The Godfathers of Punk: The Ramones

I flunked high school Algebra, and I like to believe that it was an unfortunate scheduling conflict, most surely the fault of the high school administrators. The misfortune was that Algebra followed lunch, and lunch necessarily meant that my friends and I ditched school property to smoke pot and listen to Ramones records. I have never needed to know about coefficients and variables, and I surely don’t remember those Pre-Algebra cannabis days. But, I do remember the 80’s; a time of excess and oblivion; jocks and preps, mullets and Mohawks, new age and new wave, and the music that made up this era. And from these memories, Retro Radio is born, because really, that’s the magic of music. It’s a universal language that acts like a UN Ambassador between us all; rockers, punks, straight edge and 420 Friendly.

I landed on the punk side of the musical spectrum, and no punk collection would be complete without the Godfathers of punk; The Ramones.

For me, The Ramones are an interesting dilemma. They influenced the punk scene in the US and Europe, as few bands ever would or ever could. But their latter work, has literally been a Brain Drain; one which makes me hastily run down the path of nostalgia, to the early seventies when they were still giving us music that didn’t range from horrible to awful.

Let’s face it; by 1979, The Ramones albums had become tasteless, directionless, pointless and boring. I had accepted the fate that seems to befall all punkers; death by excess. The Ramones had sold out. And if there was even a small vestige of hope remaining, they killed it by giving us Road To Ruin, End of the Century, Subterranean Jungle, or the very worst; Too Tough to Die. For me it was the end of an era. I mourned the loss, neatly folding my Ramones shirts and tucking them into far crevices of my drawer, sending their posters to second hand stores; and relegating the once great punkers to the realm of, “I remember when” stories, that I would one day, tell my son.

Seriously, how could it get any worse? As if to answer that question, DeeDee left the band.

Then, like Moses parting the Red Sea or Clinton sucking, but not inhaling, something miraculous happened and that miracle was Mondo Bizarro, their twelfth studio album, in which Dee Dee had been replaced by CJ Ramone. CJ even gets a figurative high five on the tune It’s Gonna Be Alright, in which Joey sings; “I’m so glad CJ is here.” And I’m glad he was there too, because without CJ there would have been no bassist; and possibly no album. But would that have been a bad thing? The answer is yes. We, Ramones purists, needed to believe in punk again. We needed a decent conclusion to The Ramones catalogue. Mondo Bizarro may not exactly be the burning bush we craved, but, it was at least a fiery twig.

The opening track, Censorshit, removed all doubt that The Ramones had returned in full punk vengeance. The most interesting tunes were the ones in which The Ramones tried something new. Gone were the one sentence songs; they actually had something to say, at long last; which is what punk is about. It was music with a message. The songwriting was tighter; the chorus’ catchier. And, meaning no disrespect; Dee Dee wasn’t missed. My favorite? Melancholy and dark, lyrically strong and vocally impeccable; Anxiety. The chorus gets stuck in your head like those annoying deodorant commercials. And no matter how Little Miss Sunshine you are, you will find yourself humming; “Anxiety, anxiety makes me happy. Nothing’s right til it’s all wrong. Nothing makes sense until I’m tense…” I hear a Prozac jingle in the making.

Mondo Bizarro sounds like The Ramones on steroids; doing some of the old school stuff, heavier, harder and better. The Job That Ate My Brain and the Jim Morrison tune, Take It As It Comes, are lusty and filled with raw power, and I’m pretty sure the ghost of Morrison was in the studio, making sure they didn’t screw it up.

But the album is not perfect. While I like the sentiment of Touring, I hate the fact that it sounds like a Beach Boys tune.

Technically, Cabbies on Crack, might be the worst song on the album. It’s disjointed, disharmonious and I’m certain that knowledgeable musicians can cite hundreds of other flaws in the tune. But after living in New York, I have come to discover that, roller coasters, bungee jumping, sky diving, even swimming with sharks, hold nothing on New York cab drivers. Even Joey saw his life flash before him in the backseat of a NYC cab. “Times Square was approaching–he braked for the light–at 90 mph,–I wanna get out–stomach in my mouth–I don’t wanna die before I live…”

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