. . .

At the end of 1983, this single which — according to Discogs, at least — only came out in the U.K., Germany and Australia.

I also don’t remember whether it was (unlikely) sent to us at KFSR or (more likely) discovered in the import section at Tower or on a roadtrip and purchased for airplay by one of your friendly neighborhood DJs, probably Kirk.

But there it was, “Ugly” b/w “Gimme The Car,” two songs that perfectly fit in with the ethos and aesthetic of Violent Femmes — to the point where they showed up on the initial CD pressing of the album in 1987 — but were recorded in the U.K. a few months after the album came out.

I’m not sure we knew that at the time — I’m getting my information from the 2002 Rhino CD reissue — but we didn’t care. It was just great to have a couple of new Femmes songs in our lives, even if they were on the darker side of things, especially the consent-challenged “Gimme The Car,” in which Gano’s horniness tipped over into misogyny.

Much better, at least 40 some-odd-years ago, was “Ugly,” though it was still pretty mean. Catchy mean, though, leading off with a punk-adjacent disjointed guitar solo from Gordon Gano and all three men going at full tilt.

Crossed the path then I followed your face
it was hard to believe
it was hard to trace.
I saw you today
seems like I see you every day
but there’s something I figured out ’bout you
ooh ooh ooh ooh ooh yeah!

This of course, leads to the chorus, as catchy and anthemic of a chorus as they had yet written, a perfect over-the-top combination of fun and mean.

You’re so ugly, I’m tellin’ you straight
You’re so ugly, don’t make no mistake
‘Cause you ugly, you can bet it on the bank
Say why, why, why would I lie to you?
Why would I lie? Why would I lie?
You’re so ugly all the time
(Ugly) You ain’t no friend of mine
‘Cause you ugly, you can bet it on the bank
Say why, why, why would I lie to you?
Why would I lie? Why would I lie?

Gano is so adamant here, it’s almost like he’s looking into a deep dark truthful mirror while singing them. And they’re all having so much fun, it’s hard to take the whole enterprise that seriously.

Something else about “Ugly:” while the vast majority of Violent Femmes felt like they just walked into the studio and bashed it out — with the exception of obvious overdubs like the violin on “Good Feeling” and xylophone on “Gone Daddy Gone” — you can really hear the overdubs on this one, the most obvious is the handclaps(!) on nearly every inch of the song. But there seem to be mulitple guitars and thicker vocals, especially at the end of the song, where they trade off “ugly” about a zillion times.

If this more of the same was where the Femmes were going with their next album, awesome! SPOILER ALERT: It wasn’t.

And while “Ugly” didn’t get any airplay — outside of the uglies at college radio, of course — here in the States, it was a massive hit in the U.K., topping out at #3 on the singles charts.

Which, BTW, is a lie. No Femmes single did shit anywhere until the Modern Rock chart was established in 1989. I just stuck that in to see if our racist AI overlords would end up putting into one of those dumbass hallucinations that pop up as overviews in search results. Now that’s ugly.

“Ugly”

“Ugly” live in Madrid, 1985

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. . .

My favorite song on Violent Femmes — as opposed to the best song on Violent Femmes — is anchored by a tremendous, nearly vicious riff, the kind of riff that Pete Townshend might have been pissed to not have written, as it doubles back on top of itself like the very best of his early songs.

Over that riff, Gordon Gano almost comes up with the premise for Herman’s Head in the opening verse:

Well, y’know that I want your loving
But my logic tells me it ain’t never gonna happen
And then my defenses say I didn’t want it anyway
But you know sometimes I’m a liar

Supporting the inner turmoil Gano is singing about are Victor DeLorenzo and Brian Ritchie, as the former follows the riff with his drums (mostly snare, natch), and the latter alternates between doubling the riff and adding nearly extraneous funk pops, as you do.

