Pagans “Dead End America” / “Little Black Egg”

High energy, stripped-down, snarly punk songs from 1979 era Pagans on Drome Records. The B-side, a cover of The Nightcrawler’s “Little Black Egg,” doesn’t do much for me, but “Dead End America” is an approximately 2 minute definition of punk rock. I especially like the weird throbbing noise between vocal lines that sounds like water being agitated in a rubber bladder, but I suspect is something the bass might be doing. (The bass player, Tim Allee, was very good.) I saw the Pagans play a few times—it was at a club in Cleveland, or Lakewood, on Detroit, just west of W.117^th. I might have bought it at a show—or was there a record store next to the club?—I don’t remember. It’s a striking pink and black label, and there’s a heavy paper cover with a reproduction of a 1978 Cleveland Press newspaper clipping of the Jonestown Massacre. The other side is a photo of singer, Michael Hudson, and some credits. It was put out by Johnny Dromette, a kind of punk impresario back then—I heard lots about him but don’t think I ever met him. I also had the single with “What’s This Shit Called Love” (my fav), but I lost it somehow. My friends and I regularly drove to Cleveland from Sandusky for punk shows, and we saw the Pagans as much as anyone—they were a fun and menacing band—not real approachable—they were the cool kids. I remember when they returned after a tour, and now they all had long hair, and them not giving a fuck impressed me, at the time, as the most punk thing ever. I feel like the club had a different name, but I can’t remember it—but it was eventually The Phantasy NiteClub, with the pirate ship inside—saw a lot of shows there. Mike Hudson went on to do a lot of writing. He passed away a few years back. I read his book, Diary of a Punk—it’s excellent, worth reading—and seems to be hard to find now. I gave my copy to my niece—I hope she kept it!

Bernie & The Invisibles “All Possibilities Are Open”

There was a time some years ago when if you asked me what my favorite band of all time was, I would have said Bernie & The Invisibles—mostly based on the memories I had of seeing them live in the late Seventies, I guess it was—though I seem to have failed to document, in writing, much of this time. Around when my friends and I started our first punk band, we used to drive to Cleveland kind of regularly to see the punk bands who were playing at, as I recall, the Phantasy, Hennessy’s, and Pirates Cove. The bands that stood out were were the Adults, the Pagans, the Kneecappers, and Bernie & The Invisibles. I don’t remember The Invisibles all that much (I guess the drummer, the late Peter Ball is responsible for preserving some of this stuff)—but Bernie (who is Bernie Joelson) is just ingrained in my memory—I was pretty entranced with him. More than the other bands, you got the sense that if it wasn’t for punk rock, Bernie wouldn’t be doing this—but he HAD to be doing this. He had songs that needed to be unleashed on the world. His songs and his personalty were coming from some unique, impossible to understand by anyone but him place—and we were just getting this glimpse into his world. I looked forward to seeing him at every opportunity, and I got to know some of the songs, like “Eventually” and “Chinese Church.”

I’ve had some of his music on cassettes over the years, from live shows, I guess, but this is the first I’ve heard on vinyl—put out by My Mind’s Eye Records from Cleveland. (And thanks to Jeff Curtis for sending this to me!) If you’ve never seen Bernie live, this record might not do much for you—the sound quality it rough—and his style is fairly primitive. But it’s a good reminder to me of that time when he was my favorite in the world. There is a zine style insert with some writing and art by Bernie, old fliers, and liner notes by Mike Hudson who was the lead singer of the Pagans, and later a journalist—sadly, he passed away in 2017. I read his book, Diary of a Punk, and I’d highly recommend it. There are some good Bernie & The Invisibles stories here, and he expresses his appreciation for Bernie better than I could. I’ll excerpt part of one paragraph: “(Bernie) would wind his own personal experiences in with the views of Wittgenstein, Nietzsche, Buddha or Jesus Christ to create brilliant lyrics that hinted at the cosmos and the meaning of life while, at the same time were filled with good humor and a genuine sweetness I’ve never forgotten.” You might have to be a real detective to make out all of the lyrics on the songs, but it’s worth trying. I’d love if there was a lyric sheet. There is, at least, a brief tape review by Jim Clinefelter, a good zine excerpted interview, and some writing by Bernie that’s well worth squinting to read.