
by
Gene Mahoney
April
2003 - Well, boys and girls -- it’s another beautiful evening
here in, what Channel 5 News refers to as, the best place on Earth; the San
Francisco Bay Area.
I’m typing away here on my Stone Age piece-of-shit Macintosh Quadra
700 computer with a bitchin’ Magnavox Professional Mac Color Display
monitor. Right now I’m drinking a can of Foster’s lager and listening
to a great, sad to say -- almost forgotten, band from a quarter century ago
-- The Jam.
As I type this, memories of New York are coming back to me. Not the New York
you may be thinking of. Not of Ground Zero. Not of the Empire State Building.
Not of The Great White Way. Not of Rockefeller Center. Not of Greenwich Village.
Not of Radio City Music Hall. Not of Yankee Stadium. Not of... okay, you get
the point.
No, kids. The New York I’m remembering isn’t New York City, The
Greatest City in the World: the city of my birth. The New York I’m thinking
of is of a much smaller city. A town on Long Island, as I recall, which was
filled with trees standing, flowers blooming, squirrels fornicating --- the
usual serene suburban landscape(except for the Guidos with slicked-back hair
and gold chains driving around in Camaros which kind of ruined everything).
Yes, the town of my upbringing was a much smaller town than the town of my
birth.
So, you may be asking --- why is drinking Australian beer (Foster’s)
and listening to an old New Wave band from England (The Jam) reminding you
of New York?
Well, folks... the New York I’m remembering is a room in a house. A
house in my small suburban town, about 50 minutes from Penn Station during
rush hour. A room in a house where, 20 years ago, an alienated, confused high
school kid named Gene Mahoney used to live, and lose himself, in a world of
music, listening to The Police, U2, The Clash, and... The Jam!
Okay, enough of this sappy melodrama already. I’m gonna puke. Jeeez.
I had to go through that spiel and waste all that valuable space just to get
a free CD from Interscope Records?
I guess I did, and the CD I got is called The Sound of The Jam. Man, next
time I’ll just shell out the money.
But seriously, folks, I used to really dig The Jam and I highly recommend
The Sound of The Jam. The Jam were part of the punk explosion in ‘77,
dressing up in cheap black suits and skinny black ties (ala mod bands from
the ‘60’s like The Who) and playing great tunes which mellowed
and became more melodic with each album, until their breakup in 1982.
The Jam were an enormous band in England, and they managed a big cult following
in America during their pithy 5 year run. The star of the band, Paul Weller,
went on to start another successful, more soul-influenced group called The
Style Council, and has a new solo album out now. Bruce Foxton was a hell of
a bass player, who had great hair, and joined one of the oldest living original
punk bands, Stiff Little Fingers, a few years ago. Rick Buckler continued
to play drums for other bands after The Jam called it quits. I don’t
know what he’s doing now. Maybe driving a cab.
So you older readers who like the Beatles, get The Sound of The Jam. You younger
readers who like Oasis, get The Sound of The Jam. There, I earned my free
CD.
I managed to get another free CD from Interscope Records by promising a free
plug for it (like this one needs it). It’s from a band called U2 (I
don’t know if you’ve heard of them) and it’s called TheBest
Of 1990 - 2000, featuring hits like Beautiful Day, One, Staring at the Sun,
Numb and a new song I love called Electrical Storm. Actually, it’s been
out for a while now. I’m playing it now as I type this. These are their
more recent songs, but if I was listening to their first record, Boy, or their
second record, October, or their third record, War, I would be thinking of
New York. Well, you may be asking, why is an old New Wave band from Ireland
reminding you of New York?
Well, folks... the New York I’m remembering is a room in a house. A
house in my small suburban town, about 50 minutes from Penn Station during
rush hour. A room in a house where, 20 years ago, an alienated, confused high
school kid named Gene Mahoney, used to live, and lose himself, in a world
of music, listening to The Police, The Jam, The Clash and... U2!