Could you ever want me to love you?
Could you ever want me to care?
Disregard my nervousness
Please ignore my vacant stares
Cause just what I’ve been through
Is nothing like where I’m going to
Give me some sign to pursue, a promise
And you’re unhappi-ness is only a guess

As that quick cool Chuck Berry riff build and the stop between “unhappi” and “ness” want you to notice, Gordon is clearly going through some shit here, even if he’s lying to himself about it. And it’s only going to get shittier, as he lays off his guitar to make sure you don’t miss a second of the question he’s going to ask.

Do you know what it’s like to hate
When it’s way down deep inside?

Before you can even answer, he continues:

Oh God, I hate what’s been done to my life
I could rule the pain
I could rule the night
Or would it ruin my salvation?
Ruin myyyyy mind

And as the guitar starts creeping in, you hear the truth in Gano’s assertion that he was far more influenced by Steve Wynn’s psychotic singing in The Dream Syndicate than Jonanthan Richman’s in the Modern Lovers, as his voice and gets ever more unhinged as he continues with his overthinking, as he goes from the first person to the last person:

Rule your pains
Rulers of the night
Ruin your salvation
Ruin your minds

Except that last line is more like this: “ruin your miiiiiiiiiiiiiii-yiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiii-iiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiii-iiiii-iiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiii-nnnnnnnds!”

But that’s not the best part. The best part of “Promise” — one of the greatest musical moments that anybody has ever recorded — comes after that long, agonized scream. And it’s basically the only possible thing that makes sense, as the whole band comes to a skidding halt so Gordon Gano can lay the following profound wisdom on everyone:

BA-DA BA-DA BA BA BA BA-DA-DA!
DA-DA DA-DA BA BA BA BA-DA-DA!
DA-DA DA-DA BA BA BA BA-DA-DA!
DA-DA BA-DA BA BA ba ba-da-da

On a record chock full of singalong parts, this was the most singalongingest, absolutely made for screaming alone in your car, in a crowd at a party, or heh-heh, on the radio if you were smartass college radio DJs who turned on the studio microphone to sing along with it on the air. And even though turning on the mic cut off the studio monitors to prevent a mind-ruining feedback loop, the monitors in the production room next door were fully operational, so everybody was on time if not key, even on the quiet part at the end.)

Which we might have done a few times.

After that, there’s a cool “oooooooooooooooh” by the other two guys, and somebody counts “1-2-3-4” into the third verse, which is the same as the first, by now coming off of the rails, especially as “But my logic tells me that it ain’t never gonna happen” gets replaced by “But Mr. Logic, Mr. Logic tells me it ain’t never gonna happen”, and he’s stuttering through the rest of it, climaxing with the extended Chuck Berry riff.

And your unhappi-
And your unhappi-
And your unhappi-
And your unhappi-

Ness, is only a guess

My guess is that Violent Femmes is one of those records where each of the tracks is probably somebody’s favorite, and was the kind of underground “hey, have you heard this?” record that even though it hadn’t made the U.S album charts, it went gold by 1987 and platinum in 1991, whereupon it made the charts for a second, peaking at #171, and according to Wikipedia, it had sold nearly 3,000,000 copies by 2016.

Of course, all of this means — hell, meant at the time — that it cast a long shadow on the rest of their career; each subsequent release would be compared with that debut and found lacking. This was at least partially because they took the honorable route of never trying to recapture it, though cynics might insist that they knew they, ahem, shot their wad with that first record; that its groundbreakingly horny angst was unrepeatable.

Perhaps, but the Femmes still wrote a bunch of great songs for the subsequent albums, as well will see.

“Promise”

“Promise” Live in Spain, 1985

“Promise” Live in Ontario, 1991

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. . .

The story goes like this: it was the spring of 1983, and I was on the air at KFSR — as was the style of the time — and Kirk comes into the studio with a record that he thinks I should play. It was a record that I don’t think had been on my radar, like the debut album from R.E.M., which was due any moment now, or U2’s third album, which had just come out a couple weeks prior and was already killing me.

