By Eleni P. Austin
In 1982, having just turned 19, I experienced a Punk Rock epiphany. I was attending a Clash show at the Hollywood Palladium (they were in the midst of a 10 date run there), with my pals Carol and Hovakim. The English Beat opened, and the sold-out crowd spent their whole set dancing frenetically to their infectious Ska sound. I paused for a minute, looking up, I could literally see a mix of body heat and pot smoke rise to the rafters. I knew in that moment, there was no place on earth I’d rather be, soaking up the feral energy and feeling a shared sense of community. I also knew I’d never forget it. I felt that same rush when I dropped the needle on the opening groove of the new X record.
X, in case you don’t know, have been Los Angeles’ premier Punk band since their 1977 inception. As much as the Beach Boys and The Doors defined the L.A. music scene in the ‘60s, and just as the Eagles and Fleetwood Mac embodied the laid-back L.A. sound of the ‘70s, X led the Punk Rock revolution that took the smoggy metropolis by storm in the late ‘70s and early ‘80s.
X came together when John Doe (John Nommensen Duchec) relocated from Baltimore to Los Angeles in 1976. He met Christine Lee Cervenka (soon to be rechristened Exene), a fledgling poet and Florida native, at a writer’s workshop in Venice Beach. They quickly bonded over their similar taste in literature.
John had already made his bones playing in Baltimore bands and was hoping to continue making music in L.A. He connected with Billy Zoom (born Stuart Tyson Kindell) via an ad in the classifieds. An Illinois transplant, he was a natural musician. His dad played clarinet and saxophone professionally during the Big Band era. By the time he met John, Billy was an accomplished multi-instrumentalist. Having arrived in L.A. a few years earlier, he earned his keep as a session player, recording with heavy-hitters like Big Joe Turner, Etta James and Gene Vincent.
Patti Smith’s Horses album had become a touchstone for John, at the same time, Billy was enthralled by the stripped-down sound of The Ramones. Exene had been accompanying John to band practice. When he asked permission to turn one of her poems into a a song, she agreed, but only if she could be the one to sing it. They sang it together, creating an indelible vocal blend on the spot. So, Exene officially joined the band.
The line-up was made complete with the addition of drummer D.J. Bonebrake. The only member of X to hail from Los Angeles, Donald John Bonebrake grew up in the San Fernando Valley studying Traditional Jazz and Classical music, before plunging head-first into the underground music scene. He earned his Punk Rock cred pounding the kit for The Eyes (which included future Go-Go’s guitarist Charlotte Caffrey).
X gigged all over L.A. playing outlier clubs like The Masque, Hong Kong Café, Club 88, Music Machine, Al’s Bar and Madame Wong’s before graduating to more mainstream venues like The Roxy and the Whisky A-Go-Go. At a Whisky show they met erstwhile Doors keyboardist, Ray Manzarek (he was there to see a different band on the bill). His allegiance shifted to X, once he heard their signature sound, which wed a Punky, primitive, instrumental attack to erudite lyrics and salted trace elements of Blues, Folk and Country into the mix.
They were one of the first bands to sign with the local upstart label, Slash. Their groundbreaking debut, Los Angeles, arrived in the Spring of 1980. John and Exene married that same year. Early 1981 saw the release of their stellar sophomore effort, Wild Gift. Both records received rave reviews in Punk publications and the mainstream press. The debut sold an astounding 50.000 copies, and non-stop touring gave them a presence nationwide. X became the first Punk band to headline the Greek Theater. Major labels took notice, and they inked a deal with Elektra (coincidently the same label that signed The Doors).
Two more albums, Under The Big Black Sun and More Fun In The New World followed in 1982 and 1983, respectively. Those first four efforts were deftly produced by Ray Manzarek. By adding his imprimatur, it felt as though he was passing the musical torch to a new generation of L.A. musicians.
X’s music pushed against the narrow confines of Punk. Their sound expanding the cutting, concise and somewhat nilhistic attack that characterized Los Angeles and Wild Gift. While …Big Black Sun and …New World adopted a Rootsier sound, embracing Rockabilly, Country and Folk, anticipating the Americana/alt.country (whatever) movement by at least a decade. John and Exene’s lyrics spotlighted working class issues, like the day-to-day struggles of poverty, addiction, politics and death. Onstage, the couple’s symbiotic vocal interplay exhibited the same frisson pioneered by musical soulmates like Johnny and June, George and Tammy, along with Gram Parsons and Emmylou Harris, Nancy Sinatra and Lee Hazlewood.
