God Is A Bullet
Abandoned Albums — Concrete Blonde
Music
Abandoned Albums — Concrete Blonde
The music industry is loaded with talented women. It always has been. Whether they’re behind the scenes, behind the stage, behind the pen, motivation, or the instruments, they’re ubiquitous.
It’s safe to say that, in one way or another, women have been the driving force for much of… well, for much of music’s history.
It’s also safe to say that, taken as a whole, women have been marginalized and much-maligned… well, for much of music’s history.
And when a woman rises to the top of music, as a performer, it’s usually to exalted degrees — think Madonna, Janet Jackson (Miss Jackson if you’re nasty), Aretha Franklin, etc. While Madonna moved the needle, Taylor Swift has taken the needle way past the red line.
While Swift may currently reside as the reigning Queen of All Things Music, even the most cursory student of history (or music) knows that her reign will one day end.
It seems almost idiotic to say… which ensures I will say it — so many women don’t even come close to reaching that level of success, let alone even gaining access to the Queen’s court.
We could easily argue that the patriarchal structure of the music business only allows one female Queen at a time, but this is not that argument.
We could also argue about what era of music is the true “golden era” of music. I suspect it would present itself as a rabble of noisy music fans, but ultimately it’s safe to say that the definition of “golden era” would fall along generational lines.
That being said, the 80s and 90s were genuinely modern music’s heyday.
Concrete Blonde
Concrete Blonde was a three-piece LA-based band led by lead singer Johnette Napolitano. Despite having one of the best voices, male or female, in rock, the closest that she, or the band, could get to entering the court of rock deity was peering through the gate.
The first time I heard Concrete Blonde was also the first time I saw Concrete Blonde. I saw the video for “Still in Hollywood” on MTV — on whatever “alternative” midnight show was popular at the moment.
Christ knows Concrete Blonde, led by lead singer Johnette Napolitano, didn’t fit in with Madonna and whatever other pop pablum that MTV was pumping and dumping on society at the time.
Christ also knows the radio station in Dayton, Ohio, wouldn’t play it.
I was immediately smitten with the band. It wasn’t just because I found Johnette Napolitano attractive — it’s the dark hair folks… gets me every time. Sure, that was the initial attraction, I’ll own that, but that faded by the first chorus.
Now my knowledge of female singers at the time was limited to the big names — Janis Joplin, Stevie Nicks and Christine McVie of Fleetwood Mac, Joan Jett, Debbie Harry, Heart, Aretha Franklin, Chrissy Hynde, Grace Slick (Jefferson Airplane, Jefferson Starship, Starship, et al.) and I am sure there are loads I am forgetting. So my apologies in advance, but I don’t have the bandwidth to troll the deep recess’ of my mind trying to recall them.
And female pop singers were primarily ingenue’s until Madonna started futzing with that paradigm. Of course, there were others before Madonna, but let’s be honest, Madonna achieved what many other women couldn’t. I think it’s worth noting that it’s not that previous artists wouldn’t, but they literally couldn’t (see the previous comment about patriarchy.) Love her or hate her, what Madonna did was say: “Fuck. That.” and she did it.
As I watched Concrete Blonde and Johnette Napolitano bang out “Still in Hollywood,” it was Napolitano’s voice. That voice! I hadn’t heard anything that grabbed me by the balls like that since I first heard Janis Joplin. But she wasn’t of my generation.
And then Chrissy Hynde, well, she didn’t grab me in the same way — her grab was paired with a more seductive purr (and leather pants) that didn’t limit itself to my balls… it ya know what I mean.
Napolitano’s energy in “Still in Hollywood” was relentless… and she was playing bass! She had done what both Joplin and Hynde did to me, but it was different. She sounded as though Janis Joplin and Chrissy Hynde had a child. I was no longer smitten; I had fallen in love.
[Fun fact: Proving my point, Concrete Blonde covered “Mercedes Benz” on 1996’s Recollection: The Best of Concrete Blonde.]
While I knew enough to recognize the song as “punk-ish,” Concrete Blonde had something I had never heard in the punk I had been exposed to — melody, structure, and proper tuning. Aside from The Clash, my feelings about punk were, and remain, that it’s primarily fueled by energy and anger.
Musically, that’s never enough for me.
Personally, I see the irony — some may say that energy and anger are two things that fuel me — c’est la vie.
In any event, I like a good melody and someone singing in tune and not yelling or screaming at me.
If I wanted to listen someone yell and scream all kinds of nonsense at me, I’d call any of my ex-girlfriends.
In addition to “Still in Hollywood” sounding, well, just different, the video itself was also different. The video did have a punk sort of DIY vibe to it.
My visual sensibility and understanding were beginning to percolate, so the black and white grainy video with the jerky camera, quick cuts of the band playing live, interspersed with all kinds of Hollywood landmarks was interesting. It had a real Jim Jarmusch feel to it.
