Live Fast, Play Hard, Die Young

Live Fast, Play Hard, Die Young

 

The Inimitable Mr. Scott

June 16th will mark the 31st anniversary of the passing of a great but unsung guitar hero, James Honeyman Scott. His now commonplace, but nonetheless mind-blowing riffs, a la "Tattooed Love Boys", which The Edge now rips out on many U2 albums, began with some off-the-cuff and ballsy playing by Mr. Scott. There is Jimmy Scott’s ringing jangle in "Kid", which Johnny Marr used as warm-up material. When first recorded in 1979, Mr. Scott’s work was both innovative and ground-breaking. "Back on the Chain Gang", worked on during sound checks during Jim’s life, was subsequently recorded after Mr. Scott’s death from heart failure brought on by cocaine intolerance in 1982, at the tender age of twenty-five. The song has the jangle and lightness typical of Jimmy Scott’s work, a deceptive easy melody that belies a clever way with chords and an uncanny, almost instinctive, awareness of which notes blend together to give a song a magical touch. In "Mystery Achievement", for example, Jim could have taken a ten minute solo at the break. He could have made the song more about his own skills and abilities, he could have set out to simply impress the crowd with his skills, taken a decent song and turned into a showpiece for his guitar virtuoso, as done many times by his friend Eddie Van Halen, and other artists like the Allman Brother or Eric Clapton. Instead, Jim played for the song, often giving an unusual and unexpected solo, like the country-tinged masterpiece in "Kid" (a song which he arranged, although all writing credit went to Chrissie Hynde) or the dive bomb at the end of "Day after Day". Jimmy Scott’s talent has been acknowledged by Rock legends as diverse as Elvis Costello to Jackson Browne, who wrote "For a Rocker" to Mr. Scott after his death.

 Pretenders’ fan come in two varieties- those who think that Chrissie Hynde rules the roost, that all songs are her sole brain child, and that any musician standing behind her is just that, a musician who backs up her genius, and who merely follows her lead and makes her magic come alive according to her directives. They are second bananas, nothing more. Other fans think that undoubtedly Ms. Hynde is vastly talented, but that her greatest work came during Jim Scott’s all too short tenure with the band. I am of the second variety of Pretenders’ fan. The first two albums, Pretenders I & II, along with an EP released between the two albums in 1981, are brilliant pieces of musicianship, and to my mind, the magical brain child of Ms. Hynde’s biting lyrics and Jimmy Scott’s inherent musical talent. If you listen to the first two albums, you hear something that was a cross between the Punk Movement, of which Ms. Hynde was a member of good standing, and the pure pop cleverness of ABBA or the Beach Boys, of whom Mr. Scott was a devoted fan, even playing with the band in May of 1982, weeks before his death.

  Ms. Hynde went on, after Jimmy Scott’s death, to produce excellent songs, but to me and to fans of the original Pretenders’ line-up, her later work like "Stand by Me" lacked the oomph and the innovative qualities of "The Adultress" or "The Phone Call". It was fairly run of the mill classic rock radio fare, but not ground-breaking and certainly not reminiscent of the angry Punk that marked Ms. Hynde’s early years in the record business. Jim took Ms. Hynde’s lyrics and gave them a twist, an unexpected drive and rhythm that matched her snarling vocals note for note. In a 1981 Guitar Player interview, Jim recalls the early days of the band, where they rehearsed "day and night", and of how he took Ms. Hynde’s punk sensibilities and added melody. "Up the Neck" started as a reggae song until Jim suggested that the band speed up the song, and then added its distinctive riffs along the way, making it the iconic song loved by Pretenders’ fans today, thirty-odd years on. His music has withstood the test of time, and has not become dated or passé. Ms. Hynde has given Jim his due, calling him her "right-hand man" (although I respectfully insist that their hands were intertwined), and acknowledged that he "brought out the melody in me". Indeed, Ms. Hynde has stated that Jimmy Scott "was the Pretenders’ sound". And he took that sound with him to his early grave, as he walked with eye wide open into the most clichéd Rock ending of all, a drug overdose, leaving the band decimated and lacking his eye for placing the right riff in the right place. The abundant cocaine, free-loving groupies, exotic travel, endless parties galore and high-profile celebrity friends from the Canyon are the right of any up and coming Rock legend, and the pretty model wife seems de rigueur as well, but in the end, dying at twenty-five in some strange girl’s flat has no glory, and rings hollow to me.