Critical acclaim remained consistent, but commercial success eluded their grasp. Although John and Exene divorced in 1985 their working relationship continued. X switched it up on their fifth long-player, enlisting producer Michael Wagener and drilling down on a heavier sound. Ain’t Love Grand rocked a little harder, but their fortunes remained unchanged. Frustrated, Billy Zoom quit the band.
Blasters guitarist Dave Alvin stepped in temporarily, a longtime friend, he had just joined John & Exene’s Country/Folk project, The Knitters. Their sixth effort, 1987’s See How We Are featured both Dave and former Lone Justice guitarist Tony Gilkyson. But Dave quickly embarked on a solo career. An incendiary live set, Live At The Whisky A-Go-Go On The Fabulous Sunset Strip was released a year later. Both John and Exene had remarried and started families, it seemed like a good time for X to take an extended hiatus.
They returned in the early ‘90s, with a seventh studio album, Hey Zeus and followed up with an acoustic live set, Unclogged. In the meantime, each band member extended their resumes via solo albums, new musical collaborations and acting gigs. At the end of the 20th century, Billy rejoined the band. When Pearl Jam asked X to open one of their world tours, a new generation of fans discovered L.A.’s trailblazing Punks.
In the last 25 years, X has spent most summers out on tour. They still exhibit the same combustible intensity on stage. These days, their audiences are a healthy mix of original fans and millennials. In 2015, they took a brief break from the road as Billy dealt with some serious health issues. But once he completed treatment, they were back on the road.
in 2017, the Grammy Museum commemorated a milestone anniversary by curating an exhibit entitled X: 40 Years Of Punk Rock In Los Angeles. 2019 saw the four-piece return to the recording studio, armed with a clutch of great new songs. Produced by Rob Schnapf (who has worked with everyone from Beck, Booker T. Jones, The Whigs and the late Elliott Smith), Alphabetland was released in the earliest days of the pandemic. For some of us, it was just what the doctor ordered. Personally, I fell in love with X all over again. Now they’re back with their ninth record, Smoke & Fiction. It’s billed as their “final” album.
The album kicks into gear with “Ruby Church” Careening out of the speakers at a furious clip, it simply crackles with authority. A bludgeoning beat collides with lanky guitar riffs and coiled bass lines. John and Exene lock into their trademark dissonant harmonies. Lyrics offer a cogent and poignant tribute to their late pal Paul Ruebens (a.k.a. Pee-Wee Herman): “You turned around in a lonely state of grace, you stood your ground, a smile upon your face.” On the break, Billy unleashes a pyrotechnic solo that scorches all that came before.
Three songs, “Sweet Till The Bitter End,” “Struggle” and “Winding Up The Time” display John and Exene’s paradoxical vocal chemistry and seem to touch on their storied romantic history. On “Sweet…” stacked and squally guitars descend like a pack of attacking Murder Hornets, bookended by brawny bass and a batter-ram beat. Trading verses back and forth, they seem to be describing the working relationship that has kept X on a steady course the last 25 years: “Only renting, only subletting, fences mending, just pretending, reality bending, signal sending, patent pending, just inventing.” By the chorus, the X exes are ready to ditch the diplomatic do-si-do and revisit the potent particulars of their origin story: “Let’s go ‘round the bend, get in trouble again, make a commotion, drink a love potion and then & then & then, sweet till the bitter end.” Billy detonates a cluster of guitar salvos the break, urging them on, like wordless Greek Chorus.
Pummeling drums gather speed on “Struggle, matched by gunslinger guitar riffs and pulsating bass lines. John and Exene’s sweet-sour blend wrap around lyrics that attempt to keep emotions in check: “A B C D E F G, me, me, me & me, all of those love notes you said you sent & you said you wrote are locked inside of me, I try to sing them free but I don’t have the key.” Billy’s spring-loaded solo jackrabbits through the break with a stealthy economy. The confessional chorus lays it all on the line: “The struggle is so real, the struggle is surreal, just a dream from the outside, keep your hands on the inside of the ride, the struggle is surreal.”
Finally, on “Winding…,” marauding guitar riffs ride roughshod atop breakneck bass lines and a hell-for-leather backbeat. The pair display a feral intensity as they split the verses, parsing past differences: “Is it fever, is it fine, is it real, or is it mine, was it siren, was it song, is it never, or is it gone.” Only to find consensus as their vocals coalesce on the chorus: “Winding up the time, turning up the loud, lost in the lost & found, sleeping on the blink, stars around my head, lightning on my tongue, sparkling hit & run, staring at the stars, howling at the sun, sawing through the bars.”