From my Midwestern sofa, the video seemed arty — at least the kind of arty that resonated with me — it was arty and accessible instead of weird and alienating.
“Still in Hollywood” was on Concrete Blonde’s self-titled debut, released in 1986. The band was Johnette Napolitano on bass and vocals, James Mankey on guitars, and drummer Harry Rushakoff.
In addition to being the first single, it was the first song on the album. The song begins as if we’re listening to the band rehearse. The chatter and then the instrument plug-in flowing right into the song is an effect rarely used and even more rarely successful.
Concrete Blonde was produced by Earle Mankey, member of the seminal band Sparks, brother of Concrete Blonde guitarist James, and producer of a slew of LA-based bands — including The Runaways. It’s his production that would help shape the sound of the band. His production gave the record a “big” sound, almost like it was recorded in a high school gymnasium. This works to the band’s advantage, in particular on songs like “Still in Hollywood,” “Dance Along the Edge,” and “Your Haunted Head.”
The rest of the album highlights both the lyrical and sonic diversity of the band. It includes a ballad — in as much as one can be called that — “Song for Kim (She Said),” an instrumental “True II” (which is just the song “True” without vocals, but still effective), and even a cover — George Harrison’s “Beware of Darkness.”
[Fun fact: Concrete Blonde covered Leonard Cohen’s “Everybody Knows” for the Christian Slater movie Pump Up the Volume in 1990. Like Jeff Buckley did with “Hallelujah,” Johnette Napolitano and Concrete Blonde fucking crush “Everybody Knows” — she captures what Cohen never could… the dark, raw pain of the truth. Cohen was a genius songwriter but IMHO insufferable as a singer. If you have me over and want me to leave, just put on “Marianne.”]
By and large, this debut album has Concrete Blonde staying in its lane of rock, garage, and a dash of punk… they’re just doing it better than some of their contemporaries — who were primarily men.
With 12 songs, Concrete Blonde clocks in at about 43:00 minutes, and in the era of cassette tapes, that was the sweet spot.
And as if having a great voice and playing a mean bass wasn’t enough, she was also the primary songwriter. Today, we may read that and shrug; however, I assure you that women band leaders like that in the 80s, signed to a major label (okay mini-major label) was rare… not unicorn rare, but rare.
Concrete Blonde garnered some buzz at the time. Not just because they had a great sound, great songs, great energy, and seemingly a shit ton of attitude OR that they were led by a female bass-playing lead singer and songwriter — those were many of the reasons they got noticed.
But what gave them the ultimate seal of approval while still keeping their street cred was being signed to I.R.S. Records (I.R.S. = International Records Syndicate).
I.R.S. Records
I.R.S. was founded by Jay Boberg and Miles Copeland III in 1979.
Miles is the manager of Sting, The Police, and brother of Police drummer Stewart and music promoter Ian Copeland. All three seemed to have avoided following in their father’s footsteps.
[Fun fact: The I.R.S. Records logo, a shady-looking guy in a hat and sunglasses, always reminded me of the Mad Magazine serial Spy vs. Spy. And that’s probably no coincidence. The Copeland patriarch, Miles Axe Copeland, Jr., was a member of the C.I.A. With that kind of name, he was destined to be a spy… or a politician, and I can only guess Miles joined the C.I.A. to hide the skeletons that prevented him from being a politician… but I digress.]
I.R.S. was there at the dawn of both the MTV and college rock eras. And the label brilliantly capitalized on both, miraculously maintaining the highest level of commercial, industry, and street integrity.
The label soon became home to the bands that would help shape and define the MTV era (with The Go-Go’s) before mostly leaning into the burgeoning college scene (primarily driven by R.E.M.).
Some of the bands signed to I.R.S. included:
The Go-Go’s
The Damned
The Cramps
Wall of Voodoo
Buzzcocks
The Bangles
…and of course, R.E.M.
[Fun fact: It would be label mate Michael Stipe of R.E.M. who suggested the name Concrete Blonde because of the contrast between their hard rock music and introspective lyrics — a tip of the hat to you, Mr. Stipe.]
Despite the label’s influence, the I.R.S. catalog was limited to only a few gold and platinum records — The Go-Go’s Beauty and the Beat and Vacation, The Raw & the Cooked by Fine Young Cannibals, and every album of original music released by R.E.M. on the label:
Murmur
Reckoning
Fables of the Reconstruction
Life’s Rich Pageant
Document
Including gold certification for Concrete Blonde’s third album, 1990's Bloodletting.
The slog for Concrete Blonde to get to that 1990 gold album wasn’t an easy one… but it was a famous Australian band who astutely noted that it was “a long way to the top if you wanna rock and roll.”
