Crash & Burn

Oh the mid 70's and the birth of punk. I remember it well.

It started inauspiciously. A short article in Circus Magazine heralded the impending release of the debut album by The Ramones. They said it only cost the band a few thousand dollars to make, contain a shitload of songs but clocked in at under 30 minutes and was filled with unrelenting, guitar-driven rock and roll. I bought in and bought the album the day it came out. The disappointment is still fresh in my mind. As much as I liked "Beat On The Brat" and "Judy Is A Punk Rocker," I still needed guitar solos. I thought it sucked.

Six months later I knew much more about the Punk movement and had read about The Ramones' influential shows at The Roundhouse in London. I gained an appreciation for what was going on and when my sister announced her own impending trip to England, I handed her a list of singles that I wanted her to bring back. She returned from the UK with an amended stack. The Sex Pistols singles were banned from sale and weren't available but the guy behind the counter recommended this new group, The Clash, and sold her their first single, "1977." I was not disappointed.

By the following Halloween we had heard the debut from The Damned but were particularly anxious for the release of Never Mind The Bollocks. I bought the import (with it's florescent pink cover) and ended up spinning it over and over again at my sister's Halloween party. The natives were restless and it was the perfect tonic for the evening.

The punk scene in Toronto was flourishing now. The Diodes opened their own club called Crash and Burn that was in the basement of my dad's sock factory. The Viletones tried to be this city's Sex Pistols with Steven Leckie doing his best Sid Vicious impersonation. But, try as he might, he just came across as a big poseur. The Poles were our Siouxsie and the Banshees and Teenage Head did their best Damned impersonation thanks to Frankie Venom.

Bowie played piano in the shadows while Iggy owned the stage at The Field House at Seneca College. Blondie opened the show. But the last great punk show in Toronto had to be the night The Ramones played the New Yorker on the Rocket To Russia tour. The Deadboys opened the show and Stiv Bators threw up his beer mid-set. We Gabba Gabba Hey'd the night away.

It started with The Ramones and it ended with The Ramones. Don't let anyone tell you any different.