By Lawrence Eiden
On a hot Milwaukee summer night in 1981 three young men were performing outside a venue the Pretenders were playing. Imagine the crowd shouting “stop playing that whiny trash” as they shoved past the street performers and squirmed into the concert. James Honeyman-Scott of the Pretenders liked the folksy punk act, and fellow band member Chrissie Hynde invited the band to play a short set. That night punk rock received a second breath. As the first wave of punk was ending the Violent Femmes banged, screeched, and swore their way onto the scene.
The Femmes second self-titled album took college radio by storm and quickly spread across the Midwest. Ex-band geeks promptly recognized a style of percussion long lost to rock since the Cuban influence of the 1950s. The lead singer, Gordon Gano, spoke to the anxiety and frustration felt by adolescent gen-Xers.
Gano’s voice sounds like a nasal chant followed by sob with a muffled scream. And it works! Songs such as “Blister in the Sun,” “Kiss Off,” and “Add It Up,” became fond memories that many generation Xers can still recall in the same manner some could tell you exactly where they were when Kennedy was shot.
So, of course, I wanted to experience one of their concerts. I laid down a week's salary for two tickets, two concert shirts, and downloaded every album the Femmes put out. I’ve heard their music throughout my life as my chubby dad loved to scream their songs in the shower and on the way to school. Once in awhile, my dad would poke me saying: “sing along, you know you want to.”
I emailed the Michigan Theater’s general manager, the publicity folks from The Ark, and finally the Violent Femmes manager in hopes of securing a moment to ask the group a few questions. Maybe I could take a few photos for the Optimist. Thankfully I was permitted to take a few pictures of the Violent Femmes during their first three songs. Sadly, I couldn’t meet the band.
So, I geared up for the concert on Sunday night. Ann Arbor has a rich history of punk, and everyone from Iggy Pop to Sonic Youth to Nirvana paid homage to the Ann Arbor scene. I wanted to feel some of that nostalgia! I watched numerous YouTube videos, listened to every album, and researched the stories passed down from my father’s generation and prepared for the unique experience.
As I drove to the venue downtown, I prayed to the rock gods: “please don’t let this be a bunch of old farts milking their reputation before their bodies explode from fat and cholesterol.” The Rolling Stones have that covered, no need for more.
Anyway, I was looking forward to witnessing their drummer, John Sparrow, use a Weber grill in place of a snare drum. A move somewhere in between the Velvet Underground and a street performer on Michigan Ave. I was ready to escape my generation's autotuned “music,” and experience something that would hopefully surpass my expectations.
I parked my car a couple of blocks away in a structure and walked to the venue. I noticed a short line of gen-Xers and college hipsters bending around the sidewalk. As I approached the theater, I was greeted by a brightly lit sign. It read “The Violent Femmes Presented by The Ark.”
Eventually, I found my seat, although I hoped I wouldn’t sit much. While the theater was scarcely filled, the warm-up act marched on stage. His name was Brett Newski. Newski introduced himself as a fan of the Violent Femmes and a “Polish guy from Milwaukee.” His dry, dark, and cynical sense of humor is evident in his songs. They were hilarious! My favorite songs of the Milwaukee native are “I’m Paranoid,” and “Bro Country.” I suggest readers pay attention to this talented folk-rocker.
As my fellow concert-goers sipped their over-priced beer, The Violent Femmes strolled down my aisle towards the stage beating giant tribal drums. When the band reached the stage, they started their electrifying set. I shoved and pushed my way towards the stage. I had a press pass to take photos during the first three songs; although it was made very clear, I could not use flash. The Femmes took note of my photo obsession and clearly wondered what I was up to. I got a nod and smirk just as the bouncer tapped me on the shoulder. I was stunned. The three songs were a five-minute daze. Still, the crowd danced and jumped between the seats. Some of them falling over. The Femmes sounded just as good as a studio album. Clearly gifted artists banging and strumming anything in site. No computers or auto tune needed. Just get your tribal spirit flowing and shout the words…you know you want to!
The Femmes knew how to connect with the crowd. They took us on a trip down memory lane to remind us of that younger, leaner, fearless rocker. They played loud, fast, and their songs transitioned into each other without a break. I decided midway through the show these weren’t a bunch of burned out rockers milking their reputation. THANK GOD!
When Gordon Gano busted out his banjo, the crowd went insane. The Violent Femmes played their eerie song “Country Death Song,” where Gano tells a story of a man drowning his daughter. The track is oddly addictive. “Country Death Song,” is a necessity on any proper Halloween playlist. Writers should make you feel their pain, their love, and I felt every ounce of Gano’s insanity. He either found some dude to tell him how it felt to kill his family, or perhaps Gordon is projecting. Either way…creep on!
The drummer, John Sparrow, didn’t play the grill as much as advertised; but Sparrow performed a solo using the Weber grill near the end of the concert. It was impressive, to say the least. I wonder whether there is a specific sound he wants to create or if Sparrow hopes to highlight his uniqueness.
The best songs of the night were “American Music,” and “Add It Up.” Both tracks have been favorites of mine since childhood. Seeing the songs performed live was transcending. I appreciate the guitar shred Gano added to “American Music,” and the crowd’s fondness of the track was evident when I heard the entire venue sing along.
All in all, I feel incredibly fortunate to live in a town that hosts such acts. The Violent Femmes are a tremendous live act, and I highly recommend attending a concert next time they are in town. If you have not listened to their albums, definitely check out their self-titled album as well as Hallowed Ground.
