When I started this website, I decided not to include anything from my two unpublished books, particularly my personalized opus/popular culture survey A Fan’s Calendar. Today’s exception is due to the death of the New York Dolls’ vocalist/songwriter/driving force David Johansen. I received a post a few weeks back saying he was in bad shape, so it wasn’t as out of the blue a shock as the loss of Prince or Toots Hibbert or David Jo’s longtime bandmate Sylvain Sylvain. But the Dolls are my favorite rock ‘n’ roll band by a considerable margin over the Ramones/Velvets runners-up, and Johansen is the primary reason why. So here’s the piece I wrote for my book a few years back, followed by an update with ensuing developments and thoughts:
I first saw David Johansen at Dallas Alley, a trendy nightclub near downtown in that city. It was a Sunday night with a seven-dollar cover charge which seemed like a bargain to me but was actually their off-night standard. David Jo was doing his Buster Poindexter shtick, and seemingly few in the place knew who they watching: the lead singer of the greatest band of all time.
The New York Dolls released two albums during their meteoric career: a perfect, earth-shattering debut and an amazingly close follow-up that lacked its predecessor’s snarl and songcraft but surpassed it in a way with a wild sonic spectrum that captured the fun side of the group’s essence. The guitar sound propelled by Johnny Thunders and centered by Sylvain Sylvain was their signature, backed by solid bassist Arthur Kane and amazing drummer Jerry Nolan. They all made the band special, but Johansen brought it over the top: he’s dynamic, funny, and smart, utilizing creative nods to popular culture backed by a vast knowledge of American music.
Johansen abandoned his chaotic bandmates for the soft landing of a solo deal that had lost all steam before his Buster persona endeared him to frat boys and yuppies. More power to him, I say, not just to right the wrong of his overlooked past but also because he put on a great show. He started doing a few movies, most notably Scrooged (he’s as good a Ghost of Christmas Past as anyone and better than most), and achieved greater fame than when he was the singer of the greatest band of all time.
Then, miracles never cease, the reunion happened. Surviving members Johansen, Sylvain, and Kane got together after Morrissey recruited them to play some shows in England; unfortunately, Arthur died shortly thereafter, but the concerts fulfilled a long-time dream for him to play with the band again. Johansen and Sylvain continued with other musicians to record new material, with the first release in particular as remarkable as their seventies albums. The sound doesn’t match the spark of the original band, but the songs are stellar; I believe Thunders and especially Nolan (who both died long before the reunion) would have enhanced them even more.
Although I was grateful to be able to see Johansen back in the eighties as Buster and Thunders/Nolan as themselves in a rare visit down south, it wasn’t quite complete. So seeing a Dolls reunion show in Austin (on my wedding anniversary, no less; fortunately, my wife’s a big fan as well) was a sentimental musical highlight but also one of the best shows I’ve ever seen. Johansen and Sylvain were completely on, and the supporting musicians—who not only played well but also dressed the part– were as reasonable a facsimile as you could hope for to replace such dearly-departed giants. Like I said, for me anyway, the best rock ‘n’ roll band of all time, and now David Johansen is the only one left. I sure hope I get to see him again, in whatever persona.
Afterword: Now I’m just grateful to have the records, already on regular rotation and likely to be even more frequently played for the foreseeable future. I encountered the original New York Dolls almost exactly 10 years after the fact, a young college student with an unofficial major in expanding my musical palate. Some of the albums and artists I discovered during that era have faded for various reasons, but the Dolls are one of the rare groups that gets better with every listen.
David Johansen’s personality comes through in every Dolls song. But we now have a more personalized document to fill in the gaps, thanks to filmmakers Martin Scorsese and David Tedeschi: Personality Crisis: One Night Only, released in 2023. The main title references Johansen’s greatest musical achievement, the kickoff track of the Dolls’ 1973 debut; the subhead refers to a show at the Carlyle in which he takes us through highlights from the original group to the solo years to the reunion period. Johansen called it something to the effect of New York Dolls material filtered through Buster Poindexter, but it’s really much closer to the approach of the reunited Dolls.
Interspersed with the Carlyle concert are historical clips of Johansen—Dolls and solo—along with a wealth of illuminating interviews. He’s expectedly funny and insightful, and clips of his radio show indicate how extraordinarily vast his knowledge of American music is. In addition to Scorsese’s contribution to the rock doc genre with the celebrated Last Waltz, he also directed a terrific Rolling Stones concert film. Personality Crisis: One Night Only is a much more casual movie, lacking the celebrity guest lists that make the Band film monumental and detract from the Stones picture that’s better when they’re on their own. But Johansen’s charisma drives the picture in between the musical moments. The song presentation is more stately yet not sedate, subtly demonstrating how material that was largely ignored in its time– and only reached substantial cult status after influencing the punk and alternative worlds to come—fit perfectly on the stage where Bobby Short regaled audiences with cherished standards, in Johansen’s case a sort of Great American Alternative Songbook.
In fact, while the Dolls’ image (more glam than pre-punk, stylish in men’s or women’s clothing) and their musical attack (more pre-punk than glam, revved up fifties ballast with some new twists of their own) helped gain the limited extent of the early attention they received, Johansen built an enviable songwriting catalog over the years and under the radar. The volume is exceeded by many, but the peaks only matched by a few. And if the reunion era doesn’t quite feature the hooks of the original Dolls records, his lyrics actually improved: Someday We Will Be Pleased to Remember Even This, the first comeback album, is a lyrical tour de force short of only the likes of Highway 61 Revisited, as in top of the mountain territory.
One thing I’d forgotten before seeing Scorsese and Tedeschi’s documentary was how notable the start of David Jo’s solo career was. Inspired by the movie’s inclusion of Funky but Chic at the Carlyle concert and Frenchette in old concert footage, we got his self-titled 1978 solo debut. It was the first thing my wife put on the turntable after we heard the news, and it holds up throughout. Start with the early New York Dolls records and don’t miss Someday We Will Be Pleased, but being consoled with an unheralded record I’d completely forgotten about except for Funky but Chic makes me think there’s more Johansen treasure out there to rehear and discover. As devastating as the news was, the music David Jo left behind is so exuberant that as soon as the record kicked in I started to feel the salve working. It’ll need reapplying, for sure, but luckily I know where to look on the shelves.