X Was the First Real Coed American Punk Band

The second wave of American punk?70s incarnation?began in Los Angeles. L.A. provided the perfect Gomorrah for a nihilistic melee that, other than its Ramonesean rhythms, bore little similarity to the artier twitchings coming out of New York, Cleveland and the UK. In the teeming slam-pit of L.A. hardcore the whole notions of "postpunk" and then indie rock were first conceived. The DIY principle came alive in the hands of Black Flag, who started the pioneering SST label in 1978. But as egalitarian as the hardcore hordes were in one sense, proclaiming "anyone can do it" and then leading by example, hardcore quickly became formalized into the worst kind of uber-doctrine, with its own established set of rules.

Chief among them was the notion that speed was the necessary antidote to what was, at that time, the prevailing hippie complacency. The hardcore audience, mostly young suburban whites, didn't want to be reminded of the more organic musical textures that had thrilled the previous generation of rock fans (partially because of the pompous shitbags their idols had become). But some of these more ornate musical notions were still influencing the "underground." How could they not? A whole generation certainly wasn't going to forsake its record collections. Slowly the influence of everything from Black Sabbath to Creedence became apparent. Here was a wealth of musical resources lying right at this new generation's fingertips?and let's face it, you didn't have to play like Horowitz to master a few Neil Young licks.

X originated out of the original L.A. punk milieu, but they laid some distinctly different patterns on the twisted fabric of "punk" consciousness. X was the first important American punk band in which men and women shared equal composing and performing duties. Sure, Tina Weymouth and Deborah Harry were important, but Tina merely fulfilled the supportive role that other important women-in-rock like the Velvet Underground's Mo Tucker had previously; and Deborah Harry's role in Blondie was that of the classic "front-person"/object. There was really very little intergender interplay in either of those bands. In England, all-female bands like the Slits and Raincoats had erupted, but X was something different: the interweaving vocals, as well as the startlingly contrasting visual counterpoint of John Doe and Exene, were like a premonition of the sexual tug-of-war that was gonna come down in the modern age.

X was also a contrast to the esthetic of speed-at-all-costs. On their first album, Los Angeles, originally released in 1980, the tempos are accelerated for the most part, but "The Unheard Music," for instance, had a distinctly Doors flavor, which might not have been all that much of a coincidence considering that Ray Manzarek produced the album and X covered the Doors' "Soul Kitchen" with the same aplomb that the Dickies brought to "Nights in White Satin." X was laying more baroque textures on top of the basic punk exoskeleton and many critics voted Los Angeles album of the year.

With its followup, Wild Gift, released the next year, the band catapulted itself to true deity status. There's hardly a lick o' dross on the whole opus: "Adult Books," "We're Desperate," "White Girl" and "Beyond and Back" are all musically and lyrically first-rate, and "Universal Corner" might be the best song they ever did, with its staccato Raw Power riffage and psychic-sex-sacrifice male/female vocal exchange?which would prove to be hugely influential on the next wave of intergender bands, from Sonic Youth to the Pixies.

Two more things: the entire impetus for the great post-everything Jersey band Love Child can be found in one song from Wild Gift: "I'm Coming Over." And as Chuck Berry imitators go, guitarist Billy Zoom was better than Johnny Thunders.