John Holmstrom - The Godfather of PUNK
Scene Stories By John Holmstrom
Do you have a special memory that stands out about a place?
My favorite memory is of the New Fillmore East Theater, which was the
old Fillmore on 6th and 2nd Avenue for a few months in late 1974 to
early 1975. I was doing cartoon graphics and posters for them. I worked
for free but it was my first professional job in art. I was getting
published!!
On New Year’s Eve 1974-75, I was asked to help out the Pig Light Show,
which meant I got to hang out backstage. I even drew the countdown
graphics: “3… 2… 1… HAPPY NEW YEAR!” and all that. Since it was the New
Year, I felt like it was a new beginning, but actually, this was like
the death knell for the kind of music that used to bring the crowds to
the old Fillmore East.
It was a blast being backstage for the first time, and since Ike and
Tina were the main event, the place was packed. They were stiffed by the
promoter, though, which made for a tense situation, and they almost
didn’t go on. But they did, eventually, and agreed to do one show.
(Unfortunately, they sold tickets for two shows, so there were a lot off
pissed-off people waiting around in the freezing cold outside!)
There were several very attractive women working in the office, and one
night the owner took us all to New Jersey for a ski party – my first
introduction to sex, drugs and rock ‘n’ roll.
There were some nice shows there: Bachman Turner Overdrive, Roy Buchanen,
and a “glam night” with Teenage Lust and the Harlots of 42nd Street. But
there were too many empty seats, the place soon closed and the owner was
found dead about six months after that. He got to live his rock ‘n’ roll
dream, and be the new Bill Graham, but paid the ultimate price.
Do you have a special memory of a particular show?
My favorite show was the night The Damned and the Dead Boys shared a
bill at CBGB for a three-day weekend. It was the first-ever tour by an
English punk band, and The Dead Boys, managed by Hilly, had to defend
their turf. The music was amazing, since the two bands were playing
stuff from their first albums, which is as good as punk rock gets.
Every night the two bands harassed each other. They elevated the art of
heckling to a new level. They began by yelling and screaming at each
other between songs, then they’d throw stuff during the set, and at some
point physically disrupt the other band’s show. Throughout it all,
whoever was onstage just kept on playing. It was like the first mosh
pit. I heard it got so crazy that some of the Dead Boys broke into The
Damned’s hotel room, knocking down the door in the process, and were so
drunk that they passed out in the room shortly after.
You had two of the greatest bands at the peak of their powers driving
each other to their best on three consecutive nights. It was the
greatest weekend of punk rock ever at CBGB.
Anything funny, or unusual happen at this show, or another show you
did?
The weirdest memory I have was the night Elvis died. Joey Ramone and I
set up a photo shoot with Roberta Bayley for a “Teenage Lobotomy” image.
It was never used anywhere, but Joey had this idea that a cow brain,
served on a dinner plate, would be the perfect image for the song. After
the shoot we got drunk and brought the cow brains with us to CBGB.
That’s when deerfrance, who was working the door, told us that Elvis had
died. Well, we were already too drunk to think about it.
We proceeded to leave little bits of the brains all over the club — on
the stage, on the bar, etc. We thought it was hysterical, especially
when someone would notice it and get grossed out.
Any interesting stories about hanging out at Max's, (hahahaha EVERY
night something 'interesting' happening at Max's~that's a book in
itself)
By the time I began hanging out there in 1976, it was past its heyday. I
remember when the upstairs turned into a disco for a short time in
1975-76, and I visited it. It was like Saturday Night Fever – upstairs
at Max’s? Thankfully it didn’t last long.
It was a bit scary, since CBGB was almost the last club left in the
city. Thankfully, Max’s soon reopened as a rock club again, and I think
an untold story is how the rivalry between the two clubs for dominance
over the rock scene from 1976-1979 really fueled the NYC music scene as
much as anything else.
My favorite night there was the time we brought Lester Bangs to see the
Ramones in early 1976. Lester had seen Television and Patti Smith and
was very disappointed, since he expected the NYC punk rock scene to be
Stooges redux. We kept insisting that he had to see the Ramones to
understand New York ciy punk rock, and how Patti Smith and Television
weren’t really punk (anymore). Let’s face it, in 1976, there just
weren’t many true punk bands in the whole world. The Ramones and
Dictators were about all we had in NYC, and Lester was already
acquainted with the Dics. So we took him to Max’s, got famously (too)
drunk (The Aquarian wrote about us a few months later, apparently we
were a spectacle), and Lester reluctantly admitted that the Ramones were
“okay.” They “weren’t bad.”
Years later, I read that Lester “helped to discover” the Ramones.
Right.
Anyhow, that honor should belong to Lisa Robinson and James Wolcott. She
wrote about them in Creem and he wrote about them in the Voice in 1975,
which inspired me to go see them, which resulted in starting up Punk
magazine. Lester never really even liked them.
Tell me about the scene as a whole...
New York City has always been an important place for music, from the
jazz scene to 1950’s doo-wop through the hippie scene, then on to punk
rock, new wave and hip-hop. But for some strange reason, the punk rock
scene is viewed as the “Golden Age” of live music in New York (even
though there were just a handful of clubs supporting the music back
then).
I tend to think of the whole punk rock thing as a sociological
phenomenon. I think that most of us early punks (now they call us “proto
punks, as if we were Cro-Magnons) were ex-teeny-boppers, pissed off that
the hippie party ended before we got to join the fun. Most of us had
dysfunctional parents who were warped by the second World War. I think
many of us were unusually bright, since the education system was much
better back then, but as ex-hippies we weren’t interested in joining
“the system,” but on the other hand the hippie scene was dying. So we
had to start something new. CBGB became the laboratory — a place where
we could live outside mainstream culture and experiment. I didn’t know
anyone when I started Punk magazine, but we were instantly accepted by
most people in the scene – notably Blondie and the Ramones.
People were really crazy back then. That crazy Bradley guy (who
eventually joined Teenage Jesus) would just bite people instead of
saying hello. Lydia Lunch was a Dead Boys groupie who would actually
give head to Stiv while he was onstage. When Klaus Nomi showed up, he
just seemed like another interesting person. But for all the antics, it
was all very discreet. I never (well, rarely) saw anyone take hard drugs
or have sex in public.
I remember that once in a while, a yuppie type would crash the party. In
particular, I remember a summer night in 1977, when some drunken Wall
Streeter challenged me to a bet and meet him in six months “because this
place won’t be around then.” We made the bet, but I never collected. Of
course, I never saw him again!
New York City was an amazing place in the late 1960s, 1970s and even the
1980s when the hardcore scene began. Obviously, it was too good to last.
I am very glad that, due to our rent stabilization laws, I somehow have
been able to afford to stay here, even though the club scene has gone to
Hell. (Not Richard Hell, the other place: NYU!)
Image : villager.com
Thanks John, we wanna thank you for your
time and effort writing for us...it's an honor to have you with us as
part of our max's kansas city special. Chris