I remember the first time I heard of U2. I think I was in tenth grade. It
was a short article in Rolling Stone titled U2: The Next Big Thing? I guess
they were right. Talk about marketing. I remember hearing great bands like
Simple Minds and others and thinking, They’re great, but hey -- they’re
not as good as U2 -- because U2 is the next big thing. Then I saw U2 live,
in early 1982, at Nassau Community College on Long Island and Bono shook my
hand while he was singing, revival preacher style. They were great! I even
remember the opening act; some below mediocre Devo-wannabe New Wave band from
Manhattan called Prisoners of Beat, who had very little self-confidence.Opening
for an up and coming U2 probably didn’t do much to improve their self-esteem.
Anyway, get this CD from those nice Irish lads.
Another ‘80’s band, Berlin, has a (relatively) new CD out titled
Voyeur, and it is definitely worth buying. Heck, it’s one of the best
releases of 2002. Kimberlye Gold and myself got to see the lovely and talented
lead singer of this band, Terri Nunn, DJ at my old stomping grounds from the
late ‘80’s, the DNA Lounge on March 22nd. What a nice evening
that was. First, Kimberlye and I had dinner at Mary’s, which used to
be Harvey’s SoMa, and prior to that, Hamburger Mary’s (a San Francisco
institution).
Apparently it’s been sold to a new owner and is just plain
ol’ Mary’s now. A funky atmosphere with great food at very reasonable
prices is how I would describe the place (I highly recommend it). After Mary’s
we went to the DNA, and it was New Wave City (‘80’s Night) so
it really took me back. Although now that I’m in my late 30’s
instead of my early 20’s, some things that I used to get off on now
bugged me. Like the hip, alternative ATM machine there. While you punch in
your transaction the screen flashes these bullshit rebellious messages like
“Smash Capitalism”, right before you’re informed that the
machine charges a $3.00 transaction fee in addition to any fees your bank
may charge you.
Terri Nunn showed up at around 11 and started playing songs by bands like
Sisters of Mercy and some others I forgot. Do you know what the best part
of the whole evening was for me? Terri gets to the DJ booth, they announce
she’s there, and the first words out of her mouth are:
“Hi, everybody! I know it’s a tough time we’re going through
now. But let’s hope this is a short war and our soldiers will be home
soon!”
That took most people visibly off guard, who must have figured she was way
too cool to say something like that, but I thought it was great. How refreshing
to hear appreciation from a celebrity who knows the score. Who knows that
those regular guys from those small towns across America are protecting the
freedoms of smirking, wiseass, alternative clubgoers in hip cities like San
Francisco.
Kimberlye slipped a note to security that we would like to see her, and, gracious
as always, she let us into the DJ booth and gave us hugs, smiled, asked how
we were, told us we looked great, etc. etc. The Herald is approaching its
fifth anniversary in July and I just realized that Terri Nunn is the most-mentioned
celebrity in the history of the paper. Even more than George W. Bush, Bill
Clinton, and Keanu Reeves.
And here’s a little tribute to Terri by our own Lana Alattera:
Back when I was still a wee lass (in other words -- my teens), I was spending
time in group homes, squats and hotel rooms for a place to stay. I was part
of a grouping known then as the Powell St Punks. The family of gutter punks
and homeless who panhandled the tourists waiting for the cable cars and spent
most of our time in L-Alley around the corner, that is if you drank, the abandoned
Polytech High School, and Broadway or Farm shows along with little venues
-- like say the ones in old delis or basements. When there wasn’t a
show to go to, I spent many late nights at the floating clubs like Glashaus,
181, the Kabuki, Magic Club, Night Gallery, Zig Zags, Level Up, R.S.V.P, Deca-dance,
Gotham City, Metropolis etc, and the more stable Club 9 where they had performance
art rooms upstairs and the then-unknown Chris Isaak played acoustic downstairs.
