Foreword: Everyone that knows me
personally knows that this is definitely the most influential album to me as a
musician, writer, and individual. Granted that the 40th anniversary edition LP
came out last November, it’s fitting that someone should bring this album up to
speed with the current generation. You may see this piece and feel that the
length of it is daunting, so I headed a paragraph in bold if you want to get
straight into the album analysis.
From
left to right: Bob Quine (guitar), Richard Hell (bass, vocals), Marc Bell aka
“Marky Ramone (drums), Ivan Julien (guitar)
Blank Generation is the debut studio
album from the band Richard Hell & The Voidoids in September 1977 under
Sire Records. The Voidoids were an offspring of the breeding grounds of the early
CBGB club scene in New York. Although they didn’t break through on through to
the other side of the mainstream platform like other members of the scene such
as Blondie and The Ramones, The Voidoids held more influence on the development
of the early punk movement with their sonic attacks, vivid and symbolic poetry,
and the look of torn and safety-pinned together clothing Richard so often
sported. As underground and subversive as the CBGB musical movement was, Blank Generation is one of the albums
from the era that has cemented itself into the lives of the musicians who
simply don’t give a damn about sounding perfect, the poets who are compelled to
write about the flashing images in their souls, and others who voraciously seek
something beneath the surface of what they encounter.
Track
Listing:
- “Love
Comes In Spurts”
- “Liars
Beware”
- “New
Pleasure”
- “Betrayal
Takes Two”
- “Down
at the Rock and Roll Club”
- “Who
Says? (It’s Good To Be Alive)”
- “Blank
Generation”
- “Walking
On The Water” (Originally by Creedence Clearwater Revival)
- “The
Plan”
- “Another
World”
Now
since this is an assignment for AP English and not an article for Rolling Stone
or Creem Magazine, the analysis of this album will focus more on the lyrical
content and literary devices present within the songs. I’m refraining from
going off on a whole ramble about the free-form style, the peculiar atonal
loveliness of Bob Quine’s guitar playing and Richard’s voice but I implore you
to listen to this album if you are looking for the refined mess of punk
inspired by jazz, garage rock, and more. You
won’t regret it.
The
poetic influences on Richard Hell in writing these lyrics are entirely varied
throughout genres and generations, but are primarily rooted in the influence of
French symbolist poet Arthur Rimbaud . For example, the name “Hell” isn’t there
to sound edgier than his actual name Richard Meyers, but is taken from the
prose piece “A Season In Hell” (this is one of Rimbaud’s most profound works
that touches on existentialist undertones and is highly recommended for all who
embrace harsh poetry and philosophy) that is littered with complex diction and
syntax to evoke tones of resigned, fatalistic hopelessness. This highly
provocative piece is somewhat autobiographical to Rimbaud, a technique that Hell
commonly used within his poems and lyrics. It is undeniable that the French
symbolist movement of literature is evident in his writing.
Now, onto the actual portion where the album is analyzed.
For sake of length and your attention, “Love Comes In Spurts”, “Who Says?”, and
“Blank Generation” will be discussed in brief.
“Love Comes In
Spurts” sets a vulgar and irreverent view onto love that is expressed through
sexual interactions. The fourth stanza contains the lines, “I just can’t get
wise to those tragical lies. Though I now know the facts, they still cut like
an axe,” exclaiming in the fifth that, “Love comes in spurts, in dangerous
flirts, and it murders your heart. They didn’t tell you that part, baby.” This
harsh tone takes a stance that is unapologetic towards the conventional views
of love we all know. The rhyme scheme of the song as a whole is AABB BBCC DDDD
EEFF DDGG DDDD EEFF DDGG DDDD DDDD which adds a sense of bounce and motion to
the vocal melody. As the opening
track to the album, Hell takes a frustrated approach to love and promiscuity,
hinting that the society around him confuses one as the other. This frustration
about the life around the speaker in these poems becomes further prevalent in
the rest of the album in underlying messages.
“Who
Says?” furthers the fatalistic hopelessness of the album through the
exclamations of the frustration of existence. The chorus opens with, “Who says
it good, good, good, to be alive baby? Same ones who keep it a perpetual jive,
baby.” Hell takes a critical stance against the previous and current generation
of the time in the post-hippie era that promoted an ideal world despite the
obvious faults within the real one. The bleak tone gathered from the lyrics
alone coupled with the almost mocking tone in the sung vocals is ironic in a
way due to the self-deprecation insisting that happiness is a lie sold by the
most effective deceivers. The song furthers some of the sneering mockery and
satire that become notable in underground music though the actual instrumental
composition itself. Tonally, the song is very bright, upbeat, and “in your
face.” The instrumental sections combined with the lyrical content gives off a
sense of flippant nihilism that seems to not care that life is falling apart
around the speaker. “Who Says?” is the acceptance that life pretty much sucks,
but preaching about how good it is is only self-righteous and dishonest.
“Blank
Generation” is the anthem of at-first nonsense that intrigues further analysis
to come to the realization of, “Holy f*ck
dude, this song slaps musically and poetically.” Instead of flippant
indifference to life, “Blank Generation” centers itself in the rampant
hopelessness and becomes a fatalistic empowerment of existing despite the
nothingness that ensues. The song starts off blaring the unforgettable lines,
“I was saying let me out of here before I was even born, it’s such a gamble
when you get a face,” letting the listener know immediately that the speaker is
deeply rooted in dissatisfaction with its nihilistic tone and exaggeration. The
chorus takes the turn of the speaker acknowledging the philosophical
predicament they are in but owning it completely. “I belong to the Blank
Generation, and I can take it
or leave it each time. I belong to the Blank Generation, but I can take it or leave it each time,” speaks of this
ambiguous state of being that is left down to choice of how to continue,
leaving the song completely open ended to myriad interpretation. “Blank
Generation” became an absolute underground hit because it became symbolic to
the disenfranchised and disillusioned who felt that they were in a vague state
of living in society.
I
could go on forever about this album, (so
if you ever talk to me about it, oh boy I hope you’re ready) but for the
sake of this essay, I won’t go any further. The poetic elements present in
Blank Generation are heavily focused on tone and the scenes and emotions that
can be depicted and felt from each of the songs. For poetic analysts, it’s
either a gold mine or an absolute nightmare. For people who actually think life
is beautifully meaningless, I present you
this album. For everybody else, you can take it or leave it each time for
all that it’s worth.
