David Johansen: A Musical Appreciation and Film Review
Apparently Martin Scorsese agrees with me. To be clear, I have never met or talked to him, but his latest musical documentary aligns with my long held belief that the proper way to honor a great musician is in life. As opposed to the obvious alternative. The documentary I am referring to is Personality Crisis-One Night Only. I will assume his co-Director, David Tedeschi, also agrees with us but — more importantly — I want to give him appropriate co-credit for a great film.
The setting/premise is simple enough and more appropriate than anybody involved might have imagined. It is just David and a small band playing in a throwback New York City night club (the Cafe Carlyle). It is so appropriate that it might be overlooked as an additional commentary on his career. David was never able to translate his talents to larger Rock venues least of all stadiums. I actually saw him open for The Who at Shea Stadium and it was beyond sad.
Despite being over 6 feet tall and at the top of his game, the Shea audience paid little to no attention and the house light were — as I remember it — up. I suppose this can be attributed to a Boomer audience whose musical tastes refused to advance past 1971. You like what you like and I can never fault that but don’t ask me to understand it. This is particularly true when the subject is David Johansen.
Was he the ultimate and original Punk rocker? Yes. Did he aim for a more diverse audience with his initial solo career? Again, yes. In either case, did he ever get a large audience of any sort on a consistent basis? Simply no. So the next question becomes why not?
There is likely no obvious or good answer. I suspect that the cross dressing made suburban males hesitant as regards Dolls fandom. Even more off putting was the heavy, gloomy and urban nature of their lyrics. Take, for example, this snippet from Looking For A Kiss: “When everyone goes to your house they shoot up in your room..I need a fix and a kiss”. Not exactly Rock and Roll All Night and Party Every Day.
Nor is it Tramps Like Us but it was the urban reality of the junkie life. Meaning that David’s songs were ever bit as realistic as the world Springsteen was describing at about the same time. By the way, I hear “shoot up in the wrist” not “room” in certain versions of the song which is an even grittier sort of detail. And it is those sorts of gritty urban details that large scale Rock audiences either didn’t want to hear or didn’t understand.
As a solo artist, Johansen aimed for a broader style or, perhaps, sensibility. That too fell on deaf ears. This would be around the time of his Shea set. One could, of course, believe that the fault was in subpar materials but I would counter that notion with a listener challenge. His first two solo albums, David Johansen and In Style are diverse, direct and dynamic. Street level versions of the Stones Some Girls only with overdoses and CBGBs as opposed to Studio 54 and cases of wine and some Puerto Rican girls just dying to meet you.
Rather then continue to try and reach an audience that didn’t want to be reached, David eventually tried to create an audience that suited the songs he wanted to sing. Moreover, he used a sort of gimmicky style that parodied the kind of artist that is trying to appeal to an audience. Specifically, the type of late 1950’s New York nightclub crooner that could give you a little Calypso, a joke or two followed by some Supper Club Soul.
Ironically, this worked. Well, in any case, it worked for one song, Hot, Hot, Hot. Which brings us back to the documentary, One Night Only. In it David refers to Hot, Hot, Hot as the bane of his musical career. I suppose a bit of frustration is in order there. At the time he was already a forgotten Rock legend, if such a status is possible.
Having failed to break through to a larger audience with his post Punk solo career, David donned a bit of a disguise and combined his talent for music with his talent for acting and became Buster Poindexter. And for some strange reason that resonated with a larger audience when nothing else did — at least for that one damn song.
It was easy then and even now to dismiss the whole thing as a gag and to a certain extent it was, except to the extent it was not. David was and is a living musical encyclopedia and he was able to translate that knowledge to a select audience though the Buster persona.
In the single stretch of one appearance or album, he could be Louis Armstrong, Ray Charles and/or Screaming Jay Hawkins with a little Harry Belafonte and lounge salsa thrown in for good measure. Despite all the glories or his solo career and the New York Dolls, this approach was something he could have never otherwise pulled off…and a grateful nation thanked him…kinda of.