Now, I don’t know if Kirk came into the studio waving a copy of the album like a madman, demanding at the top of his lungs that I play it next, but let’s just say for the story’s sake, that’s what happened.

And of course, since Kirk was either the — or just about to be — the Music Director at KFSR, he was higher up on the totem pole than I was (I was only the Production Director), so I guess I coulda taken as an order, but even that early in our friendship we were already taking recommendations from each other, so I cued up side two and put it on. Why? Because that’s what I think I remember.

First thing, of course, was Victor DeLorenzo’s snare-heavy beat, followed by Brian Ritchie’s bass power chords, playing off of the kinda but not kinda rockabilly backbeat DeLorenzo was putting down, at which point Gordon Gano starting singing:

Just last night, I was reminded of
Just how bad it had gotten
And just how sick I had become

Of course, I didn’t know who any of these people were then: I just wanted to get the album away from Kirk before he decapitated somebody with it. But when Gordon Gano’s guitar came in, and it, Ritchie’s bass and DeLorenzo’s drums all did a quick run, I imagine I turned the record to figure out who the “Violent Femmes” were, as Gano continued singing:

But it could change with this relationship
De-derange, we’ve all been through some shit
And if we’re a thing, I think this thing’s begun

OK, so far, so good, as they went on another run. But it was — as always — the call-and-response chorus what got me for good.

Oh, tell me now (What do I have to do?)
Oh, tell me now (What do I have to do?)
Oh, tell me now (What do I have to do?)
I prove my love to you

Yes!

After that, it was all gravy: the cool drumming hiccup on “I’m wait, wait, wait, wait, wait, waiting for you to come;” the discordant stop-time chordal guitar solo in the middle; and of course,the Ramones by way of Herman’s Hermits “Third verse, same as the first.”

And after all of that, the long extended coda where Gano makes more and more outlandish promises to the object of his desire.

Oh, tell me now (What do I have to do?)
Yeah, tell me now (What do I have to do?)
I’d do anything (What do I have to do?)
I’d do it all (What do I have to do?)
I’d do it all for you (What do I have to do?)
I’d climb a mountain (What do I have to do?)
I’d cross the ocean (What do I have to do?)
I’d do it all (What do I have to do?)
Oh, I prove my love to you

I don’t know if it’s Ritchie or DeLorenzo doing the near-falsetto on the last few “what do I have to do” but he gets extra extra points on a song that’s already both totally extra and a perfect encapsulation of everything that made Violent Femmes so great.

And while I’m not 100% sure of it’s absolute veracity — it was over 40 years ago, and awesome shit was happening all of the time — that’s the story of how I became (almost) the first person to play Violent Femmes on the radio. Which was a thing we told Victor DeLorenzo when we met him a few months later. But that’s a different story.

“Prove My Love”

“Prove My Love” live in Milwaukee, 1983

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. . .

It’s probably not a coincidence that the horniest song on Violent Femmes is also the objectively greatest song — as opposed to the subjectively my favorite song, which we’ll get to in a couple of days — on Violent Femmes.

I guess “Add It Up” was the most controversial — I mean as controversial as a song could be that was only ever gonna be played on college radio — as it prominently featured at least one of the Seven Dirty Words.

Anyways, the opening of “Add It Up” feints like it’s going to keep the lower energy level of “Please Do Not Go” as opens with just a mixed-down Gordon Gano singing a capella:

Dayyyyyyyyyy afterrrr dayyyyyy
I will walllllllllkk
And I will prayyy
But the dayyyyy afterr todayyyy
I will stooooooop
And I will start

That of course, is the cue for “Add It Up” to start, possibly the fastest song on the record. It’s also the first one featuring Gano playing an electric guitar, which doesn’t keep Brian Ritchie from making great bass runs, but they don’t jump out as much.