 Jimmy Scott grew up in Hereford, England and taught himself guitar at an early age. His mother played Church standards on the piano every Sunday and Jim was graced with a year or so of piano lessons, of which he learned to play by ear to "fool the piano teacher". He was a natural talent, not the type that spent hours poring over chords, and was playing in 1974 with Verden Allen of Mott the Hoople fame in a local band, The Cheeks, when most of us were trying to get a date to the prom. He was recognized as an equal by axe men as legendary as Nils Lofgren, Bruce Springsteen and Pete Townshend, who was set to produce what would later become Learning to Crawl before Jimmy’s untimely passing, and given one of Pete’s Rickenbackers before his death. The tragedy of Jimmy Scott’s passing, aside from his young age, was the talent lost, and the possibilities left unfulfilled. What would the third Pretenders’ album have sounded like if Jimmy had lived to infuse it with his talent? Songs like "Back on the Chain Gang" remain to tantalize, and live clips found on the Pirate Radio DVD serve to immortalize his live playing style, which was more free and wild than the stylized vinyl recordings. Jim left behind a short body of work which has almost been forgotten by most mainstream music magazines, leaving a few die-hard followers on Rickenbacker, Zemaitis or Hamer guitar forums. A shame, to have such a raw and fearless player tossed to the waste heap of has-beens and never-weres. Ms. Hynde has built her reputation on Jimmy Scott’s often uncredited musical instincts, as he told her to keep her songs for herself and never clamored for the royalties that come with getting your John Hancock on a popular song. A modest man, which is a rarity in the world of over-inflated and pampered Rock and Roll egos. On June 16th, I'll blast "Tattooed Love Boys" and have a tall one for James Honeyman Scott.  

Troubles with Townshend

 

 

Townshend Tarnished

There can be no denying the fact that Pete Townshend has carved himself out a large and prestigious place at the table of Rock and Roll Legends, both past and present. His song-writing capabilities are of course well-known, from the rock masterpiece Tommy to the generation-defining Quadrophenia, from his solo work with Empty Glass to All the Best Cowboys Have Chinese Eyes. Pete can write and arrange musical notes with the best of them, and he expresses the anguish of the teenaged soul better than most, if not all, of his contemporaries. He set the tone for a generation of Mods in the United Kingdom, while an endless flock of rock journalists tried their hand at analyzing his talent.

One of my all-time favorite songs, period, let alone one of my favorite The Who songs, is Real Good Looking Boy. With an introduction of Elvis Presley's I Can't Help Falling in Love With You, this song is a haunting tribute to love; but this being Pete Townshend, the love in this song is not the sugary-sweet, pre-teen girlish Katy Perry or Taylor Swift kind of love- it is not, by a long shot, the fairy tale version of love. It is rather a twisted take on motherly love; it's motherly love,  if your mother could double as the stand-in for the evil stepmother from Cinderella at a Disney Parade. Not many mothers tell their sons that they're ugly, and if having your mother tell you that you're the epitome of the Ugly Swan is not enough to shatter your budding self-confidence, than maybe knowing that a history of mental illness deeply runs through the family's genes will. to me, this song combines love and broken spirits, all set to an achingly beautiful melody. Truly, this is a classic song. Here's Townshend's motivation for writing Real Good Looking Boy:
    "Real Good Looking Boy is a song I wrote quite a few years ago about two young men who worry about their looks. One of them, based on me - hopes and believes he might look like his best friend who is a conventionally handsome fellow. (He is disavowed of this notion by his mother). The second, based on Roger - hopes and believes he will one day turn out to be like the young Elvis. (He, more happily, sees part of his dream come true). They both find love in later life." - Pete Townshend

