Wailing Guitars, Crash of the Drums

 

“We were punk before punk. We were new wave before new wave. We were metal before metal. We were even MC before Hammer. Depending on your perspective, we were the electro-mechanical climax of the age or some sort of countercultural hoax. We were considered killer, righteous, high energy dudes who could pitch a wang dang doogle all night long.”
–Rob Tyner, Kick Out The Jams reissue liner notes, 1991

In my recent Jimi Hendrix post, Existing … Nothing But Existing, I referenced a 1996 interview I did with Wayne Kramer of the MC5. That sent me down the YouTube rabbit hole, which was nice because it had been years since I indulged the Five’s brand of heavy ordnance. The MC5 is best known, if they’re known at all, as a political unit, the only band in the counterculture with the balls to play the 1968 Democratic National Convention/Police Riot. They were managed by self-styled leftist revolutionary, John Sinclair, and because they took his political message very seriously, they were taken very seriously, first by the mainstream and alternative press, and later by the authorities.

 

We didn’t wanna be Chairman Mao. We didn’t want to be supporting everybody, like 200 people. We were treated like good little communists, but I’d rather be a great drummer in a rock ‘n’ roll band.”
—Dennis Thompson, MC5 drummer, in Please Kill Me, 1996, p. 89

It was mostly bullshit. I have no doubt a genuine belief in equality and brotherhood pervaded the band members — though that equanimity certainly didn’t extend to women. However, once they started parroting the Black Panthers and going on about “total assault on the culture by any means necessary, including rock and roll, dope, and fucking in the streets,” they turned into a cartoonish version of their better selves. I totally understand loathing the destructive Nixonian death star, but theatrical self-parody — coin of the realm in the late ’60s — was no answer, and it crippled the MC5.

I’m not saying all this to belittle the Five, but rather, to consider what might’ve been. Had they not been swept up in the fashionable politics of the day, the MC5 could’ve focused on being the greatest American rock band of their generation. They still might’ve been, as the videos below will attest, but the poisonous combination of political self-righteousness, booze and drugs, label and management unrest, ego gratification, and just enough money to be dangerous was too much to overcome. At their best, though, the Motor City Five channeled Chuck Berry, James Brown, the Stones, Coltrane, and Hendrix, and paved the way for SST and Sub Pop. THAT should be their primary legacy. They did, as a matter of empirical fact, kick out the jams, motherfuckers.

MC5 – Kick Out The Jams
Tartar Field, Wayne State University, Detroit
July 19, 1970
https://youtu.be/uo35O1AJOfg

Rob Tyner – lead vocals, afro
Wayne Kramer – guitar, vocals, booty shakin’
Fred “Sonic” Smith – guitar, vocals
Michael Davis – bass
Dennis Thompson – drums

Forget the politics, look how much fun these dudes are having. Of course, why wouldn’t they have fun? In 1970, the MC5 were a swinging juggernaut of rock ‘n’ roll. A couple things worth noting: 1) Wayne Kramer is a dancing mofo and 2) The Michael Davis/Dennis Thompson rhythm section is the Five’s secret weapon and made the band swing. Thompson, especially is a powerhouse behind the kit. He’s sledgehammer heavy, but light enough that he can add fills and accents without losing the oomph. When a band has this kind of big bottom, it’s easy to let the guitars work their magic on top. Speaking of which …

MC5 – Looking At You
Tartar Field, Wayne State University, Detroit
July 19, 1970

Rob Tyner – lead vocals, afro
Wayne Kramer – guitar, vocals, extended booty shakin’
Fred “Sonic” Smith – guitar, vocals
Michael Davis – bass
Dennis Thompson – drums

As great as that “Kick Out The Jams” is, I think this performance of “Looking At You” better showcases the MC5’s depth and power. Brother Wayne continues to marvel with his dance moves, but I’m more surprised that the crowd is so dead. Did they think the MC5 were a Crosby, Stills & Nash cover band? WTF??? Zombie hippies notwithstanding, the band is in the zone, with Kramer and Sonic Smith putting on a dual lead guitar clinic pointing straight ahead to Blue Öyster Cult, Thin Lizzy, and Soul Asylum in the 1970s-80s and Mudhoney, Birds Of Avalon, and The Dexateens in the 1990s-2000s.

