100 Club, London
Monday 14th June 2010
The stairs down to the entrance of the subterranean 100 Club were in pitch blackness. I’d been
invited down early by the press agent, dropped his name at the box office and wandered in an hour
before the doors opened. Pushing open the heavy double doors in the dark the light flooded my
eyes and there in front of me onstage were Joan Jett and the Black Hearts in full flow, sound
checking at the empty venue. It was like one of those surreal timeslip scenes from Life On Mars – it
felt unreal, like stepping into 1981. The 100 Club seemed three times the size with the lights on.
Bar staff were setting up, various people were stood around stabbing at there mobiles and the
music was loud, crystal clear, perfect rock’n’roll framing Jetts commanding yet effortless vocals.
I was transfixed. When the song finished a tanned, hunch-shouldered older guy, over sixty for sure,
marched off the stage grimacing, “It’s too godamn loud”, he said heading for the dressing room in the corner. “Its fine” said a husky female voice and a four foot
nine blur of black hair, white skin, black clothes walked across the screen, I mean, my field of vision. She walked like an athlete, cut me a withering glance as if to say
‘Whatchoo staring at?’ and headed to the back room. The rest of the band started up one of the finest versions of 'Pipeline' I’d ever heard, and I decided against saying
‘Hi Joan’. You should never meet your heroes anyway.
Joan Jett is shorter than you imagine, even though you know she’s short and petite. She is tiny, but muscular and without stage make-up does have the vampiric look of a Megastar
like (I hate to say) Michael Jackson or Liza Minnelli – only less cadaverous and more glamorous, with deathly white skin stretched tight over bone and seemingly permanently eye-
linered eyes. Later on stage and spot-lit she does look absolutely beautiful and ageless, her smile, blood red painted lips/gleaming new white teeth, is dazzling. Every one in the room
is captivated by her. She looks the business. She does the business.
Kenny Laguna, Jetts business partner and keyboard-player is a ‘stressy’ grouch. He looks like Woody Allen carved out of a giant Redwood and would make a great Simpsons
character. He has that brillo-pad comb-over and he shouts at his Black Heart Records staff, both beautiful, tough-cookie, Italian-American women, a lot. They are used to him it
seems and he is ‘always like that’. Later, when the place is filling up and DJ Alleycat spinning some tunes, he’s having another mini-tantrum. I ask him what is wrong.
“We specifically asked that the DJ should play punk-rock, glam rock and NOT that kinda music – She played Def Leppard for chrissakes –Joan’s not happy – nothing wrong with Def
Leppard, nice people, they are our friends, but we don’t wanna hear them tonight!”
A little later, one of the 100 Clubs genial security staff is carrying a semi-conscious teenage girl out of the ‘backstage area’ after meeting Jett. What had happened – what had Joan
done to her? Had she mentioned Bon Jovi and Jett lashed out? No. The girl had fainted on meeting her hero(ine). See, I told you that you should never meet …
The place slowly filled between half seven and nine. Old
punk/rocker couples, gaggles of gay girls, over-50 rock dudes,
trendy young darling-mwah, mwah couples… a really mixed
crowd of Jett followers and a couple of great look-a-likes. The
excitement built and built. Would Green Day turn up? (They
didn’t) Would they sell many t-shirts at £20 a go (they did sell
loads). Would they really play the anticipated two-hour set? (the
heat/lack of air got unbearable so they did a full ninety minutes
which was plenty.)
Lurking side stage prior to Showtime I caught sight of Thommy
Price – Black Hearts drummer of some eighteen years and
sticks man for Mink Deville, Billy Idol and Hanoi Rocks in his
time. I asked him if the Cheetah Chrome, Sylvain Sylvain band
he played with, Batusis would be coming to the UK? Maybe in
September. We chatted a bit and we laughed about how Mike
Monroes from Hanoi Rocks eyes seem to bulge out of his head
nowadays in a very Marty Feldman kinda way. Then he had to
go… Showtime!
No intro tape, no fuss or introduction just Wham! 'Bad
Reputation' – bullet fast and Ramone-like in its beauty.
“Howyadoin’ London?” hollered just before the guitar solo.
Then, with barely a space for breath, an explosive 'Cherry Bomb'
– with grinning lesbians and wrinkled punks singing along and
punching the air. There are very few bands that can boast an
opening couple of songs as breath-takingly punk and indeed
Rawk! 'Light of Day' keeps up the momentum and then a huge
roar of approval for 'Do Ya Wanna Touch Me' as the drums
establish the Glitterstomp. Personally I’m not enamoured of
Joan’s Glitter covers, irrespective of his crimes, the songs just
seem dated - but I seemed to be in a minority of one. Change the World ups the pace and in it you can hear L7, the Distillers and Courtney all
being echoed when they actually took from the originator. The Replacements 'Androgynous' is a sheer delight to hear live. It goes down a
storm with the girls – many of whom are stood on chairs at the back to catch a glimpse of the diminutive Jett as she winks at the chicks at the front.