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=aNP2jxAdpk8

Townshend always has been a beautiful man to me, not only in his physical appearance, but also in the intellect and humanity that shines through in his songs. His interviews are blunt, open and thought-provoking. He doesn't hide from the press behind meek protestations of personal privacy (but keep those royalty checks coming, fans!), he doesn't bend at the knee to the press, and he is smart enough to entertain not only on stage, but also in print. Townshend has been up front about his short-comings as a father and as a husband, while his body of work speaks freely of the struggles that all adults face within a marriage and, in fact, within any adult relationship. Like Joe Strummer (whom I've written about earlier), Pete could transition from Teenaged Hero, expressing the dream of the under 30 set to never grow old, to an adult man, with adult problems and concerns, without loosing his integrity as an artist (i.e. producing crap) along the way, just to put out a Number One record and keep the record company execs happy. The muse never seems to have left him.

There is one instance which makes me question Townshend's integrity, and one in which I really wish that he had hired a good publicist and let the hired hand do the talking. I wish that Townshend never had to engage the press in his legal troubles over porn, child porn to be exact. Townshend, who in the past openly and bravely wrote about his childhood demons, about the sexual abuse that he faced as a boy and his generally troubled childhood,  recently stumbled into the unthinkable- claims that he visited websites promoting child pornography. Why? Why would Pete Townshend of the Who view kiddie porn? So many women, and men I might add, would willingly fall to Townshend's feet. Willing and able The Who groupies abound. Townshend claims that he was visiting these sites while researching a book, which may be true in and of itself, but still is not a perfect answer. I write here in this blog about Pete Townshend, but the Internet being what it is, I have no need to actually speak to Townshend himself to write this piece, although it admittedly would be nice. But talking to Pete Townshend for a blog is not exactly at the same level as looking at child pornography, in terms of researching material. One is a dream come true and innocuous, the other is rehensible and illegal. I actually have trouble reconciling the Artist Pete Townshend, a man who can express the beauty found in Real Good Looking Boy, to the adult man accused of paying for and habitually viewing websites promoting the sexual exploitation of children. Can one be seperated from the other, can the artist be seperated from the flaws of the man?  Is there redemption for the troubled artist, or does the act refute the beauty of his work? What do you think?

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=dBDmpfnkFfQ

Let's Spend the Night Together

http://www.facebook.com/#!/JamesHoneymanScott

Back on the Chain Gang by the Pretenders popped up on the radio today, which made me think about the late and great, but sorely under-rated, James Honeyman Scott. Though Back on the Chain Gang technically was not recorded by Mr. Honeyman Scott, it has been written on guitar aficionado forums that he worked on the song during sound checks. Indeed, the guitar work in the song,though laid down in the studio by Billy Bremner, has often been credited with possessing Honeyman Scott's distinctive jangle and originality. Whether the guitar lines in the song were fully or partially written by Jimmy Scott has never been addressed by the Pretenders' front woman Chrissie Hynde. So fans may never know the full extent of JHS' contribution to the song. However, Ms. Hynde did dedicate Back on the Chain Gang to Jimmy Scott's memory, as he died just a few short weeks before the band was to enter the recording studio to begin work on this song.
 

 

When you read about Jimmy Scott, as his friend Ms. Hynde refers to him in interviews, he is often associated with the typical Rock and Roll lifestyle of Sex and Drugs, which isn't a shock considering that he died in 1982 at the age of 25, from heart failure induced by cocaine intolerance. He apparently lived fast and unfortunately died young, leaving behind only two full LPs, and a mini album of only 5 songs, one of which was a live cut previously released on the first album. What is it about the Rock and Roll lifestyle that chews up young talent, and then spits them out either six feet under, or looking as if they had one foot in the grave and the other still left behind on stage, much along the lines, pardon the pun, of Keith Richards? Death warmed over could easily describe Kef and his partner in crime, Ronnie Wood.

Of course, any young and hormonally unbalanced man(or woman)would want to be surrounded by young and beautiful models, or wanna-be actresses. And let's face it, pretty woman go well on your arm whilst casually strolling into the hottest and most fabulous Hollywood party. Certainly, the best drug dealers must vie for the attention and business of suddenly popular and suddenly wealthy guitarists, who may have struggled for years without two pennies in their pockets to rub together, but with a hit song or two, magically have enough jangle in their wallet to buy the best cars, classiest guitars and finest blow. Jimmy Scott, by all accounts, stuck to the formula, and married an aspiring actress. He was in good company naturally, as Rod Stewart, Ronnie Wood, Mick Jagger and even Kef himself all walked down the isle with models or actresses.

