell in love with punk, I didn't find it until my 20's. I got real into for a good few years and then, like any sensible grow-up, outgrew it. It did teach me one important lesson, though: the true beauty of art that is raw, visceral, quick and insistent. Few things are as exhilarating when they really reach you. I intend to teach the boy and his sister that lesson someday when they're old enough. Hopefully I can pull it off without embarrassing them too much, though that's unlikely.
Anyway, this record sent me digging in the closet as well. Our coat closet is deep, with two poles, one behind the other. On the deeper of the two, behind my Barbour, Chesterfield topcoat and Burberry Macintosh, I still keep this old thing:My old leather jacket, lining shredded to pieces, threads hanging all over the place. Ironically enough, it's on a hanger from Simon's Copley Square.
On the back, the name of my old band. I painted it myself, and I did the other guys jackets, too. Very "Lords of Flatbush" (man, you should have seen my pompadour! I'll try to find a good photo to scan), and very goofy, but when we showed up to a gig out of town, we really looked like a band.
This blog is mostly about clothes, and frequently discussions arise about American men's traditional clothing. I'm going to be bold and say that the combination of black leather jacket, jeans and canvas sneakers is as traditional as anything. It may be the look of rebellion, but the "bad kids" invented it sixty years ago and its changed very little since, if at all. Its a look that is distinctly American and timeless, not unlike the blazer and button down.
Though I will almost certainly never wear it again, I will never get rid of this jacket. My grandfather had his old army uniform , and I have this, one last reminder of who I was and where I am coming from...well, this jacket and the records, which are still worth a listen sometimes.
Someday, if you ask nice, I'll show you my tattoos.