Zoom tunes

The original X roar back

by Ted Drozdowski

The original X emerged from the Los Angeles punk jungle as one of rock and roll's perfect beasts: toothy, sleek, and powerful -- swiping at the jugular with a razor talon of wit and economy. They were so much a product of their time that a reunion now, 18 years after their debut, Los Angeles (Slash), seemed a pallid if entertaining proposition. Nonetheless, when the band clambered back on stage at Avalon this past Saturday, June 13, they put blood into the music, fusing great songs, ferocious energy, ace playing, and truly anarchic joy into what's likely to stand as the year's best rock show.

At their birth, X were a slap to pop's head. The lyrics of songs like "We're Desperate," "Nausea," "White Girl," "Los Angeles," and "Sex and Dying in High Society" favored graphic realism -- penned as Bukowski-like poetry -- over the escapism of what rocked the mainstream charts in 1980 and 1981. (Kenny Rogers's "Lady," the Captain & Tennille's "Do That to Me One More Time," Olivia Newton-John's "Physical," REO Speedwagon's "Keep On Loving You," and Blondie's "Rapture" were among those years' number one hits.) And their unfrilled guitar/bass/drums attack, often delivered at speeds that foreshadowed hardcore, thundered sincerity. As did the vocal harmonies of Exene Cervenka and John Doe, which are gifted with a just-south-of-right quality that rings with the faith of Appalachian folk singing.

During their first four years and as many albums, X's concerts were indictments of the sociopolitical establishment. Their performances were less overt in their rebelliousness than the Clash's, but more incisive than Joe Strummer's flag waving. They were fun, too. But X played as if they meant every word about the decay of America and its ideals, and how that had stained the souls of its citizens.

Under Ronald Reagan's reign, X's brand of unreconstructed protest music (think Phil Ochs on amyl poppers) fell from favor. By the time rockabilly-inspired guitarist Billy Zoom left the band, in 1986, their power was dissipating under the flogging of their record label (sell more albums, slaves!), getting devoured by the marketplace they'd denounced. The Zoom-less line-up that occasionally surfaced over the next decade made some brilliant music but never equaled past glories.

Now, with no label nipping at their heels and with their posing black-leather Adonis, Zoom, returned to the fold, X are again free to be their brilliant, bad selves. The Avalon reunion was part of a series of shows that seem to be testing the waters -- which ran deep and fast. From the opening psychosexual thriller "Johnny Hit and Run Paulene" their shit rocked relentlessly. Zoom -- his hair gone from blond to his natural brown -- reclaimed his splay-legged stance and played nimble lockstep with drummer D.J. Bonebrake all night. As a great rhythm-guitarist, he's America's equal to Keith Richards. The vocals of Exene and John have improved with time. And with the exception of the balding, gray Bonebrake, the band have aged marvelously, losing neither charisma nor energy. X played only their pre-'87 music, reveling in the glory days and delivering everything older and younger fans wanted (except "Riding with Mary" and "I Must Not Think Bad Thoughts").

It was as if they'd stepped out of 1983 and let it rip -- just when we needed them. At a time when derivative pop hacks like Green Day and Rancid are being heralded as the best of what punk rock has to offer -- merely because they have hooks, volume, and energy -- the reunited X are a corrective. X's is the best kind of rebel music. It blends personality with musical thrust and precision, lyric beauty and intelligence. And it thrives on that crazy little thing called soul.