David Johansen

you were marvelous

Of the tributes that have been pouring in for David Johansen, I paused the longest over one by my longtime friend Justin Strauss. It just reminded me of all the good times we had back in the punk days. The punk days were made possible by David and the New York Dolls daring to play the music they did and dress the way they did. And we were lucky to have David around to enjoy the new world he made possible for us. He was always delightful company.

Although he is now back living in New York City, during the punk era, Justin and some of his bandmates in the pop band Milk & Cookies lived in an apartment complex in West Hollywood called the Mediterranean Village. It is located at 844 Larrabee Street just south of Sunset Blvd. in a prime area of the Sunset Strip, with Tower Records, Licorice Pizza, the Whisky a GoGo, Gazzarri’s, The Tropicana, Duke’s - the center of all the good times.

I marked some spots on the map below, which I have provided because West Hollywood is completely different now than it was in 1978. Justin’s apartment is the red pin; my bestie Pleasant lived one street over on Palm (with her roommate Brian Tristan, the future Kid Congo Powers). As you can see, due north was the Licorice Pizza record store, Joan Jett’s apartment, and the Whisky a GoGo. A little to the east was the Tropicana (the site is now a Ramada) and its diner, Duke’s. During this period of time, Tom Waits lived in a bungalow behind the Tropicana, and our friend, Joseph Fleury, from NYC, lived in the bungalow next door to Tom’s. Pleasant and I hung out there all the time since Joseph and his business partner, John Hewlett managed our friends, the band Mumps. They would also stay at the Trop when they were in town. It was all happening in this square mile.

Even though he enjoyed cult star status, Tom Waits was quite accessible, as was his friend Chuck E. Weiss. This was also around the same time Rickie Lee Jones and Tom were a couple, and we’d sometimes see her hanging out there as well. Tom jokingly called Pleasant and me “juvenile delinquents” because we used his car as a prop (without asking permission) in photos, but he was friendly overall, and often big-brotherly. Once he told me I needed to broaden my musical horizons because there was a lot more out there than punk rock, vital as it was.

“Hey Tom Waits,” I would reply, emphasizing that I was now addressing him as the star I felt he was, “my dad was born and raised in Chicago. I grew up listening to the blues. I listen to Howlin’ Wolf every day! I can do the do.” He was pleased with this, but then always insisted I let him introduce me to jazz.

If this cluster of good times and good people sounds like it was Party Central, you would not be wrong. Between pre- and post-Whisky show hangs Chez Joan Jett, Pleasant and Kid also had a “do drop in” policy. Justin would frequently have gatherings when his friends and bands from NYC were in town.

I fondly remember the Summer of 1978 when the David Johansen Group had so many gigs in LA. Justin had a party in their honor, and invited Tom Waits. It turned out that David and Tom hadn’t yet met, and in retrospect, you can see that they had so much in common. It was imperative to get those two men in the same room!

I’m going to jump ahead and post this clip I found on YouTube of a gig from the recent past that I had no idea even happened. This is David Johansen and Hubert Sumlin performing “Killing Floor,” a Howlin’ Wolf classic. Originally released in 1964 on the Chess label, “Killing Floor” is iconic Chicago electric blues. Howlin’ Wolf wrote and sang the song; on the original recording, Sumlin plays (and likely originated) the instantly recognizable riff (Led Zeppelin fans - Jimmy Page owes a lot to Hubert Sumlin) and Buddy Guy plays acoustic guitar.

THIS is why Justin was compelled to introduce our neighbor, Tom Waits to his old NYC mentor, David Johansen. Tom Waits sang of “The Heart of Saturday Night” on his 1974 album of the same name. I felt he was one of the chambers of the heart of Los Angeles poetry-meets-music set; David Johansen was the heart of the downtown NYC music scene. This big heart was Life itself to me and my circle of friends… this love of music. That night in the Mediterranean Village in West Hollywood beat the heart of a vibrant music scene still small enough for us to all know each other and gather in a two-bedroom apartment.

This gathering of people who are now renown took place at a time when they weren’t as widely known; cult figures at best. What did we talk about? It was at this party that I was crowned “Punk Rock’s Designated Driver” by David Johansen.