This record is perfect front to back, but two songs stand out from the pack, “Big Black X,” which is the first single, and the title track, “Smoke & Fiction.” The former is powered by blitzkrieg guitar, boomerang bass lines and a sledgehammer beat. Equal parts pocket history and Punk Rock manifesto, lyrics like “A big black ‘X’ on a white marquee, a naked Christmas tree on fire in a Cherokee alley, silent movie genuflecting dream, hangin’ off bumpers and scrapin’ off tar and leather, L.A. riverbed, drag strip on acid and something about a basement” offer a blurry snapshot of a burgeoning scene. But even then, the four-piece knew the score: “Stay awake and don’t get taken, we knew the gutter, also the future.” Exene unspools a litany of long-gone touchstones that are guaranteed to elicit a knowing grin from those of us around at the time: “Hollywood letters fallen down, Errol Flynn’s abandoned mansion, scary Hillside guy, angel-dust low-ridin’ by/We swam in the Pacific and Windward intersection, Vietnam Vet I met and cannot forget, Bikers on the 101 and 77 Sunset Strip, old cars and new scars, 78’s on cassette tape, after hours Blues escape, AM radio dedications Madison, Lincoln, any old city, a tiny ‘x’ on a white marquee.”
On the latter Billy’s rapid-fire riff-age ricochets through the mix, anchored by wily bass and a rat-a-tat beat. John shadows Exene’s blasé vocals. nearly camouflaging a 21st century cri de Coeur: “Through the smoke & fiction, books and pages burning, ashes of confusion, all the leaves are turning, I still talk a little bit, but there are no words for this.” A jaggy guitar solo pinwheels through the break, mirroring the lyrics tart fusion of cynicism and optimism. That the song ends with a final droning note of feedback, punctuated by a fusillade of drums feels wholly apropos.
Other magnificent songs include the restless farewell of “The Way It Is.” John’s tender croon is enveloped by reverb-drenched guitar, slithery bass and an acrobatic beat. This parting is as inevitable as the moon and tides, but on the final verse, Exene cocoons John’s lean tenor for a gimlet-eyed trip down memory lane: “We were never just kids, but we were pretty young, we did what we did, just to get along, that’s just the way it was, we fell down on the street, we did what we did to set each other free, that’s just the way it was, the way it’s gotta be.” Billy’s burnished solo is moody and melancholy in all the right ways.
Then there’s “Face In The Moon,” scuzz-crusted guitar partners with buzzy bass lines as DJ pounds out an insistent tom-tom tattoo on his kit. Billy’s skittery guitar receives as much bandwidth as John and Exene’s nettlesome vocals, as lyrics paint a scabrous portrait of present-day L.A.: “Floating down the Hollywood freeway, gripping steering wheel so tight, arms so long and head so distant, streaming through the blackest night…from the freeway to the skies, you get your way with a thousand lies, an ugly life that looks so pretty, stealing through this tin can city.”
See-saw guitars are wed to roiling bass and a basher beat on “Flipside.” John and Exene’s vocals tangle, as lyrics attempt to unravel the mystique of their sui generis alchemy: “Half-hearted sweeping up last of the question marks, the questions are always dark, the dark is so dark without your spark, your spark/On the flipside of you, everything’s blurry, I’m in no hurry, loaded & railroaded, empty & exploded, it’s always my turn to pay. The song rachets up the tension on the break as Billy rips a sparkly solo that hugs the melody’s hairpin turns.
The action never lets up and the record closes with “Baby & All.” Guitars split the difference between slashing power chords and sugary licks, brushing up against tensile bass lines and muscular backbeat. Billy’s full-throttle solo shapeshifts from Rockabilly riffs, dusty, Spaghetti Western notes, Hang 10 Surf guitar, distorto fuzz and twangy roadhouse Rock. But John and Exene get the last word in, offering a sideways genuflection to X’s loyal fans: “The stars out tonight, never burn so bright, from our perch above, we send all our love, as we start to fall, baby & all, baby & all.” It’s a rollicking end to a career defining record.
Although X has proclaimed this their very last record, in a recent radio interview on L.A.’s own 88.5 (KSCN), John and Exene admitted they assumed Alphabetland would be their last hurrah. Then they came up with a bunch of new songs. So, let’s all X fingers that we won’t have to say goodbye to this phenomenal band any time soon.
On their fourth record, 1984’s More Fun In The New World, with the song “Make The Music Go Bang” X pledged to “Bang, bang, make the music go bang, brilliant, shining and nasty, bang, bang make the music go bang, let me hear the guitar sound like a train, bang, bang, make the music go bang.” They have kept their promise and then some.
