Sunday, November 22, 2009

Reduced To Parking Spaces

Photo by News46, from the Torontoist Flickr Pool

This post is a follow-up to my previous post about "Back On The Chain Gang," which was written partly about Chrissie Hynde's turbulent relationship with Ray Davies and partly about the drug overdose death of guitarist James Honeyman-Scott. It's a quintessential study in loss and a rightful classic.

In researching that song, I discovered a curious, and perhaps not coincidental, overlap between The Pretenders and The Kinks in 1982. Both the flipside to "Chain Gang" and The Kinks' next single also doubled as statements of loss. However, in each case, the loss they spoke of was not romantic or professional in nature. The loss of which they spoke was of a remembered community.

Kinks - Come Dancing [purchase]

Pretenders - My City Was Gone [purchase]

Musically, these tunes couldn't be more different. The Kinks sound like they're writing with Raul Malo in mind, while The Pretenders are getting so much choogle on, I'm surprised John Fogerty didn't ask for royalties. But thematically, the songs are deeply intertwined. Compare and contrast these lyrical excerpts:

COME DANCING
The day they knocked down the palais,
My sister stood and cried,
The day they knocked down the palais,
Part of my childhood died, just died.


MY CITY WAS GONE
Well, I went back to Ohio,
But my family was gone,
I stood on the back porch,
There was nobody home,
I was stunned and amazed,
My childhood memories,
Slowly swirled past,
Like the wind through the trees.


COME DANCING
Now I'm grown up and playing in a band,
And there's a car park where the palais used to stand.


MY CITY WAS GONE
My city had been pulled down,
Reduced to parking spaces.


COME DANCING
They put a parking lot on a piece of land,
Where the supermarket used to stand,
Before that they put up a bowling alley,
On the site that used to be the local palais.


MY CITY WAS GONE
I went back to Ohio,
But my pretty countryside,
Had been paved down the middle,
By a government that had no pride,
The farms of Ohio,
Had been replaced by shopping malls.


On a fundamental level, the communal loss here is a kind of remembered ... and one could argue, idealized ... community. The palais in "Come Dancing" may have been knocked down for perfectly justifiable economic reasons, just as Akron's city leaders, rightly or wrongly, turned Ohio's pretty countryside into malls in an effort to generate money. However, in each case the change implies a kind of death. It's the death of childhood and innocence, which can be tantamount to a personal violation. That's why Davies sings, "The day they knocked down the palais, part of my childhood died, just died." Similarly for Hynde, "MY city was gone." Akron was still there, of course. But, the Akron that she remembered was gone and that change represented death.

I think this feeling of profound change equaling loss or death is universal, sometimes to entire societies (think Native American tribes) or micro-societies (like the dancers who came to the palais). To give you a taste of this pain and confusion, simply talk to any Brooklynite who grew up watching the Dodgers.



As I've stated many times, Ray Davies will always be rock's master of positive nostalgia, "preserving the old ways for me and for you." So, "Come Dancing" was in his natural wheelhouse. For Hynde, though, capturing the loss of young and innocent days was new territory ... though she did it with Dylan-esque invective (and vocal phrasing) rather than Ray's more contemplative approach. Regardless, it remains one of her signature songwriting moments and the "Back On The Chain Gang"/"My City Was Gone" 45 could be the greatest double-sided single of all-time. Yes, I am looking at you "Hound Dog" b/w "Don't Be Cruel."

As a bonus, I'm including video versions of our two songs. First is the original "Come Dancing" video featuring the big band Kinks. This is followed by The Pretenders in 1998 doing a version of "My City Was Gone" that falls somewhere between Creedence and Neil Young. You know ... rock.



Wednesday, November 11, 2009

Back On The Chain Gang

L-R: Martin Chambers, Pete Farndon, James Honeyman-Scott, Chrissie Hynde

You may have noticed that the Adios Lounge has been on vacation for awhile. Fact is, we've been closed for repairs, mostly of the cogno-synaptic variety. You know, wiring and stuff. That's the bad news. The good news is that those issues are being addressed and the Lounge is open for business again. But, don't thank me, thank this wonderful tune by Chrissie Hynde and The Pretenders, one of my favorite songs since its release as a single in November 1982. By addressing the pain of loss and the necessity of not giving up, it didn't take a genius to figure out its appeal to me. Sure, lying in the fetal position and wondering, "Why me?" has its adherents, but Miss Chrissie makes it clear that we must hoist ourselves back on the proverbial chain gang. And so here we are.

Pretenders - Back On The Chain Gang [CD] [Vinyl] [Cassette ... heh heh]

"I found a picture of you, oh-oh-oh-oh,
Those were the happiest days of my life,
Like a break in the battle was your part, oh-oh-oh-oh,
In the wretched life of a lonely heart."