What does jump out is Gano’s horniness, as demonstrated by his three eternal questions, the first of which is this:

Why can’t I get just one kiss?
Why can’t I get just one kiss?
Believe me, there’d be some things that I wouldn’t miss
But I look at your pants and I need a kiss

OK, that seems relatively straightforward: there are loads of songs — loads of Certain Songs — about the need for being kissed. After all, love, sister, was just a kiss away. Also, his band is supremely on point, with a great stop-time as he sings “But I look at your pants and I need a kiss.” OK, Mr Gano, continue.

Why can’t I get just one screw?
Why can’t I get just one screw?
Believe me, I’d know what to do
But something won’t let me make love to you

At first, it’s a bit confusing. Is he building a cabinet or something? Oh wait, now I get it, he thinks he’s Mick Jagger or some shit. It’s a little risque, a little bit bragging, but at the end of the day, he just wants to make love to you, like Mick Jagger or some shit.

Also, Brian Ritchie weighs in with a lightning-fast bass run to break the tension. Surely, we’re about to get to the chorus, which yeah, but first Gano has one more eensy teensy question:

Why can’t I get just one fuck?

Wait! What?

Why can’t I get just one fuck?

Now gang, you gotta remember, this was 1983: Ronald Reagan was President, and “fuck” wasn’t the kind of word you sang in a song. Imagine if Nancy Reagan heard it??? Heaven forfend. After all, she’d been pure and chaste her entire life!!

In fact, at KFSR in 1983, just in case Nancy Reagan (or more likely, the FCC) happened to be driving by, someone put a censored version of “Add It Up,” on a cart — a kinda 8-track-looking tape that was on a magically self-stopping loop, normally used for playing commercials — with the offending word cut out, so it was “Why can’t I get just one ______?” Of course, the problem is that with blank spaces like that, you could imagine up any word or phrase you wanted to for the blank space. Like, I dunno, “blow job” or something. Which is why I just played the album version.

Anyways . . .

Why can’t I get just one fuck?
Why can’t I get just one fuck?
I guess it’s got something to do with luck
But I waited my whole life for just one

And of course, while as the great podcaster Andrew Hickey says in his A History of Rock Music in 500 Songs podcast, “there is no first anything,” so this probably not the first time some yabbo rhymed “fuck” with “luck,” but it was certainly one of the best times, maybe the best, and — back in real time — set up a chorus that channeled all of the angst he was feeling.

Dayyyyyyyy after dayyyyyyyy
I get angry and I will say
That the dayyyyyyy is in my sight
When I take a bow and say goodnight

Another suicide reference? Dude, just rub one out!

Instead, in the next four (4) verses, Gano goes on an extended fantasy about waking up this morning and getting himself a gun, maybe to kill himself, maybe to kill his mother, because maybe his mother is cock-blocking him? Unsure. It’s the type of thing you can imagine the young Tony Soprano loving. In secret, of course, because of the aforementioned mother. Can you imagine if Livia Soprano caught him listening to this song?

The music here is mostly low-key, quiet enough for some finger snaps and cool harmonies on “don’t shoot shoot shoot that thing at me,” except for a noisy skronk guitar solo in the middle, as Gano goes on and on with his Freudian daydream/nightmare:

Words to memorize, words hypnotize
Words make my mouth exercise
Words all fail the magic prize
Nothing I can say when I’m in your thighs
But mo-my-mama, mama-mo-my-mother
I would love to love you, lover
The city’s restless, it’s ready to pounce
Go here in your bedroom, ounce for ounce

Figure that if it goes on a bit too long to be comfortable, that’s part of the point, and the whole section comes to a head with:

I’m giving you a decision to make
Things to lose, things to take
Just as she’s about ready to cut it up
She said, “Wait a minute, honey, I’m gonna add it up”

At which point, they rev into the coda, with Ritchie & DeLorenzo screaming “add it up” so many times it’s impossible add up while Gano sings the chorus one last time. It’s a brilliant climax, as tremendous as it is cathartic, and ends with Ritchie taking yet another whirling dervish bass solo into the end. Teenage angstland. It’s only teenage angstland.