Don’t ask how I got in the over 21 clubs in my mid teens as I’m
still not sure myself... Those were some amazing clubs back then (that was
before the raves). They were the exclusive clubs where you had to meet at
various spots throughout the night to finally get the right location because
they were trying to filter out the ‘undesirables’ and their locations
were always illegal. This later led to the trend of rave etiquette. Most of
the kids were rich artsy types and the rest were punks who attended them.
It was a good place to network, as back then the clubs were friendlier and
the rich kids would let whoever crash at their house afterwards, sometimes
for the weekend, sometimes the entire week.
So that is how I met my good friend Julie P., a young model who was already
a main feature in Vogue. These kids were so generous to us. So I fluctuated
between the glitter and the gutter. I was lucky they accepted me, but as I
said the club scene was pretension -free back then. There were very few ‘goths’
back then, some mods, but most were New Wave rich kids.
Julie P. it turns out was dating an older man back then. She wouldn’t
say who at first, but it turned out to be a member of Berlin. I was so fascinated
by the idea of her dating an older man. Especially when she was so sought
after and clubbing every night. Yet she remained true to him. She called him
at the same time every night to check in that she was OK. He mailed her hours
of audio tapes of him just speaking about his day, talking to his pets, recording
everything he was doing. Just so she could feel as if she was there with him,
in L.A. He loved her very much, he adored her. I finally got to meet him,
and he was very personable and real (it was John Crawford).
I was so envious. He sent her pictures everyday and most included photos of
the band in rehearsal or Terri Nunn. When I first got to see her up close,
she left me speechless as to her flawless, classic beauty. She looked unreal,
like a porcelain doll. She struck me as genuine and very intelligent.
I remember when I finally got a job in a record store just after I had become
really close to Julie. Within a few weeks of working there, they had hired
a boy, a very pretty and very New Wave boy. He had Terri’s hair. The
white with the black tips. I think his name was Joel. I befriended him quickly.
When we were discussing his hair one day at work, he confided in me something
he was a bit embarrassed of, though it was the show itself, not the performance.
He told me that he had his hair like Terri’s because he had just recently
done a Puttin’ on the Hits episode.
I don’t know if anyone remembers it but it was a fairly popular TV talent
show where you did karaoke, sometimes singing in your own voice, emulating
your favorite musicians. He had performed as Terri. I believe he lip-synced
to ‘The Metro’ but I can definitely say it wasn’t the song
‘Sex’ since it was a conservative program. That song’s lyrics
were brilliantly lascivious and yet considered deviant. I mean, men obviously
found it erotic but it seemed they were uncomfortable with a woman asserting
her sexuality like that. Especially a woman so big in the industry.
Joel had told me he only did the show because he wanted to prove what an extreme
fan he was of hers. The show gave him a copy of the airing but I don’t
think he won. I am assuming it was because of his gender bending on a family
oriented station. I thought he was great. I was hesitant to tell him my best
friend was close to the members of Berlin. So I discussed it with Jules. Jules
talked it over with Terri and she was so flattered she asked me to invite
him to her show in Concord at the time and to give him backstage passes. He
almost fainted when he heard the news. This woman he lived for. I wasn’t
sure if I should be afraid for her or excited for him. She was so good to
her fans she didn’t really worry about that sort of thing; stalkers
and such.
He went to her show, though sadly without me (I couldn’t make it due
to unforeseen circumstances) and she had invited him to spend time in her
trailer to watch his video tape of Puttin’ on the Hits. I had heard
she really took a liking to him and they talked for hours. He had told me
his dreams came true that night. They agreed to keep in touch. He said meeting
Terri let alone having her witness his performance of her was the happiest
day of his young life. That he could die happy after that. And I was never
so pleased with helping his dream come true. That was one of the fondest memories
I think I have from my teens.
She was and still is a goddess and one of the sexiest women to ever grace
us with her musical presence.
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Gene can be emailed here.