On a hot Milwaukee summer night in 1981 three young men were performing outside a venue the Pretenders were playing. Imagine the crowd shouting “stop playing that whiny trash” as they shoved past the street performers and squirmed into the concert. James Honeyman-Scott of the Pretenders liked the folksy punk act, and fellow band member Chrissie Hynde invited the band to play a short set. That night punk rock received a second breath. As the first wave of punk was ending the Violent Femmes banged, screeched, and swore their way onto the scene.
The Femmes second self-titled album took college radio by storm and quickly spread across the Midwest. Ex-band geeks promptly recognized a style of percussion long lost to rock since the Cuban influence of the 1950s. The lead singer, Gordon Gano, spoke to the anxiety and frustration felt by adolescent gen-Xers.
Gano’s voice sounds like a nasal chant followed by sob with a muffled scream. And it works! Songs such as “Blister in the Sun,” “Kiss Off,” and “Add It Up,” became fond memories that many generation Xers can still recall in the same manner some could tell you exactly where they were when Kennedy was shot.
So, of course, I wanted to experience one of their concerts. I laid down a week's salary for two tickets, two concert shirts, and downloaded every album the Femmes put out. I’ve heard their music throughout my life as my chubby dad loved to scream their songs in the shower and on the way to school. Once in awhile, my dad would poke me saying: “sing along, you know you want to.”
I emailed the Michigan Theater’s general manager, the publicity folks from The Ark, and finally the Violent Femmes manager in hopes of securing a moment to ask the group a few questions. Maybe I could take a few photos for the Optimist. Thankfully I was permitted to take a few pictures of the Violent Femmes during their first three songs. Sadly, I couldn’t meet the band.
So, I geared up for the concert on Sunday night. Ann Arbor has a rich history of punk, and everyone from Iggy Pop to Sonic Youth to Nirvana paid homage to the Ann Arbor scene. I wanted to feel some of that nostalgia! I watched numerous YouTube videos, listened to every album, and researched the stories passed down from my father’s generation and prepared for the unique experience.
As I drove to the venue downtown, I prayed to the rock gods: “please don’t let this be a bunch of old farts milking their reputation before their bodies explode from fat and cholesterol.” The Rolling Stones have that covered, no need for more.
Anyway, I was looking forward to witnessing their drummer, John Sparrow, use a Weber grill in place of a snare drum. A move somewhere in between the Velvet Underground and a street performer on Michigan Ave. I was ready to escape my generation's autotuned “music,” and experience something that would hopefully surpass my expectations.
I parked my car a couple of blocks away in a structure and walked to the venue. I noticed a short line of gen-Xers and college hipsters bending around the sidewalk. As I approached the theater, I was greeted by a brightly lit sign. It read “The Violent Femmes Presented by The Ark.”
Eventually, I found my seat, although I hoped I wouldn’t sit much. While the theater was scarcely filled, the warm-up act marched on stage. His name was Brett Newski. Newski introduced himself as a fan of the Violent Femmes and a “Polish guy from Milwaukee.” His dry, dark, and cynical sense of humor is evident in his songs. They were hilarious! My favorite songs of the Milwaukee native are “I’m Paranoid,” and “Bro Country.” I suggest readers pay attention to this talented folk-rocker.
As my fellow concert-goers sipped their over-priced beer, The Violent Femmes strolled down my aisle towards the stage beating giant tribal drums. When the band reached the stage, they started their electrifying set. I shoved and pushed my way towards the stage. I had a press pass to take photos during the first three songs; although it was made very clear, I could not use flash. The Femmes took note of my photo obsession and clearly wondered what I was up to. I got a nod and smirk just as the bouncer tapped me on the shoulder. I was stunned. The three songs were a five-minute daze. Still, the crowd danced and jumped between the seats. Some of them falling over. The Femmes sounded just as good as a studio album. Clearly gifted artists banging and strumming anything in site. No computers or auto tune needed. Just get your tribal spirit flowing and shout the words…you know you want to!
The Femmes knew how to connect with the crowd. They took us on a trip down memory lane to remind us of that younger, leaner, fearless rocker. They played loud, fast, and their songs transitioned into each other without a break. I decided midway through the show these weren’t a bunch of burned out rockers milking their reputation. THANK GOD!
When Gordon Gano busted out his banjo, the crowd went insane. The Violent Femmes played their eerie song “Country Death Song,” where Gano tells a story of a man drowning his daughter. The track is oddly addictive. “Country Death Song,” is a necessity on any proper Halloween playlist. Writers should make you feel their pain, their love, and I felt every ounce of Gano’s insanity. He either found some dude to tell him how it felt to kill his family, or perhaps Gordon is projecting. Either way…creep on!
The drummer, John Sparrow, didn’t play the grill as much as advertised; but Sparrow performed a solo using the Weber grill near the end of the concert. It was impressive, to say the least. I wonder whether there is a specific sound he wants to create or if Sparrow hopes to highlight his uniqueness.
The best songs of the night were “American Music,” and “Add It Up.” Both tracks have been favorites of mine since childhood. Seeing the songs performed live was transcending. I appreciate the guitar shred Gano added to “American Music,” and the crowd’s fondness of the track was evident when I heard the entire venue sing along.
All in all, I feel incredibly fortunate to live in a town that hosts such acts. The Violent Femmes are a tremendous live act, and I highly recommend attending a concert next time they are in town. If you have not listened to their albums, definitely check out their self-titled album as well as Hallowed Ground.