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By Root 429 0

almost in midchorus, signifying his recognition that even as he bitches at these new groups replacing him on fickle fans’ pinup walls he is not afraid to recognize that he too is some kinda temporary, just a buzz. He long ago gave up on being the Nazz. But who the hell wants to be the Nazz anyway? The Nazz is an asshole. Ian, harken to thy critics (we’re smarter than the muses): What you do best lyric/concept-wise is random, almost beatnik jottings on the current state of yourself and the passing melee. Meaning that even on your deathbed it’ll still be “Just Another Night” and I won’t be surprised if you’ll be caught writing a song about it in the very moment old we-know-who comes to call. At this rate you should be able to keep up the solid senders steady ‘nuff to turn out one of the grandest of our elder statesmen. Besides, hell, you were born old, and from the looks of things a lot of those sprouts on the pinup walls are gonna croak while you’re still out boozing around.

The Village Voice, June 4, 1979

The Grooming of

David Johansen

There's an important difference between “fashion” and “style;” it's like the difference between “normal” and “healthy. ” The norm is sick and the New York Dolls were abnormal but incredibly healthy; they had style, which is something you can only possess in and of yourself—it's originality, attitudinal distinction physicalized. Whereas fashion is just a bunch of assholes telling you how to dress and in fact conduct yourself in every area.

I loved David Johansen. I remember seeing him in the years between the breakup of the Dolls and his reemergence, hanging around the Bottom Line and CBGB's, always in that same little red hat and red suit, unfailingly cheerful, a wiseacre even, yet there was something touching in his unstated but manifest insistence amid the wreckage of the Dolls and the glitter albatross that he was Somebody, still a contender. Once in 1975 I asked him for his phone number, and when I unfolded the piece of paper and looked at it later he’d dotted the “i” in his name with a star, something I hadn’t seen since girls in my high school with names like Trixie ran for class treasurer.

We all loved him in the Dolls because he was a palooka with irony, and we loved him last year because his comeback album had an open-heartedness that made up for his hack band: there was real majesty in “Frenchette,” and “Donna” was simply an all-time classic song, a heartwrencher on a par with “Wild Horses” or “Just Like a Woman.”

What we especially loved about him was his naturalness. He seemed undiminished by having been through the music biz wars, still the cocky neighborhood pug who was also the nicest guy in town and man enough to show it. There was an ease about him which transcended rock ‘n’ roll even: maybe he was hungry, but he seemed to be riding the crest of career turbulence with a sort of Top Cat insouciance that marked him as a true entertainer. He seemed to do everything perfectly with zero strain, including being a sex symbol, and naturally the less effort you put into sex the sexier you’re gonna be. Some people said he couldn’t sing, but they thereby proved how little they knew about rock ‘n’ roll, or being an entertainer for that matter, because style and pure magnetism are talents that no music school can give you— like all the greats, he redefined the territory by breaking the rules. On Take No Prisoners, Lou Reed said “I’ve got enough attitude to kill everybody in the state of New Jersey;” David was a bad boy with enough heart to save everybody in the state of New Jersey, but he also managed to avoid the operatic gush and windy histrionics that’re Springsteen's flaw.

You have just read a list of reasons why I hate In Style.

I’m not even gonna talk about his concert last week at the Palladium because I think it was an off night, and last year he gave some of the best rock ‘n ‘roll shows I’d ever seen, so I’m sure he's got plenty more in him (in him; his band, well… hacks dressed like the Knack). There's something starting to happen here that's fascinating to the