by The Lingernots
I’ve recently re-aquired some of my lost music collection. Of the dozen albums, the only two that I have given any attention to is Miami and Fire of Love, by the Gun Club. I had never quite realized how much this music marked me.
One afternoon when I was maybe about sixteen or seventeen years old, I was (surprise surprise) digging through the crates at Red Devil Records in San Rafael, instead of sitting in my after lunch English Lit. class. I came across a compilation, bought that along with Jayne County’s autobiography (which I recommend) and sat across the street on the green and started listening, enjoyed it until the sixth or seventh song, which was Jack on Fire. I started the song over, and over, and over again. I wore out the repeat button, marched back across the street and proceeded to buy every and anything I could dig up on this new thing.
After years of moving around, of growing up (barely), of forgetting and rediscovering, of starting over and throwing it all away, there are always a few albums that make me feel like myself, no matter who I feel like at the time. The Stooges’ Raw Power is one, and Miami is another, only now I notice the influence on my style as well… Dusty leathers with silver chains, scraps of fur and amulets and some kind of voodoo stink..
Pamela Love’s amazing jewelry line strikes me as the same personality as his music, its the ornamental version.. Paired with leather and a worn out army shirt, a bleach job and a generous helping of whiskey, your on your way to imitating the late Jeffrey Lee pierce (Cocaine optional.. barely)