Modeling and acting are glamorous jobs. There have been countless girls, the prettiest girls on their hometown cheerleading squad, the Homecoming Queen, or even the Ms. Dream Girl contestant of their Mid-Western town, who have stars in their eyes as they board that Greyhound bus for LA. In their minds, it's only a hop, skip and a jump until their names are on the Hollywood Walk of Fame. But if you don't get call-backs in Hollywood, if you haven't hit the right director's couch, you'll have to fall back to Plan B. You,as the prettiest girl in town, can model while you wait for your Big Break. From there, you can use your connections to get a backstage pass.

If you can catch the young and upcoming guitarist with enough buzz, you can find, if not your own fame, at least fortune and fun. You can be rich and famous by association.  Anita Pallenburg may be more famous as Mrs. Richards than she was as Ms. Pallenburg, and this route to having your name known by every jealous groupie throughout the world, will serve you well. You can later write a book about your time with your famous musician, and you can later upgrade to another famous musician, if things don't work out with the first. Doors have been opened. At the very worst, you can collect alimony and live out your wealthy dreams of Happily Ever After, maybe not famous in your own right or with your own name in lights, but still at the finest of Hollywood parties, and with the best drug dealers at your beck and call.
 

 I've decided to turn back to simpler times, when women rocked without grabbing their crotch, a la Miley Cyrus, and men used more hairspray than AquaNet could produce. Not to mention how much eyeliner a good Hair Band could go through in one night's performance. Yes, let's talk 80s rock icons, or at least the ones who mattered to me at the time.

I was always a big Pretenders' fan. Chrissie Hynde could drink any man under the table, and she she proved in 1980 when she was arrested for drunkenly and disorderly conduct after a little disturbance in a Memphis TGIF restaurant. She could swear like a sailor, which is always a plus, especially when throwing a few choice curse words into your songs, as she did in 'Precious'. On the Pretenders' first album cover, she stood with her band, in a red leather jacket and black lace gloves (like Madonna was wearing at the time), which was a pure revelation. It was as if Madonna had suddenly skipped her nightly outing to a NYC dance club, and made instead a bee line for the local Hell's Angel Chapter. The songs were not to be messed with, either- 'Tattooed Love Boys', who had ever heard of women speaking so bluntly, so straight-forwardly, of sex with strange men? Her songs did not follow the Disney Princess version of Happily Ever After, where a girl diligently waits to be swept away by her Prince Charming, passively sitting by the phone, trying to get a date for the damn prom. No, it was not Disney Love, or even love with a capital "L". Hynde's love was down and dirty, it was unashamed sex. It was the kind of love that she sang about in 'Precious', one where you do it on the pavement and then tell the guy to F*** OFF. Instantaneous freedom, for young girls who were frankly tired of playing by the rules that young girls were supposed to follow during the late 60s and early 70s.

Part of the pleasure of the Pretenders' early music was James Honeyman Scott. What a name to grow into! What kind of profession can you choose with a name like James Honeyman Scott, other than Rock Star, Writer or Actor. Maybe you can become a professional wrestler with a larger than life name like James Honeyman Scott. Certainly, more mundane jobs like accounting and booking-keeping were out. And what a guitarist Honeyman Scott turned out to be- the licks and grooves on the Pretenders' first album were deadly. They met Hynde's voice note for note, pushing her, it seemed, to greater and more melodic vocal heights. Hynde has subsequently called Honeyman Scott her musical right-hand man, and indeed the music that he produced on the Pretenders' first and second albums give proof to his unique musical talents. He created hooks that had not been heard before, but they have become commonplace since, in the guitar work of Johnny Marr or The Edge. His death in 1982, of a cocaine intolerance, cheated the world of a young and bright musician, still in his musical prime. It also robbed Hynde of her partner in crime, her much-valued hook man and the partner who sent a fresh breathe of air through her songs.

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