Ramones - Ramones
If there is one song in the Ramones discography that best explains why god destined those four kids from Queens to change the course of rock music forever, it has to be "I Wanna Be Your Boyfriend." Some may raise an eyebrow at this choice since it's stylistically so different than the rest of the album. The buzzsaw is moved to the background and the warm jangle takes center stage. It doesn't rock hard like most songs on here: it's a sweet, melodious pop ballad. With practically all punk bands that followed increasing the stakes of aggression and message, why would I choose this to represent their greatness?
Because, to me, it demonstrates the soul of this band more clearly than any other. I mean, isn't it such a simple song? In fact, it's probably simpler than even the most straightforward of Beach Boys or Buddy Holly ballads. The melody is pretty, but hardly a marvel from a pure songwriting standpoint. No complex harmonization, no precision of craft, not much of a message, really. At least a song like "Little Deuce Coupe" would tout the timeless teenage pleasures of owning your own automotive vehicle. The most intelligent thing these lug-heads came up with was "What do you say? Do you love me, babe? What can I say? Because I wanna be your boyfriend." Most musicians would be ashamed of such banality of songwriting and probably throw in embellishments to add the necessary refinement to be taken seriously.
Yet, would any of those refinements actually improve the song? The songwriting is simple as can be, but you have to take a second to realize that because of its sheer emotional power. That riff is incredibly elegant in its austerity, oozing with warmth and feeling. Despite its lyrical primitiveness, Joey sings the song with the amount of conviction that Brian Wilson would sing his teenage prayers to god. The steady throbbing of the bass and guitar, together with Joey's soulful performance, slowly wrings out the emotional potency of the melody. There's no time wasted on any trivialities or nonsensical flourishes. The band wanted to record a ballad they thought would be as beautiful as could be, and why should there be anything more than focusing on that goal? Maybe the song is "moronic," but somehow, it manages to press my emotional nerves just as hard as "In My Life" or "God Only Knows." Primeval, yet unbelievably effective.
"Blitzkrieg Bop" became the anthemic powerhouse for the punk generation not by its social consciousness but by the honesty and fierce determination of such an approach. In the early 60s, the Who and Stones made their anthems by becoming voices of their generation, channeling the youth's intellectual and emotional spirit. Ramones didn't care about any of that. In their mind, music wasn't a societal statement: it was crafting spiritually exciting songs that would electrify their listeners. "Hey, Ho, Let's go!" Did they really need to say anything else to get such a message across?
This is why I feel most writing about Ramones misses their greatness. No, they did not think of themselves as revolutionaries. No, they did not want to engage in artsy deconstruction of pop music. No, they did not intend to murder the decadence of the mid-70s. No, they were not trying to become artistic heroes. No, this wasn't some sort of joke against the music world. A return to old rock/pop values is close to the truth but still not hitting the bullseye.
Ramones made the music they did because they felt that this is how rock should sound like, nothing more and nothing less. More than any other punk band, they LOVED pop music. Deep down, the Beach Boys, Ronettes, and early 60s pop music were their idols. It was they who valued melodic beauty, memorable hooks, and authentic emotionality, something they felt was lost in the glammy, proggy, funky "excess" of the mid-70s. At the same time, they loved the Stooges, MC5, and the rest of the proto-punk scene, adoring their relentless energy and the way they hypnotized listeners to dance to their brutal grooves. Armed with such influences, they wanted to focus on the values they felt made rock/pop music great: its beauty, fun, and energy. No unnecessary flourishes, no pretentious musical statements, no complex musical paradigms. It was stripping rock music down to what they found important and amplifying it to the max. That's all there is to it. Recharting the course of pop music was merely a byproduct of this goal.
Of course, those three values alone are not guaranteed to produce a masterpiece, but luckily for us, the band had enough talent to spare. Above all, Ramones were melodic geniuses, but not of the Brian Wilson/Paul McCartney variety that constructs elaborated ornate pop symphonies. In contrast, this record is a shining example of brilliant melodic minimalism, using meaningful but short and efficient melodic phrases. Each song on here has 1-2 hooks, simple but captivating. Even with this primal approach, those melodies were so gorgeous that they could steal your heart if you weren't careful, much more Beach Boys at heart than MC5.
Embellishments? Well, Joey would sing in his unique "street-soulful" manner, Dee Dee's throbbing basslines were the thick undercurrent behind each song, and Johnny would crack out the buzzsaw at all times. Yet, I would hate to call this uniformity a mere aesthetic. This wasn't necessarily a "signature style" as much as a method of making a song hit as hard as possible. Joey's phrasing would often become hooks within themselves, and Johnny's guitar and Dee Dee's gutsy bass (their secret weapon) would magnify the energy level to the roof. Each and every element would have to serve a clear purpose. If an element didn't create extra hooks and intensify the power, it was thrown out the window. Even the song lengths were cut to perfect efficiency: not a single one clocks in over 3 minutes and half of them are finished in under 2. Cut out the chaff, keep in the gold.
Surprisingly, this ground-breaking brand of power-pop was quite diverse on their first album, obeying the above principles but each song has a personality of its own. "Beat On The Brat" is vengeful, with every crash of the guitar and bass actually sounding like being smacked by a baseball bat. "Let's Dance" and "Listen To My Heart" are romantic and sweet, getting their message across in the most direct and heartfelt way possible (after all, expressing heartbreak doesn't need more than "next time, I'll listen to my heart. Next time, I'll be smart," right?). The riff of "Judy Is A Punk" has a knife-like property that cuts as deeply as any proto-punk classic before it. "Loudmouth" and "53rd & 3rd" are tough grooves, where Joey and the band threaten to knock the daylights out of anyone that messes with them. "Chain Saw" and "Havana Affair" have cute, funny stories, not very complex but strangely memorable. And "Now I Wanna Sniff Some Glue" is a shot of teenage rebellion about...getting high on glue? Stupid, but it somehow sounds authentic. The miracle is that each one is based on a very limited number of ideas, but they were damn sure that all of them were going to work and played it with conviction. Confident simplicity at its very finest.
Well, maybe one Ramones song tries to go for something slightly more epic in feel. "I Don't Want To Go Down To The Basement" is the most Stooges-influenced song on the record, reminiscing the brutal, terrifying sound of Fun House. Dee Dee's bass is unleashed as the melodic monster that it is, appropriating the riff of Bowie's "Hang On To Yourself" to beat the shit of the listener. The buzzsaw builds a hazy, murky atmosphere as Joey yelps to escape whatever horrors lurk down in that basement. All of the sudden, Ramones temporarily shed off their directness and engage in a tense musical drama, keeping your nerves constantly on edge. It is just as musically simple as the rest, but they must have realized the hypnotic greatness of such a groove and allowed the song to stretch out a bit longer than usual.
Sometimes, I wish this wasn't the case and punk music continued down the path Ramones charted. Though, I have to come back to my senses and realize that there's a reason this magic was never outdone. Sure, the regular "FUCK THE SYSTEM" style of most punk groups is sharp and respectable, but it is easy to do without any mystery to it. Anyone can stick your finger up and scream your head off when the time is right. It is much, much harder to be sweet and aggressive, beautiful and rough like this band could be, instilling bliss and rage inside me simultaneously. It is that enigmatic, elegant magic that moved the hearts of thousands in 1976 and opened up the next chapter of rock music. Most of all, Ramones showed the world the greatness of simplicity, that you can change the world if you stick to your guns and hyper-focus on what's truly important. Pretty inspiring, isn't it?
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