In 1988, the band released Free, a solid successor to their first record. The album leads off with the explosive “God is a Bullet.” As a band from Los Angeles, the song ostensibly addresses the escalating gang violence, which was approaching its apogee by that point.
Through a modern lens, though, it’s almost too prescient:
They’re gonna call me sir they’ll all stop picking on me
Well I’m a high school grad I’m over 5 foot 3
I’ll get a badge and a gun and I’ll join the P.D.
They’ll see
Then in 1990 came Bloodletting. which would garner the band’s only Top 20 hit in the United States, “Joey” (peaking at #1 on the Modern Rock Charts.)
In her book Rough Mix, Johnette Napolitano mentioned that “Joey” was written about her relationship with Marc Moreland. The song serves as a nice bookend to “(You’re the Only One) Can Make Me Cry” off their debut.
The two songs serve as a seven-minute run-through of a relationship. “(You’re the Only One) Who Can Make Me Cry” is the beginning of a relationship:
Lots of guys can make me laugh
And show me a good time
Treat me nice and want me by their side
Lots of people call themselves my friends
And that’s alright
But you’re the only one I let inside
You’re the only one who leaves me warm and satisfied
And you’re the only one who takes me wrong and makes me right
Oh, and if you took your love away
You’d leave me high and dry
Cause baby, you’re the only one who can make me cry
“Joey” is the song where she turns her back and walks away from the relationship. Not because she wants to, but because she has to. Sometimes, it’s the last thing you want and yet, the only thing you can do:
I know you’ve heard it all before
So I don’t say it anymore
I just stand by and let you
Fight your secret war
And though I used to wonder why
I used to cry till I was dry
Still sometimes I get a strange pain inside
Oh, Joey, if you’re hurting so am I
The “secret war” referenced is about addiction; however, thematically, the idea of having to turn your back on someone you love resonates universally — addiction or not. That universality explains why the song was a hit and helped drive Bloodletting to be their best-selling album.
Right around the same time Concrete Blonde was getting some success with “Joey” and Bloodletting, Johnette Napolitano got a call to work with The Replacements for their final album All Shook Down… which was a Replacements album in name only (a story for another time.)
Replacements frontman Paul Westerberg had written a song called “My Little Problem” and always intended it to be a duet with a woman. Wisely, Napolitano was his first choice, and, luckily, she was available and agreed.
“My Little Problem” remains one of All Shook Down’s highlights. However, the recording didn’t go so well. Folklore is such that it forced Napolitano to pull one of the most legendary Irish exits in rock.
After being probed to re-record her vocal part repeatedly, she left saying she had to get cigarettes.
“It was done, but Paul wanted to do it again again again, and I ended up saying I’m going to get some cigarettes, and then I didn’t come back, famously I guess — sorry! But because it was done.” — Johnette Napolitano.
To paraphrase “Hungry Heart” from the scribe of New Jersey: she “went out for a ride and she never went back.”
When someone from the recording session finally called her hotel, they discovered that she’d flown back to England.
Concrete Blonde followed Bloodletting with Walking in London but was unable to capture the same commercial success. However, they did increase their fan base to include showrunner Shawn Ryan (The Shield), who would end up using the Walking in London song “…Long Time Ago” to play over the ending credits of The Shield’s series finale — a sweet pole position for a song, just ask Journey or Badfinger.
Concrete Blonde would release two more albums — Mexican Moon in 1993 and Concrete Blonde y Los Illegals in 1997 — before hanging it up.
And in the tradition of every great rock and roll band, they reunited in the early aughts, releasing Group Therapy in 2002 and Mojave in 2004; however, the band has been silent since 2012.
Of course, there have been live albums and greatest hits packages between and after, but (at least to date) Concrete Blonde has released eight studio albums, which is a pretty good career by any measure in music. More impressive is the commitment to excellence from the band and the fact that Johnette Napolitano kept her lyrics and voice incisively consistent.
Sure, once in a while, you’ll hear “Joey,” and it’ll take you back. But Concrete Blonde shouldn’t just be considered an old-timey rock band. Just because “Joey” may now fall into the “classic rock” paradigm, it doesn’t mean it is. Give the song a good listen; it sounds just as good and relevant today. Then go back and listen to Concrete Blonde, and that too will sound just as good now as it did then.
If you’ve never heard Concrete Blonde or anything besides “Joey,” you should, but consider yourself warned.
It’s a shame that not only one of the greatest female voices in rock but one of the greatest voices in rock and roll as a whole is mainly remembered for the one song — albeit a great song. But even worse is that perhaps she and Concrete Blonde are being overlooked.
Creating a body of work that transcends decades of shifting commercial tastes without losing any of its initial impact and power is no small task.
Concrete Blonde was many things, but chief among them, they were consistent in their sound… just as much as they were consistent in their excellence.