Jett should do a Country flavoured album. “The first song I ever wrote” was next the Runaways 'You Drive me Wild' – a boogie-rock monster
made of cheese! During 'Backlash' I nip for a fag, an consequently miss the opening of 'Victim of Circumstance' cursing my weakness as it’s a
blinding version – really Thunders-y with guitarist Needle’s playing on fire. The following 'Love Is Pain', 'I Love Playing With Fire' and 'Naked' are
triumphant and rockin’. By this time everyone in the place is soaked with sweat, cookin’. When the introduction to 'School Days' kicks in I’m in
heaven…I could go on, but I’ll just say that the version of 'ACDC' that kicked-off the encore was the most rampant, energised bit of rock music
I’ve heard all year.
Every review, blog account and first-hand re-telling will tell you that this was a truly astounding gig – and it was. A stadium-sized performance
trapped in a 300 capacity room with no air-con, like a tornado in a bottle. A band who logically should be well-past their prime – but are totally
on-top-form and still playing the essence of rock’n’roll in great big dumb, corny bite-sized chunks. Too punk to be metal to trad to be pure punk.
A combination of pop, glam, punk, rock, blues, with a touch of Spector Girl-Group and Country Rock. All held together by the indominatable,
inimitable Jett – a Female Rock Icon with no equal (Chrissie Hynde – pah!) She relishes being onstage, winking, flicking plectrums into the crowd,
posing and holding her guitar like a weapon.
After the show she sat out side the dressing room and signed autographs and chatted to fans for an hour as they formed an ordely queue.
Kenny Laguna was installed at the bar with a young Jett lookalike chatting to him, at last smiling…. In fact, everyone was smiling having been at
probably the hottest rock show of the year.
Words: Ged Babey
Pics : © John Rahim
Monday 14th June 2010
The stairs down to the entrance of the subterranean 100 Club were in pitch blackness. I’d been
invited down early by the press agent, dropped his name at the box office and wandered in an hour
before the doors opened. Pushing open the heavy double doors in the dark the light flooded my
eyes and there in front of me onstage were Joan Jett and the Black Hearts in full flow, sound
checking at the empty venue. It was like one of those surreal timeslip scenes from Life On Mars – it
felt unreal, like stepping into 1981. The 100 Club seemed three times the size with the lights on.
Bar staff were setting up, various people were stood around stabbing at there mobiles and the
music was loud, crystal clear, perfect rock’n’roll framing Jetts commanding yet effortless vocals.
I was transfixed. When the song finished a tanned, hunch-shouldered older guy, over sixty for sure,
marched off the stage grimacing, “It’s too godamn loud”, he said heading for the dressing room in the corner. “Its fine” said a husky female voice and a four foot
nine blur of black hair, white skin, black clothes walked across the screen, I mean, my field of vision. She walked like an athlete, cut me a withering glance as if to say
‘Whatchoo staring at?’ and headed to the back room. The rest of the band started up one of the finest versions of 'Pipeline' I’d ever heard, and I decided against saying
‘Hi Joan’. You should never meet your heroes anyway.
Joan Jett is shorter than you imagine, even though you know she’s short and petite. She is tiny, but muscular and without stage make-up does have the vampiric look of a Megastar
like (I hate to say) Michael Jackson or Liza Minnelli – only less cadaverous and more glamorous, with deathly white skin stretched tight over bone and seemingly permanently eye-
linered eyes. Later on stage and spot-lit she does look absolutely beautiful and ageless, her smile, blood red painted lips/gleaming new white teeth, is dazzling. Every one in the room
is captivated by her. She looks the business. She does the business.
Kenny Laguna, Jetts business partner and keyboard-player is a ‘stressy’ grouch. He looks like Woody Allen carved out of a giant Redwood and would make a great Simpsons
character. He has that brillo-pad comb-over and he shouts at his Black Heart Records staff, both beautiful, tough-cookie, Italian-American women, a lot. They are used to him it
seems and he is ‘always like that’. Later, when the place is filling up and DJ Alleycat spinning some tunes, he’s having another mini-tantrum. I ask him what is wrong.
“We specifically asked that the DJ should play punk-rock, glam rock and NOT that kinda music – She played Def Leppard for chrissakes –Joan’s not happy – nothing wrong with Def
Leppard, nice people, they are our friends, but we don’t wanna hear them tonight!”
A little later, one of the 100 Clubs genial security staff is carrying a semi-conscious teenage girl out of the ‘backstage area’ after meeting Jett. What had happened – what had Joan
done to her? Had she mentioned Bon Jovi and Jett lashed out? No. The girl had fainted on meeting her hero(ine). See, I told you that you should never meet …
The place slowly filled between half seven and nine. Old
punk/rocker couples, gaggles of gay girls, over-50 rock dudes,
trendy young darling-mwah, mwah couples… a really mixed
crowd of Jett followers and a couple of great look-a-likes. The
excitement built and built. Would Green Day turn up? (They
didn’t) Would they sell many t-shirts at £20 a go (they did sell
loads). Would they really play the anticipated two-hour set? (the
heat/lack of air got unbearable so they did a full ninety minutes
which was plenty.)