"It was from a little photograph of Ray Davies (that) I found in a wallet. We were trying to work the song out in soundchecks for a while, but later when my guitar player died I finished the song off with him in mind."
--Chrissie Hynde, in Rolling Stone, 2005


It's been so long now, most people don't remember that Chrissie Hynde and Ray Davies were an item in the early '80s. Their stormy, on-again, off-again relationship produced a daughter in January 1983 and was the initial inspiration for "Back On The Chain Gang." However, as she makes clear, it was the cocaine overdose of her badass guitarist and songwriting foil, James Honeyman-Scott (pictured above), in June 1982 that cast the song in a new light. In fact, Scott died two days after original bassist and former boyfriend, Pete Farndon, was kicked out of the band because of his drug dependency. Furthering the tragedy, Farndon drowned to death in April 1983 after passing out in a bathtub due to a heroin OD. In other words, in a period of 10 months, two bandmates died, her child was born, and certainly at the time of Scott's death, her career (as well as her love life) looked to be in serious jeopardy.

"Oh, I was bummed. One day I had a band, and two days later I didn't. But, I see all of these things as being a reflection of something greater. I think I have a pretty healthy grip on what loss is about. Loss is extremely painful, but I think that it's ultimately our separation from God that it's trying to remind us of."
--Chrissie Hynde, in The Independent, 2003


While the lyrics point to Hynde's professional losses, the music of "Back On The Chain Gang" combines two of the three fundamental pillars of The Pretenders' glorious noise: The bedrock influence of the British Invasion and the underappreciated influence of soul music. Only the primal energy of mid-'70s punk rock, heard to such great effect live and on Pretenders (pictured above) and Pretenders II, was absent. Although, given the subject matter, that was certainly understandable.

Maybe it's just me, but I've always heard the intro/outro of "Eight Days A Week" in the intro to "Back On The Chain Gang." Yes? No? You be the judge:

Outro to "Eight Days" > Intro to "Back"

Granted, The Beatles chord sequence is D-E-G and The Pretenders is D-A-G, but that's close enough for government work. Add to that their common B minor-G turnarounds in the verses and you can understand my association of the two songs.

A PLACE IN THE PAST, WE'VE BEEN CAST OUT OF

For the most part, though, the pervasive influence on "Back On The Chain Gang" ... if not Chrissie Hynde, in general ... is Ray Davies (pictured below right). Given the personal origins of the song, that reference makes perfect sense. But, the combination of theme and music is brilliantly, artfully constructed. Hynde has written an elegy to the past that just happens to be (at least partially) about the songwriter who mastered elegies to the past. Further, the music echoes The Kinks at their best, such that were there no lyrics, the song could reasonably be considered an homage to the band's classic mid-to-late '60s heyday.

"The powers that be,
That force us to live like we do,
Bring me to my knees,
When I see what they've done to you.

But I'll die as I stand here today,
Knowing that deep in my heart,
They'll fall to ruin one day,
For making us part."


I think where The Kinks feel is most evident is in "Back's" middle eighth, quoted above. The notion that "the powers that be" force us to live in certain ways and that we must fight them is part and parcel of the Ray Davies catalog. His anti-authoritarianism wasn't brazenly political, but showed the effects of the political on the personal. In that sense, he not only influenced Hynde, but the whole of mid-'70s punk rock.

Musically, though, the debt to the Kinks is equally formidable. Billy Bremner's slashing guitar is straight outta the Dave Davies book of awesome the way it cuts through and rides above the rhythm section. Speaking of which, Tony Butler's bass lopes around Martin Chambers' straight-ahead 4/4, not unlike some of Pete Quaife's classic moves in partnership with Mick Avory. For example:

Kinks - Big Black Smoke [CD] (FYI, I'm linking to the Sanctuary import of Face To Face, which is remastered and features several A and B-sides of that period, including "Big Black Smoke." It's more expensive, but vastly superior to all other options.)

MEANWHILE, I GOT TO WORK RIGHT HERE

"As a tribute to Pete and Jimmy, I've kept the name (The Pretenders) and I've kept the sound. It's for them that I've carried on."
--Chrissie Hynde, in The Independent, 2003

All this Kinkiness tends to obscure the influence of soul music on Chrissie Hynde ... and that would be a mistake. Of course, "Back On The Chain Gang" is an obvious homage to the Adios Lounge's patron saint of cool, Sam Cooke. But, The Pretenders next album, 1984's Learning To Crawl, also features a cover of "Thin Line Between Love And Hate," which was a 1971 R&B hit for The Persuaders. I'd also argue that "Show Me" sounds like it was written with Sam & Dave in mind. At the very least, it would be a perfect showcase of their vocal prowess.

With all that soulfulness in mind, let's listen to one of the main inspirations for "Back On The Chain Gang." Huh! Ahh! That's the sound of the men ...

Sam Cooke - Chain Gang [CD][MP3]


COMING SOON

A follow-up to this post (i.e. more Pretenders and Kinks), a return to the Clarence White chronicles, and a look back at early Lone Justice. Back on the chain gang, indeed.