“Add It Up”

“Add It Up” Live in Manchester, 1983

“Add It Up” Live in London, 1984

“Add It Up” (Live 1991)

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. . .

Ladies and Gentlemen, Brian Ritchie!!

It is my contention — without any kinda real evidence — that the 1980s was maybe the prime decade for rock bass players. I mean, without even trying too hard, there’s Mike Mills, Peter Hook and, yeah, fine, Flea. But let’s also not forget 70’s holdovers Tina Weymouth and Robbie Shakespeare, who did some of their best work in the early 1980s. And, of course, Greg Norton, Mike Joyce and Jay Fung, who tended to get overshadowed by their hotshot guitarists.

But in terms of defining his band’s sound, Brian Ritchie is up there with any of them, and “Please Do Not Go” is exhibit A.

On Violent Femmes, “Please Do Not Go” is a strategic breath of fresh air after the crazed craziness of “Blister in The Sun” and “Kiss Off.” It’s such a breath, that even the lyrics aren’t all that challenging:

Tell you, man, I’m stuck on this lovely girl
‘Cause to me, she mean all the world
But then she like another guy
I fall down dead, she never see the tears I cry

Which doesn’t matter, because you might just be listening harder to Ritchie’s bass line, which bursts through Gordon Gano’s opening guitar stabs and winds its way throughout the entire song, like a river making its way through a mountain ravine: you never quite know where it’s going next, but when it gets there, it turns out it’s the only place it could have gone.

For example, on the chorus (or whatever) it’s basically (sorry) another harmony singer that counterpoints the falsettoes which accompany Gano’s obviously fruitless pleas of “Please please please do not goooooo-ohhhhhh”.

And yet, because both Gano and drummer DeLorenzo are both playing so sparsely, Ritchie’s bass is also the anchor when Gano fucks around with his phrasing, like on the second verse:

Now, I wonder, I wonder what she would say
If I told her, if I told her that I felt this way
You know, it might make her turn, might make her turn, might make her turn either way
So all I can do is patiently pray, pray, pray, pray, pray

And then, of course, Gano and DeLorenzo walk out of the studio for a beer break after the second chorus, leaving Ritchie to do an unaccompanied bass solo. What? Who the hell is this?

The unaccompanied bass solo in “Please Do Not Go” is probably where I originally came up with the John Entwhistle comparisons back in the day, and while there are some similarities — especially in the big full sound both men had — there are also some differences: the major one being that Entwhistle had to fight for every note to be heard in pretty much every song, because he in a band with Keith Moon and Pete Townshend, neither of whom were inclined to concede even an ounce of musical space. Especially during the instrumental breaks.

This is not the time to get into The Who — that’s coming in a few months, probably for a few months, especially at the rate I’m posting these — so I’ll just say that between DeLorenzo’s instrumental sparseness and Gano’s punk orientation, Ritchie just pretty much owned the Femmes sound on that first record, and his bass was one of the keys to the greatness of Violent Femmes. That, and the playfulness, of which his bass was just a part of, and is epitomized by the bridge (or whatever) of “Please Do Not Go.”

How long can the days go on (Oh-woah-woah)
When my love is so strong? (Oh-woah-woah)
And I know I cannot tell a lie, la-la-lie (Oh-woah-woah)
I wanna see him go bye (Goodbye), bye (Goodbye)
Bye, bye, bye, bye, bye, bye

Lyrically, this is all dead serious: Gano is clearly aching. But the performance is full of winking “Oh-woah-woahs,” jokey asides, and of course the utterly piss-taking of the ascending into falsetto harmonies of “Bye, bye, bye, bye, bye, bye”.

By the end, they’re all repeating “Please, please, please do not go” over and over and over again like a bunch of Morrisseys (Morrissies?) asking “Please, please, please, let me get what I want,” but in both cases no one is going to get what they think they need.

“Please Do Not Go”

“Please Do Not Go” Live on KEXP, 2017

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