MC5 – Beat Club Recording Sessions
Bremen, Germany
February-March 1972
https://youtu.be/JFnkSCdpdmg

Rob Tyner – lead vocals, afro
Wayne Kramer – guitar, vocals (lead vocals on “Ramblin’ Rose”)
Fred “Sonic” Smith – guitar, vocals
Steve Moorhouse – bass
Dennis Thompson – drums

This is an interesting document of the MC5 in that it captures the band near the end of their run, but it puts a lie to the idea that they limped to the finish line. On the contrary, this performance — featuring “Steev” Moorhouse on bass instead of Michael Davis — is proof that they never stopped bringing the rock. Obviously though, that rock didn’t exist in a vacuum. All those things I mentioned above conspired against the future of the Five such that by 1972 the songwriting well had damn near dried up and all momentum was lost. Davis quit the band in mid-February and the band slowly imploded from there. However, for 30-45 minutes they could still tear the roof off the mother, sucker.

00:25-8:47 – Kick Out The Jams

I’m not really a jam guy, but some musicians scratch that itch. I love Hendrix, The Gourds, P-Funk, The Byrds with Clarence White, enough bluegrass, and plenty of jazz. I may be a caveman, but I’m a somewhat open-minded caveman. For me, this extended remix of “KotJMFers” is in that rarified jam territory because Wayne Kramer isn’t clinically showing off chops, but reveling in slowly uncoiling violence … and it’s beautiful. If “Kick Out The Jams” did nothing else, it should be commended for inventing Mudhoney.

 

9:44-12:57 – Ramblin’ Rose

Kramer takes falsetto lead vocal on this obscure cover of Ted Taylor. Not essential, but a fun rock ‘n’ roll song. Nothing wrong with that. My favorite version that I’ve ever heard was by Seattle punk mainstays, The Fastbacks. They were playing the old Crocodile Cafe in 1994-95. Roughly 20 years ago. Duff McKagan, best known as bassist for Guns N’ Roses, actually served as drummer for The Fastbacks from 1980-82. Duff again sat in on drums for “Ramblin’ Rose” as Kurt Bloch handled lead vocals and a cool-ass goldtop Gibson Les Paul.

13:10-18:05 – Motor City Is Burning

Brother Wayne throws down a wicked solo from 14:40-15:19, but this song is all about Rob Tyner. Dude was one of the most soulful singers of his era (ever?) and doesn’t get nearly enough credit as a vocalist. Tyner was obviously a rock guy, but you can hear Big Joe Turner in his voice. In fact, as far as singers letting the blues inform their rock, I think Rob Tyner was a better version of Janis Joplin than Janis Joplin. Tyner was a legit blues shouter, conveying empathy and menace in equal parts and hitting every damn note along the way.

I can’t deny that “Motor City Is Burning” wouldn’t be the same without the band’s investment in its political identity. The setting is Detroit’s 12th Street Riot in July 1965 and both the Black Panthers and National Guard make cameos. As a piece of cinéma vérité songwriting, “Motor City Is Burning” is a masterpiece. You are in the street, dodging bullets and molotov cocktails. I put it up there with “Machine Gun” by Band Of Gypsys and “Maggot Brain” by Funkadelic. Heavier than a motherfucker.

18:19-26:18 – Tonight

I like “Tonight,” but I get a chuckle out of the song’s original context. Elektra signed the MC5 in September 1968, released Kick Out The Jams in February 1969, and dropped the band a few months later when the Five told a local department store chain called Hudson’s to go fuck itself. Apparently, Elektra didn’t realize that the band endorsing the end of money might have an issue with Big Retail. The MC5 soon signed with Atlantic and they released Back In The USA in January 1970.

On paper, a return to their rock ‘n’ roll roots wasn’t a bad idea, but Jon Landau‘s pop sheen totally neuters the band’s sonic boom. Back In The USA should sound like a Sonics or Black Sabbath record. It’s like Landau shaped it for an audience that didn’t really exist. A gnarlier, grungier USA would’ve also offset lyrics like “Sittin’ in the classroom feel your heart goin’ boom.”