Lurking side stage prior to Showtime I caught sight of Thommy
Price – Black Hearts drummer of some eighteen years and
sticks man for Mink Deville, Billy Idol and Hanoi Rocks in his
time. I asked him if the Cheetah Chrome, Sylvain Sylvain band
he played with, Batusis would be coming to the UK? Maybe in
September. We chatted a bit and we laughed about how Mike
Monroes from Hanoi Rocks eyes seem to bulge out of his head
nowadays in a very Marty Feldman kinda way. Then he had to
go… Showtime!
No intro tape, no fuss or introduction just Wham! 'Bad
Reputation' – bullet fast and Ramone-like in its beauty.
“Howyadoin’ London?” hollered just before the guitar solo.
Then, with barely a space for breath, an explosive 'Cherry Bomb'
– with grinning lesbians and wrinkled punks singing along and
punching the air. There are very few bands that can boast an
opening couple of songs as breath-takingly punk and indeed
Rawk! 'Light of Day' keeps up the momentum and then a huge
roar of approval for 'Do Ya Wanna Touch Me' as the drums
establish the Glitterstomp. Personally I’m not enamoured of
Joan’s Glitter covers, irrespective of his crimes, the songs just
seem dated - but I seemed to be in a minority of one. Change the World ups the pace and in it you can hear L7, the Distillers and Courtney all
being echoed when they actually took from the originator. The Replacements 'Androgynous' is a sheer delight to hear live. It goes down a
storm with the girls – many of whom are stood on chairs at the back to catch a glimpse of the diminutive Jett as she winks at the chicks at the front.
Jett should do a Country flavoured album. “The first song I ever wrote” was next the Runaways 'You Drive me Wild' – a boogie-rock monster
made of cheese! During 'Backlash' I nip for a fag, an consequently miss the opening of 'Victim of Circumstance' cursing my weakness as it’s a
blinding version – really Thunders-y with guitarist Needle’s playing on fire. The following 'Love Is Pain', 'I Love Playing With Fire' and 'Naked' are
triumphant and rockin’. By this time everyone in the place is soaked with sweat, cookin’. When the introduction to 'School Days' kicks in I’m in
heaven…I could go on, but I’ll just say that the version of 'ACDC' that kicked-off the encore was the most rampant, energised bit of rock music
I’ve heard all year.
Every review, blog account and first-hand re-telling will tell you that this was a truly astounding gig – and it was. A stadium-sized performance
trapped in a 300 capacity room with no air-con, like a tornado in a bottle. A band who logically should be well-past their prime – but are totally
on-top-form and still playing the essence of rock’n’roll in great big dumb, corny bite-sized chunks. Too punk to be metal to trad to be pure punk.
A combination of pop, glam, punk, rock, blues, with a touch of Spector Girl-Group and Country Rock. All held together by the indominatable,
inimitable Jett – a Female Rock Icon with no equal (Chrissie Hynde – pah!) She relishes being onstage, winking, flicking plectrums into the crowd,
posing and holding her guitar like a weapon.
After the show she sat out side the dressing room and signed autographs and chatted to fans for an hour as they formed an ordely queue.
Kenny Laguna was installed at the bar with a young Jett lookalike chatting to him, at last smiling…. In fact, everyone was smiling having been at
probably the hottest rock show of the year.
Words: Ged Babey
Pics : © John Rahim
Joan Jett & The Blackhearts
Setlist:
1. Bad Reputation
2. Cherry Bomb
3. Light Of Day
4. Do Ya Wanna Touch Me?
5. Change The World
6. Androgynous
7. You Drive Me Wild
8. Backlash
9. Victim Of Circumstance
10. Love Is Pain
11. I Love Playing With Fire
12. Naked
13. Fake Friends
14. School Days
15. Fetish
16. I Love Rock N' Roll
17. Crimson & Clover
18. I Hate Myself For Loving You
Encore:
19. A.C.D.C.
20. The French Song
21. Everyday People
Setlist:
1. Bad Reputation
2. Cherry Bomb
3. Light Of Day
4. Do Ya Wanna Touch Me?
5. Change The World
6. Androgynous
7. You Drive Me Wild
8. Backlash
9. Victim Of Circumstance
10. Love Is Pain
11. I Love Playing With Fire
12. Naked
13. Fake Friends
14. School Days
15. Fetish
16. I Love Rock N' Roll
17. Crimson & Clover
18. I Hate Myself For Loving You
Encore:
19. A.C.D.C.
20. The French Song
21. Everyday People
