Once upon a time in a far off kingdom lived four young princes all called Ramone. Johnny, Joey, Dee Dee, and Tommy lived in the principality of Queens, and like all young stalwarts dreamed of performing great feats of daring-do. They decided they would take up arms in the war for the hearts and minds of the people of their fair realm and become rock and roll musicians.
Now, in the dark days of the early 1970s, rock and roll music and those who played it were committing the cardinal sin: taking themselves seriously. Instead of playing for their audiences, regressive, progressive musicians acted like the audiences should be grateful they were allowed to listen to them.
The Ramones saw this and knew it was not right. Their path was clear; they would take up the cudgel of the "less then three minute pop song" and beat the oppressive, regressive progressives roundly about the chops and send them packing. The people would rejoice and freedom would reign once again in the world of rock and roll.
The Ramones knew their battle would not be an easy one. Their road would be fraught with difficulty and they would face many challenges they could not anticipate. Drunk sound men intent on rendering their vocals incomprehensible and making their instruments sound like mud; devious bar owners who would hold back on their fair recompense; and blinkered record executives who wouldn't understand what they were listening to was only some of what they could expect to deal with. But deal with it, they did.
So it came to pass that in 1974 the four princes of punk donned their armour of black leather, ripped t-shirts, and black stove pipe jeans. They armed themselves with guitar, bass, drums, and attitude and set forth on their crusade. Over the next two decades, in concerts spanning the known world, they spread the gospel according to the Ramones: 1) There is no speed but fast, except maybe faster; 2) Why play two chords when one will do; and 3) When in doubt play louder and faster.
It seems like only yesterday you couldn't turn around without seeing a Ramone clone. Those young men and women slavishly adhered to the dress code espoused by their heroes as a mark of their devotion to the tenets of the band could be seen on the streets of every major city in North America. But those days are past and until recently all we had were our memories and CDs to remind us of the days when punk was young and fun.
Article comments