 

The greatness of the MC5 is that they actually pull off that juxtaposition on this Beat Club version of “Tonight.” When Tyner shouts, “OK kids, it’s rockin’ time,” it could sound ridiculous were he not signaling a shift from sock hop rock ‘n’ roll to avant rock battleship. “Tonight” is structured a lot like “Kick Out The Jams” in that you have verse-chorus-verse-chorus, an extended middle section, then back to verse-chorus. A jazz arrangement, essentially. In both cases, the middle section largely features Kramer’s guitar heroics, but on “Tonight,” both Wayne and Sonic open up the throttle and create a wonderful mutation of Muddy Waters, ZZ Top, and Ornette Coleman.

If there’s a slight downside, the song — and Dennis Thompson, specifically — misses Michael Davis. Steve Moorhouse is a capable bassist, but Davis and Thompson knew each other so well, they could stretch out knowing they had each other’s backs. That sturdy, fluid bottom end allowed Kramer and Smith more room to improvise, but also gave the MC5’s material a tone and color that isn’t quite replicated here. Again, it’s a minor complaint, but noticeable.

26:20-28:28 – Black To Comm [aborted version]

The band gives their traditional closer a brief run, but it falls apart after only a couple minutes. I like how “Black To Comm” is basically a Sam & Dave or Solomon Burke song filtered through big fucking guitars and amps. That would seem to be a pretty good formula for success, it’s a shame it never got properly recorded.

PEOPLE, NOT POLITICS

I can’t say how political the MC5 really were, but I certainly didn’t feel it. But, on a basic level, would they share their peanut butter with me? Yeah.”
—Iggy Pop in Please Kill Me, 1996, pp. 59-60

Let’s return to the idea of politics in music. I dismissed the MC5’s Marxist sloganeering for the same reason I dismiss anyone’s sloganeering. There’s nothing more middle class and dare I say bourgeoisie* than a 20-year-old white kid calling for revolution, especially in 1968. Ten-point programs and power to the people mean you don’t have to have an actual conversation. This, of course, is the attraction of politics. It not only tolerates, but encourages our inner narcissistic sociopath. It’s dysfunctional theater, nothing more, nothing less.

* I promised myself I’d never use “bourgeoisie” in casual conversation, but I think it’s the only appropriate word in this context. Regardless, I’m punshing myself by running laps.

When does the rhetoric of revolution become something real? When Wayne Kramer martials his political economy on behalf of Jail Guitar Doors, the non-profit he co-founded in 2009 with Billy Bragg that provides musical instruments to prisoners as an effort toward rehabilitation. Now THAT’S what I’m talking about. Tangible, measured action that positively and directly impacts actual humans. It’s not just talk and Facebook memes. It takes a lot of guts to support some of the least respected members of society: non-violent prisoners. It’s one thing to preach about power to the people. It’s another thing to provide the powerless with an opportunity to become better people. Much respect.

 

In fact, juxtaposing the White Panthers’ take on incarceration versus the Jail Guitar Doors platform should make clear who the adults are in the discussion.

Free all prisoners everywhere — they are our brothers!”
—White Panther Statement, November 1968

We believe prisoners provided with the musical tools to create songs of their own can achieve a positive change of attitude that can initiate the work necessary to successfully return to life outside prison walls. Creating music, along with other educational and vocational programs, can be a profound force for positive change in a prisoner’s life. Our goal is to aid the ‘correctional’ aspect of corrections that can only come from a regenerated belief in one’s future as a positive, contributing member of society.”
—Jail Guitar Doors website

This segues nicely to the final chapter of my look back at the MC5. We again visit Cris Kirkwood, Meat Puppets bassist and newly-appointed caster of pods. A couple months ago, Kirkwood sat down with Wayne Kramer for the fourth episode of his podcast. The first half mostly covers the MC5 in the context of the Vietnam War and the second half mostly covers America’s incarceration epidemic. Given that both Kirkwood and Kramer spent time in prison on federal drug offenses, it’s a sobering, intelligent, refreshingly level-headed discussion. I highly recommend you set aside an hour to give this a listen.

Quick sidenote: Having mentioned both Kramer and Picasso‘s anti-war masterpiece, Guernica in Existing … Nothing But Existing, I feel vindicated that Brother Wayne specifically references Guernica as a benchmark for art as direct cultural response.

Wayne Kramer on The Cris Kirkwood Podcast