Back in the early 80s, I briefly covered the New York music scene for the Aquarian Weekly, a New Jersey alt-paper that desperately wanted to be the Village Voice. I’ve long since lost track of those scribblings and assumed none of them ever made the transition to the Internet, so I was surprised to see a 1982 item with my byline on the official website of the Senders, an awesome New York band that never achieved the success they deserved.
My article is actually a review of a performance by the Cramps, entitled “’Rock and Roll Is About Fucking,’ Declared Lux Interior In No Uncertain Terms.” But the Senders were the opening act that night and I devoted half the article to their performance, declaring them:
A real rock’n’roll band, who were born in the garage and never left. In different forms, they’ve been part of the New York scene for years, but the big move which made them what they are today occurred a few years ago, when they moved their drummer to the lead vocal spot. As a singer, Philippe has it all. The girls swoon over him, he’s got a good voice, and he looks good-but-not-perfect (his long, greased hair never stays in place) on stage.
I cringe at the possibility that more of my early 80s reportage may someday make its way to the Internet, but in this case, I owe the Senders one for taking the effort to transcribe my ramblings. They’re still awesome (spend a buck to download “6th Street” right now, if you don’t believe me). And, Lux, thanks for giving me one of the best headlines I’ve ever written. RIP, Googoomuck.