Buzzcocks:
A Long Way From Rigor Mortis

By Todd Weber

[Ames, Iowa November 1999] Most forty-something musicians that were in bands in the '70s are either dead, have real jobs or are in rehab for the fifth time. The few that still play might drag themselves out of bed occasionally for reunion tours to play songs that are as old as their hair implants and as fresh as that lone donut at the office that somehow lasted in the box through the weekend.

The Buzzcocks, however, are still cranking out new and exciting music and touring harder than ever.

"We just played 16 cities in 16 nights," says vocalist/guitarist and founding member Pete Shelley. "We'd never done that before, so we're still setting records. We're really enjoying ourselves. I can't put my finger on it, but we're having more fun than ever."

Formed in 1975 in Manchester, England, the Buzzcocks ran somewhat against the grain by crafting catchy pop tunes amidst the angry, burgeoning punk scene. They were virtually at the flash point of the punk movement in England, playing on early bills with The Sex Pistols, who were just beginning to cultivate their infamy, and other "first-wave" punk bands like The Damned and The Clash.

The Buzzcocks high-octane, Beatlesesque melodies helped define what would become "power-pop." More than two decades later, their influence is clearly audible in such million-selling acts as Nirvana, Green Day and Goldfinger. Shelley doesn't downplay the Buzzcocks' roll in musical history, but may be a little sick of answering questions about it.

"Well, I can't deny I was there," he says wryly. "People keep saying that the Buzzcocks influenced this band or that band. You know what they say, 'an immature artist steals and a mature artist borrows.'"

Whether borrowed or stolen, the Buzzcocks' sound is still selling records, as well as automobiles. Their classic tune "What Do I Get?" is featured in a current national television commercial for a sport utility vehicle. But don't look for Shelley to be retiring on the royalties from the spot any time soon.

"Yes, I've received reports of a few sightings of that," he says. "The first time I heard about it, I spoke to my manager and he didn't know about it. Then I talked to the publisher and he didn't either. And I didn't know anything about it."

With the ad, the Buzzcocks joined an ever-growing list of punk and other formerly underground bands to be honored in such a way by Madison Avenue.

"I think it's that a lot of fans from that era have grown up to the extent that now they have decent jobs," says Shelley. "Well, it's advertising, if you can call that a decent job. That's certainly debatable."

Having disbanded in 1981 after three studio LP's and loads of singles (Singles Going Steady, their 1979 collection of singles, is an absolute classic), the Buzzcocks reformed in 1989, and got a new rhythm section in 1993 for their well-received "comeback" album Trade Test Transmissions. Through the '90s they have continued to produce music that is more than worthy of their past.

Their latest release, Modern, is more of what you would expect from the Buzzcocks; cleverly crafted, caffeine-buzz pop with more hooks than the Celtics tossed up during the entire decade of the 1950s. The top five or six songs on the disk certainly hold their own with any of the classic Buzzcocks material.

"We're very proud of this record," says Shelley. "We've done everything on our own. We recorded it ourselves and we licensed it. We have complete control over the product. That's absolutely essential nowadays. The executives at the record companies are all just trying to hang onto their jobs. They're only interested in turning a profit."

After a quarter of a century of making music, Shelley views the business end as a necessary evil, but hasn't let it affect his creativity or enthusiasm for the "song."

"I tend to write songs in my head now. The ones that I remember are the ones that make it. If I remember them, I figure other people will like them. You have to have a good tune. If you have a few of those, there will always be an audience."

Thanks to the proper alignment of the planets and the willingness of my lovely wife Jennifer to solo with the kids, I was able to spend an evening out of the house and attend the Buzzcocks' recent show in Ames, IA. After an early evening basketball game, I found myself rushing to shower and load the dishwasher upon learning that show time was 7:00 and not 9:00 as I had thought. But with two other bands on the bill, I was confident I wouldn't be late for the main attraction.