My 1978 Little Honda Civic Hatchback was the topic of conversation. Since I got it (Christmas 1977), it had already saved Pleasant, Kid Congo, and me from danger at the Hollywood Cemetery late at night on Easter Sunday, when we were picking flowers, and chased by a bunch of low-riders with pipes and chains! Its tight turning radius helped us lose the Impala on Melrose Ave., and I was not afraid to run red lights and make U-turn after U-turn. The poor little car had also been inspected and turned inside out by US Border Patrol on a recent trip Pleasant and I made to Tijuana.

At this juncture, Tom Waits advised me in his best Big Brotherly way, “You drove on the freeway in a Honda?” Remember, Tom drove a 1955 Chevy. My Honda probably could have parked inside it. “Truck drivers can’t see you. You have to be careful.”

I’m fairly certain it was Pleasant who jumped into the conversation to defend me by testifying to my defensive driving excellence, and David popped in to announce, “Well, I guess you are Punk Rock’s Designated Driver.”

Thank you for this memory, David.

Pleasant and I always did our part for our favorite Doll. Lobotomy followed all David Jo’s Los Angeles gigs, and his first one was as the opener on a leg of Tom Petty & the Heartbreakers’ tour. We reviewed that show. Looking back at the tiny review we printed, you can see that our official punk rock position was that the NY Dolls were sine qua non of our scene. There was no punk rock without them; they were our raison d’être. Just a year and a half earlier, we had all seen Tom Petty & the Heartbreakers’ Los Angeles debut at the Whisky, and it was as though they were born fully formed, ready for stardom. I also naively believed that moving from Whisky a GoGo gigs to headlining at the Santa Monica Civic Auditorium in such a short time cemented their status as big time rock stars (it would be another 18 months before “Refugee” was released and owned the airwaves). If you were fortunate to have been born at the right time to have seen Tom Petty & the Heartbreakers in 1977, you may have accurately predicted their staying power; they were that good already.

Here is the ad in Lobotomy for shows at the Whisky in June 1978. The Whisky - Dee Dee especially - kept us funded by buying ads and letting us host benefit shows for ourselves under their roof. David Johansen and his group (that included his Dolls bandmate, Syl Sylvain) headlined there ten days after their Santa Monica Civic show opening for Tom Petty & the Heartbreakers.

The David Johansen Group toured relentlessly the next couple years. As time progressed, you could see that Buster Poindexter was going to emerge. At least I did. There were some sloppy drunk shows, but David was able to make it work, even if they were sloppy performances - it became part of the persona. David and his band were live show warriors. They had a bag of tricks - comfortable and familiar covers, the kind of song you hear on oldies radio and LOVED.

At the same time, David was incredibly self-aware. The lead track on his eponymous debut solo album was “Funky But Chic.” He was! This is a performance not from 1978, but 1993, from the Conan O’Brien show and you can see E-Street Band drummer and Conan show bandleader Max Weinberg behind David for the duration. But seeing David’s command of the stage is preferable than looking at his album cover while listening to the track.

The last time I saw David was in 2003 in NYC at a gallery show of his paintings he called Saints and Sinners. The time I saw him prior to that was in the 1980s, and it was evident he had made some changes and found a new lease on life. He offered without prompting an apology for any bad behavior he may have displayed back in punk rock days. I was pleased to reassure him he was wise enough to have a designated driver, and was a pretty good and entertaining passenger.

Of all the reflections recently published about David’s and the Dolls’ music, I thought Greg Kot of the syndicated radio program, Sound Opinions nailed it on social media with brevity con brio.

Rob Tannenbaum’s “15 Essential Songs” in the New York Times is a solid list if you are wondering where to start listening to or catching up on your Johansen/Dolls tunes.

One of my favorite of David’s songs from his solo repertoire is “Frenchette,” from his first album.

This band is the lineup that toured with him in the beginning. Syl Sylvain (on keyboards in this clip) and drummer Frankie La Rocka are no longer with us either.

I love how the lyrics reference the groups that influenced him.

Remember how we were marveling darling, we were marvelous
Yeah we were marveling at The Marvelettes
We fell in love with Veronica
And every last one of The Ronettes
It sure got hot when Levi Stubbs
He got burned boys
Messing round with Bernadette

David - you were marvelous.