Albums Revisited: Ramones Debut Album Turns 40: the album that ignited the 70’s punk movement on its 40th anniversary.
Saturday April 23rd, marks a huge milestone for punk rock: the Ramones self-titled 1976 début will celebrate its 40th anniversary.
The album, recorded at Radio City Music Hall (in the band’s native New York City), is rightfully considered ground zero for punk rock. They blended the rough edges of The Stooges and New York Dolls with 60’s bubblegum pop melodies.
The end result were economical tunes both aggressive and hummable. Like most musical movements, the group’s sound was reactionary: in this case, a distaste for ornately produced AOR rock.
A main part of the group’s appeal is summed up by the album cover: all four members in front a brick wall, looking like a gang of juvenile delinquent brothers in matching motorcycle jackets and ripped jeans.
That element was of course manufactured with surnames coined by bassist Douglas Colvin (Dee Dee Ramone), who along with guitarist John Cummings (Johnny Ramone), drummer Thomas Erdelyi (Tommy Ramone) and vocalist Jeffrey Hyman (Joey Ramone) made up the group’s classic lineup.
This gang-like aesthetic presented the group as lovable losers, but they were always smarter than the deadbeat act they put on, and songs like Now I Wanna Sniff Some Glue are gleefully tongue in cheek jabs at authority. Even their ill-advised use of Nazi references (on Blitzkrieg Bop and Today Your Love, Tomorrow The World) were haphazard goofs, devoid of any actual malice.
Unlike other punk groups who seethed anti-authoritarian rage, the Ramones were usually just having a laugh.
The Ramones début came out when I was 6, so it would take me awhile to catch on. Funnily enough, my first exposure was hearing their début lead track Blitzkrieg Bop blasting out of the family truckster during National Lampoon’s Vacation. It was only in high school where I was fully indoctrinated.
By that point they were already an institution, the go-to source for playful nihilism. And their début album, an instant classic, inspired countless bands. It’s somewhat astounding that it took 38 years to go gold (their merch always outsold their music). But their cultural importance can’t be underestimated.
If ever there was an album that sounds like late 70’s NYC, Ramones is it: each track evokes the city which spawns it: 53rd and 3rd describes a male prostitute killing a trick (inspired by bassist Dee Dee Ramones’ life on the street), while Beat On The Brat recounts vocalist Joey Ramone seeing a woman beating her child in a New York tenement.
There’s an palpable rotten Big Apple atmosphere volatility akin to early Martin Scorsese films (fitting given he’s directing their biopic).
While the group has a solid discography, they never deviated much from their debut’s template. With a sound that good, why would they need to?
Ramones is getting a befitting 40th anniversary celebration, including a deluxe reissue and “Hey! Ho! Let’s Go: Ramones and the Birth of Punk,“a swanky exhibit at The Queens Museum that runs through July 31st.
But there’s a distinct air of sadness that hangs over all the revelry. It’s very strange that the band that made this album, wont be there to enjoy it. They’re all gone. Three dead from cancer (this month also marked the 15th anniversary of Joey’s passing), the other to a heroin overdose.
It’s a sobering reminder that life isn’t fair, and immortality only exists in art. In that sense they’re forever frozen in time, with a punk legacy defined by their iconic début.
Every new band with tousled haired kids in leather jackets, ripped jeans and Converse high-tops owe their entire career to the Ramones first album. And if they deny it, they’re totally full of shit.