The Hot hit was a just reward and there were a few other subsequent paying perks with Saturday Night Live and Disney, but the Poindexter schtick was rooted in the lounges and supper clubs of a bygone era. Meaning, David was playing in rapidly disappearing venues to a limited audience.
To give you a sense of what I mean here, I saw Buster in the late 1980’s at The Bottom Line. The place was packed and the show was — to this day — one of the best I have ever seen. David was funny and engaging. The band was top notch and included one — if not two — future members of the E Street Band. Midway through, drummer Tony Machine, jumped on my table and played my drink glasses.
The encore was a Buster led conga line through the club with everybody shouting Hot, Hot, Hot every time David asked, How you feeling? I would think it is rare that an audience leaves a show as exhausted as the performer but that night it was so. And for all that energy and effort, he never had another hit and The Bottom Line is decades gone. Meaning, Buster was doomed at some point because the national music and concert industry no longer supported this sort of material.
To make matters worse regarding the rest of his legacy, the Dolls are literally no longer plural and, in any case, their 2002 reunion had already run its course long before Sylvain Sylvain’s untimely passing. And yet David himself or Scorsese or the ghosts of Johnny or Arthur or somebody convinced him to give his legacy at least One Night Only as the film title suggests.
And when given the opportunity to film a valedictory summation of a legendary career, he didn’t choose David Jo the New York Doll or even just David Johansen the aging musicologist who personified an era and a city. Rather, he was Buster because Buster could sum it up and he could tell a story or two about those mean street early days without said stories turning morbid.
Case in point, in the film David humorously relates the Dolls infamous UK tour leaving out the part where their original drummer overdosed and died in a bathtub. Somehow, he can split the difference, seeing that there was some sort of larger point to the story and to what can also be taken as a profound tragedy. That was the New York of his era: Everything, everywhere all at once.
As to the songs, David stayed in Buster’s range and delivered a mix of the well known and the obscure but all of it first class, as in first classy: Plenty of Music and Lonely Planet Boy mixed with Frenchette and, of course, Personality Crisis. As befits his Buster range, the tempo of the songs are dialed back but it all works great. Perhaps that had something to do with his excellent backing band — no surprise there — which included guitarist Brian Koonin. Brian being a long time collaborator and producer of his best Buster album, Happy Hour.
Given the name of the film and its constant presence in his setlists throughout his varied career, you would likely think it’s a wrap when David/Buster plows through an energetic version of Personality Crisis. But there is an encore — or coda — of sorts. The final song of the film is actually Heart Of Gold.
Gold is an original number that David is obviously proud of. He has included it on both a solo album — Here Comes The Night, — and it closes the first Buster album. It s a great ballad and in another era, a would be hit. But David is too smart not to appreciate the subtle message about himself in the lyrics: I sure wish you would see something in me.
For most of David’s career he has been an underdog and criminally underrated. As of this writing, he is still not in the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame while Bon Jovi and Pat Benatar are. How can that be? Half the Hall has not had the influence in style, chutzpah and music that David and the Dolls had and have. It puts the lie to the entire Fame process but so be that.
To be sure, I don’t want to exaggerate any regrets David may or may not have as regards his career. In fact, he may have none at all because I don’t know him and I have never asked him. Nevertheless, I sense it when he said that line about Hot, Hot, Hot being the bane of his career or his being declared by VH1 as a one hit wonder twice.
That may not be regret but I think it is a recognition that his impact fell short of his intent. It certainly was not for lack of effort. For me that is an admirable quality and it endears me more to him as a person and artist.
Judging by the Buddha and Indian art that decorates the settings used as backgrounds for David’s interviews, you have to imagine he is very familiar with the concept of yin and yang. I mention this because at the end of the film a graphic comes up to explain that the Carlyle show was filmed just before COVID shut down all live music performances. Like so may points in his career, David was thwarted by cruel fate even when he was just trying to sum up the worth of his professional life.
So very unfair. But selfishly, I got to see him live twice and I own most of his albums. If you are unfamiliar with him, you certainly can choose to continue that state but why? Why not enjoy some kick ass music for every conceivable mood you might be in? With all my heart David, thank you.
