The question hit me after realizing that Road To Ruin was this writers' introduction to the Ramones.
It remains my favorite Ramones studio effort as well as my reason to continue buying any album with the words "produced by Ed Stasium" on it to this day. Released in 1978 - the same year as the Cars' first album - Road To Ruin marked a very real and noticeable sonic upgrade for the band.
For starters, Tommy Ramone, the band's original drummer and producer, had opted to leave the band. By replacing him with Marc Bell, a seasoned metal drummer with chops and swing to spare, the whole sound of the band seemed to fall into place. Bell wasn't just the spark plug that propelled this nitro-burning funny car of a band, but also the glue that held the band's highly combustible parts together for as long as he could before the band kicked him out for alcoholism in 1983.
Marky would return in 1989 for Brain Drain, but, by that time Dee Dee was shown the door, ushering in a dark period of commercial decline and creative stagnation.
All those years spent on the road valiantly trying to knock the door down between them and the mainstream audience that they and their music deserved, only to die before tasting any of the fruits of those labors.
While some members of the band were quite financially comfortable during their lifetimes, they certainly never got to see their music used in TV, films, and commercials to such an extent that you'd think all these songs had been hits back in the day, but they were most certainly not.
And it wasn't for a lack of trying. While Johnny Ramone's gaze might neuter an oxen at 50 feet, he and the rest of the band were amazingly flexible when it came to allowing Sire Records to throw them into the studio with any number of mismatched producers.
Instead of continuing to work with Stadium until he or they dropped, Sire immediately paired them with Phil Spector for what would become 1980's End Of The Century, a.k.a. "the Sha Na Na record".
It would prove to be the wrong move at the wrong time, sending the suits at Sire into a virtual tizzy regarding which completely oddball pairing to come up with next.
For Pleasant Dreams, the band worked with 10cc's Graham Gouldman, coming yup with an album that was better than it had an right to be, considering how much the band hated the sessions. Considering their bubblegum roots, naming Ritchie Cordell to produce Subterranean Jungle should have been a slam dunk. Instead, it was a slow motion subway wreck.
With new drummer Richie Ramone, the band went back-to-basics, or so it seemed.
For Too Tough To Die, the band had a come-back-to-Jesus moment with management and called producers Tommy Ramone and Ed Stasium in to salvage a sinking ship. Sadly, and quite inexplicably, this album bears no sonic similarities to Road To Ruin.
In fact, in a lot of ways, it was a lot like when Cheap Trick, having lost their way at roughly the same time, sought to stop the bleeding by reuniting with Jack Douglas,
In fact, near the end of Side One ("Wassat, Grampa?"), you actually hear synthesizers on a Ramones song!
Thing was, the song screamed "hit single", but it wasn't the Ramones so both the band's somewhat rigid punk fan base and the mainstream new wave kids who would have otherwise dug were left wondering why something felt a little disingenuous.
As if that weren't enough, the label shoehorned a Dave Stewart-produced slice of bubblegum full of glitzy '80s bells and whistles ("Howling At The Moon (Sha La La)" into the first slot on Side Two.
Admittedly a synth head already, I was enjoying the detour, but I knew it spelled commercial and critical suicide for the band. I couldn't believe they'd taken the risk and for what; a measly hit single?
Yes, a measly hit single that this band deserved back in '76 when "Beat On The Brat" was released as a single. Oh riiiiight, Sire never released "Brat" as a single.
It sure as hell seemed like the band and label gave up completely after Too Tough To Die stiffed because, for their next album, the band chose Jean Beauvoir to produce. Squeeze me, Jean who?
Despite being a former member of the Plasmatics (R.I.P. Wendy O.) and Little Steven's Disciples Of Soul, Beauvoir had never produced a major label project.
Now, admittedly, sometimes a fresh set of ears in the studio can be just the thing to help a veteran band get refocused for a new musical landscape. Having had their nose to the grindstone for almost a decade of non-stop touring and recording, how could you blame the band for having no idea which way was up in the MTV age?
At the time, this longtime fan viewed Animal Boy as a natural extension of Too Tough To Die, but, in revisiting songs like "Apeman Hop", "Eat The Rat", and "Animal Boy" couldn't help wonder if the Ramones hadn't just said, "Fuck it, we're a critter-centric novelty band!"
Oddly enough, the best song on Animal Boy was yet another song you could call novel: "Somebody Put Something In My Drink". Written by Richie, who was appearing on his second Ramones album, the song made perfect use of Joey's vocal croak from years on the road.
Despite sacrificing yet another hunk of their punk soul, it joined a growing list of songs that should have been hits then that have become almost household children's classics in the 30+ years since being unjustly ignored by most grown-ups.
Even with all this evidence piling up against them, it is impossible to be mad at the Ramones for wanting to be as big as Kiss. They both came out of NYC at roughly the same time and could easily have been mistaken for one another until one of the two traded the leather for make-up and moon boots.
Still not all that far removed from each another, one band would go on to be adored by every hot-blooded American male between the ages of 8 and 12 while other catered to an older, more discerning male demographic while pining for the younger, mainstream audience.
In hindsight, it seems ridiculous that it didn't happen then. After all, the Ramones were the coolest cartoon band to ever come to life, even when they were bending over backwards to please their label.
That they never had their own Saturday morning TV show, or even their own cereal, seems like kind of a missed opportunity for all involved. Just because I was too old for Kiss didn't mean I was too old for cartoons and a heaping helping of Cap'n Crunch.
Hell, I'm still not too old. Pass the milk.
And while a week barely passes wqithout another Ramones song appearing in a new movie or TV commercial, the fact that the original four Ramones never got to experience the level of popularity and acceptance that their music receives today does seem the cruelest twist of all in this tale.
Tags:
they want the airwaves