I arrived at the Memorial Union at Iowa State University at about 9:00 and made my way to a room called the Maintenance Shop, one of the best live band venues in which I've ever been. I have witnessed terrific shows from bands ranging from the Meat Puppets to Bela Fleck and the Flecktones to Link Wray in the small, comfortable and intimate room.

As I walked down the halls of the Union toward the M-Shop, I heard a band I assumed was Down By Law booming and thudding away. The other band on the bill, The Lunachicks, is an all-girl band, and I was clearly hearing a male voice among the din. I fully intended to see both opening bands, and given my below average performance on the basketball court, I may have been better served to have announced my retirement from the game in the off-season, gotten the show time right in the first place, and parked myself behind a big beer at 7:00 for the entire three-band show.

I got to the door of the M-Shop and was just about to open it when I realized that I was supposed to be on the pass list. Since passes promised by well-meaning PR people actually appear only about 50% of the time, I hesitated going into the room. With the band playing at a higher decibel level than the space shuttle before a tune-up, I did not want to shout my explanation to the person at the door of who I was and who was supposed to leave me tickets and why I should get in without paying. I briefly considered just paying if my name wasn't on any list, but remembered I had only $20 on me, and the $15 ticket and the $2 I would need for parking would leave me very little cash for beer.

So I decided to wait out the set by Down By Law. (Sorry, fellas, but what I heard through the walls was kick ass!) I killed time with a long walk around the campus, not normally recommended in November in Iowa. But it was enjoyable this night thanks to the unseasonably warm temperatures. After I purchased and quickly consumed a Snickers bar, the band was finished.

Of course I was not surprised or disappointed when my name was not on the pass list, but I dropped a few names, mentioned my story on the Buzzcocks in Cityview, prominently displayed my camera bag, and I was in. As I got a beer and settled in on a good standing spot in the back of the room, I looked around and noticed that I was one of very few who was enjoying an alcoholic beverage. This was an all-ages show, and most of those gathered were closer in age to Kyle, my kindergartner, than to me. Many of the more daring little punkers who were decked-out in traditional garb even resembled Kyle in his Halloween costume of spiked blue hair, killer shades, studded wristband, drawn-on tattoos and an "X" tour shirt, only Kyle looked more authentic.

I moved down to the front, stage right and made a few last-minute adjustments to my camera. I was eager to see a band of such renown and that I had liked for so long, but I was trying to keep my expectations reasonable. If the Buzzcocks did not live up to the standards of punk greatness that they had set when they were in their 20's and I was in my teens, I was not going to be disappointed. After all, who could blame a veteran band that had never received just due or fair monetary reward if they were a bit road weary and bored with the rock-n-roll life?

But with four quick clicks from drummer Phillip Barker's sticks, the Buzzcocks were off on a 75-minute punk rock train ride that didn't stop long enough for me to rest my neck. Original members Shelley and Steve Diggle bounced around the stage and grinned like the weren't middle aged, and the jackhammer rhythm section of Barker and bassist Tony Barber anchored the assault. It was punk rock the way it was meant to be played; fast, loud, and tight with plenty of passion and exuberance. There was virtually no stoppage or banter, not even a "Hello, Ames," between songs; just four more clicks and another three minutes of pop bliss.

The Buzzcocks neatly weaved old songs with new and they all sounded great, even the few '90s songs with which I wasn't familiar. But my favorite tunes of the night were from the old days, and "Love You More," "Ever Fallen in Love," "Harmony in My Head," "What Do I Get?" and "Orgasm Addict" have probably never sounded better than this.

The relatively small and only mildly enthusiastic crowd never deterred the Buzzcocks' energy. This was a band that knew they sounded great and were enjoying being at the top of their game. Old punks probably do eventually die, but the Buzzcocks are a long way from rigor mortis.

Email Todd Weber

Todd Weber is the author of, Bedtime Stories, a humor column

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