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As a teen growing up in Florida during the late 1970s, I was obsessed with such platinum-selling corporate hard rockin' 8-Track acts of the day as Kiss, Van Halen, Aerosmith and Ted Nugent. However, my high school surfer buddy Dave Fife, rarely settled (long) for rock's status quo and he was always looking ahead to what was coming next. And he was an amazing scholar when it came to educating me about a “New Wave” movement that was on the musical horizon.
Frequently, Dave would come over to my house after school and bring (vinyl)
records by what I perceived as odd and unknown bands – including, The Clash, Joe Jackson, The B-52s,
and Gary Numan. One day in early 1980, Dave played an album for me by an
underground group from New York. The band’s songs were fast, short, and sounded
like buzz saws. The lyrics were minimal and often rather tongue-in-cheek. But the strangest thing of
all was that there were NO guitar solos! The album was End of the Century,
the group was The Ramones, and my life was changed forever.
Containing such classic tracks as "Rock and Roll High School," Do You
Remember Rock and Roll Radio?," "Chinese Rock" and "I’m Affected,"
the End of the Century record grabbed my senses like aural cocaine.
From that moment I sought to buy every Ramones record – even their hard-to-find import
releases.
This was still a couple of years before
the arrival of MTV, so when The Ramones starred in the
full-length, feature motion picture, Rock and Roll High School,
it was a big deal. Hence, Dave and I religiously attended the weekend midnight showings of the movie at
our hometown theater/draft house in early 1980. With its quirky storyline, less than award-winning acting, and
amazing soundtrack, the film has since gone on to become a cult
classic.
July 29, 1981 was not only
the day that Prince Charles wed Princess Diana, but it was also the day when I
finally got to see The Ramones live in concert for the first time.
I had just graduated from high school a few weeks earlier and a couple of my pals,
Scott Amendolare and Pat Maier, wanted to “paint the town” at least once more
before heading off to college the following month. So we piled into Pat’s late
'60s, black Ford Mustang and made the ninety-minute journey from our beachside hood to a
nightclub called SPIT which was located just outside of
Orlando. At the time, we had only ever been to a handful of arena and stadium concerts so we were completely
surprised to discover an empty parking lot when we arrived at the club around
6:30pm. Had this been a typical “enormo-dome” concert, fans would have already
been lined up around the building. We quickly learned that club
shows were different from regular concert events. However,
this little rock and roll faux pas worked to our advantage.
It was a hot summer
day so we parked under a shade tree on the side of the club, pulled out a
couple of lawn chairs from the trunk of Pat’s car and tried to make the best of
what was to be a long wait before we could enter the club. Clearly naive
regarding the rock concert scene, we actually didn’t pay much attention to
the monstrous tour bus that just happened to be parked next to us.
Before long, we heard a
commotion coming from inside the club's rear exit. The next thing we
witnessed was the sight of bassist Dee Dee Ramone and drummer Marky Ramone
carrying a visibly “impaired” lead singer Joey Ramone from the club to the tour
bus. The band had apparently just finished their pre-show sound check and
were headed back to their hotel for a little R&R before their performance. It truly
mirrored a scene out of their movie. While Dee Dee and Marky struggled to
load Joey’s limp, semiconscious body onto the bus, guitarist Johnny Ramone
actually approached me and my two buddies.
“Hi, I’m Johnny. I play guitar,” he
announced as he shook my hand.
Little did he know that such introductions were completely unnecessary. This guy was THE Johnny Ramone and I was one of his biggest fans. I knew darn well who he was.
But before further pleasantries could be exchanged, a guy with a briefcase who I now assume was the band’s road manager singled me out. He had spotted the Ramones T-shirt that I was wearing and with considerable gusto, he articulated his disapproval.
“That shirt is a bootleg! It’s no good!” he scowled as he poked me in the chest. “You need a real one.”
I informed him that I’d happily take a “real one” if he happened to be giving them away but he seemingly was more concerned with getting the band members on the bus than listening to my smart alec comments.
Although the evening’s opening act Holly and the Italians were lame at best, The Ramones were, to say the least, intense. They played loud, fast and delivered a blistering set packed with one amazing, break-neck, two-minute song after another. I witnessed the show from what the kids today call “the pit.” It had to have been well over one hundred degrees up front where I was. In fact, I actually had difficulty breathing during most of the band’s set and my body was literally lifted off the ground more than once by the ocean-like movement of the almost riotous crowd. But I didn’t care. I figured that if I was gonna die at eighteen, being crushed to death at a Ramones concert would be a pretty cool way to go!
Little did he know that such introductions were completely unnecessary. This guy was THE Johnny Ramone and I was one of his biggest fans. I knew darn well who he was.
But before further pleasantries could be exchanged, a guy with a briefcase who I now assume was the band’s road manager singled me out. He had spotted the Ramones T-shirt that I was wearing and with considerable gusto, he articulated his disapproval.
“That shirt is a bootleg! It’s no good!” he scowled as he poked me in the chest. “You need a real one.”
I informed him that I’d happily take a “real one” if he happened to be giving them away but he seemingly was more concerned with getting the band members on the bus than listening to my smart alec comments.
Although the evening’s opening act Holly and the Italians were lame at best, The Ramones were, to say the least, intense. They played loud, fast and delivered a blistering set packed with one amazing, break-neck, two-minute song after another. I witnessed the show from what the kids today call “the pit.” It had to have been well over one hundred degrees up front where I was. In fact, I actually had difficulty breathing during most of the band’s set and my body was literally lifted off the ground more than once by the ocean-like movement of the almost riotous crowd. But I didn’t care. I figured that if I was gonna die at eighteen, being crushed to death at a Ramones concert would be a pretty cool way to go!
Despite the departure of Dee
Dee and Marky in subsequent years, The Ramones remained a respected and
prominent force in rock and roll until officially disbanding in the late '90s.
In 2001 Joey Ramone lost his battle with cancer. In 2002 Dee Dee Ramone died
under somewhat questionable circumstances and in 2004 Johnny Ramone also fell
victim to cancer.
They
were one of the most influential bands in the history of rock and roll and their
music continues to touch fans worldwide. I sure miss The Ramones. Gabba Gabba Hey!
-Christopher Long
Author Christopher Long's latest book,
is available NOW on Amazon.
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