By Julie Denice Griffin
I love rock n roll. 'Hello daddy, hello mom, I'm your c-c-cherry bomb. Hello world, I'm your wild girl, I'm your c-c-cherry bomb.'
While Joan Jett & the Runaways used some of the songs they wrote to ask you about your propensity for the risk to love again despite the pain, the lead singer of the group who started as a teenage star also wondered about her audience being young enough and rebellious enough to enjoy the runaways. People always did seem to favor the singer though, and the excitement of Joan Jett and her mostly blonde entourage even just entering the stage once on the first overseas tour they took to Japan, the young emanciated punk star seemed to glow with the image of, I get whatever I want.
In some more older girl and with complete congruence, the heavy metal multi-platinum, Edge of A Broken Heart band named simply Vixen, a part of the general glam rock society of the Los Angelos, CA. fad era which began that form of wonderous genre ~ The article here serves both as an honor of the talent of and the loss of a wonderful person, Jan Kuehnemund of Vixen. She passed away at the age of 51 as perhaps she had fulfilled her call to this life most fully, and yet most suddenly left us. And even as the pink lights of heaven light up everywhere to remind the nation to work toward the goal of a better awareness, it seemed that the band's 1990's release of Rev It Up, and even the most recent album, Live & Learn suggest a better way yet.
On the oriental coast, earlier years brought a formiddable Joan Jett to the first sacred dinner of ceremonial speech saki and seemed to only counteract things like the bad news that came for Cherie Currie while the group was enroute of the first European tour that made them a great formal sensation there. And while it is also very sad that Americans do not pick up on cool fad bands who part the seas of Hell or the twisted view of the heaven of some so to speak for the other groups that follow a particular musical style, still the comfort of knowing the possibilities bring calm forbodings of future miracles.
Fortunately, for Currie, things worked with a reverse karma and further on down the road, although Joan took off on her own to an even greater eventual success, the anemone group of Vixen also made a one more or couple of later album releases, which although Tangerine and a reunion album, makes folks around here likely think of other and more sundry lovely and gentle things like Peaches Records, and the Delmar Loop. But do not let, soft sweet face powder or the glisten of the lip gloss jar fool you. Both bands toted the barge alone. As even one infamous male band, namely one very wild Motley Crew once even expounded, that just because they had on make-up did not restrict the ability to take good care of a heckler.
So, no wonder downtown girls make such a hit ~ Women like Jan Kuchnemund and although classified as a girl due to her age physical teenage status even Joan Jett said she did not like that her best friend and band member, Cherie once made her body at a photo shooting more public than her music. As Joan pointed out, and a few of the others in the band, the goal of the group image and what they wanted, the women defined as I music and not crotch. The nude photo foldout set off some unexpected behavioral reaction on the part of Cherie, and yet also brings to the present mind the more favorable lead enigma that logically follows most, which incurs depth of field for the no reaction spectre when similar behavior engaged by a male rock star gets simple self-respect for expected publicity.
All other negative and positive electric current aside, the film itself begins in a way as it ends, which is that the fluid motif, and while the other hard mentors also still support the sister band's ideals, the most famous idea of all seems to exist within the perimeters of the double-standard which both groups failed on purpose to espouse. The day of the tough road to hoe, male stars like the Beatles faced a share of the tears for fears. But did not ever have to bravely face the fire, although the capacity at which and within, of anything to do with acceptance based on some pre-concieved social ideals about whether they should work in the music field or not. At least Cherie's stay-at-home sister gave a well-deserved equality of respect. "Well, if it isn't Mary Mother-of-God ~ What no disciples? No cameras?"
A dad with a sweet name for the daughter gone out and rocking in the rough and the sister who stayed at home to cook and clean and care for him brought a precipice or two to mind. A Martha and a Mary, both necessary to the household, for one brought service while the other some much needed funds to the mix. But once the former returned home from Europe on emergency leave, she only finds her father worse and on the edge of more illness instead of recovering and better. The small home town origin of The Dr. Feelgood tour of the Motley Crew also reminds one of the start The Runaways got. And while Vixen town glory boasted of a larger metropolis, it seemed all the females grew to the age of womanhood before the age of 14.
So many lovely things about all of these punk rock women of tough and of glam come to mind, like the way Joan sang of those of us who have a big heart, and still know how to hold em, or jump from an aeroplane naked, whatever duty or fate might ask for first. Just drooling for emotion. Can't stop the highway. But to explicity describe each detail of the film here though, ever for critical purposes though is to reveal the secret of which the slow drip of anarchy, mayhem, beyond ever formal avenues of those plastic whose sordid or smoked survivors enjoyed nothing due to the multitudinous prohibition of man's bar. At least the girls of punk here had enough motivation to realize that women do bring a certain kind of art to the stage of rock, and also did not let anything they thought anyone thought stop them from forming theirs. Are we not your fuckin' family now ~ You saved my life. Joan Jett and the Runaways rode a conceptual rock project, that according to the agent she left behind, "And it bites me in the hand. Then I know I've trained it well." But Joan was quick to retort in another scene that, "If it wasn't for rock and roll, I'd probably be dead or in jail. It saved my life." But on that radio show, despite the host saying the two had a lot to talk about across phone lines, the silence spoke louder than words. Still, it seemed like they did want to at least say, "We are not ashamed to say that love is pain and we'll do it again."
On the down side, after Cherie broke down with exhaustion from likely stigma and just pure overworked hours, she said in the phone booth before she slipped down to a time of a better rest, "Places everyone, places." As if to remind us that we have roles we play at all times, and whether up or down, we do perform some kind of a position. The four original members of The Runaways, Lita Ford, Sandy Fox, Joan Jett and Cherie Curie forever serve as a sharp historical insight, and along with Jan of Vixen of what a girl can be. In short, functionally everything is useful. Of course, my favorite scene beforehand represents everything as absolutely nothing more girly and fun which exists than wearing a gold rock and roll glitter shirt, and cool and thick high heels while listening to Starry Starry Night at the grocery store at perhaps say 2:00 a.m., and grocery shopping without no form of money whether cash, credit or whatsoever and no way to pay your bills, and then glory of all glories, you are saved up Jack Nicholson style by a holy nervous breakdown. It's been a year. You should at least talk to her.
That image of one woman whose star always shines brighter, which Jan of Vixen and Joan Jett of the dual infamous girl bands espouse the most, and more as most competitors of the sport of music do, shake hands and part, and justly so when Lita Ford made her own solo debut and sung a song with Ozzie, Close Your Eyes Forever. Of course no one really wants the singer they love the most to ever do it. However, none of the girls lacked one of the craves of some rock fans, that of the oft or often sex symbol, one of the rare cases where it really does not matter, and if only simply because it is all only really how in the way you choose to look at a thing.
You've been speaking for me the whole time. You get in the fucking booth. I'm done. ~ Cherie