Henry's Half-Century

My first introduction to Henry Rollins came via a mixtape sloppily compiled by my grammar school pal Rich sometime around the summer after we'd just graduated from eighth grade. Sandwiched with endearing incongruity between "Too Hot" by the Specials and "Do You Believe in the Westworld?" by Theatre of Hate, Rich had inserted the incendiary "Rise Above" by Black Flag, and I believe I nearly wore down the rewind button on my crappy boom box from overuse. Suffice it to say, it was immediately evident that it was a song that could SIMPLY NEVER BE PLAYED ONLY ONCE! Punctuated by Henry Rollins' feral vocals and Greg Ginn's untethered guitars, it was quite possibly the most exciting two minutes and twenty-seven seconds of music I'd ever heard. In a fleeting instant, it made my then-favorite records by the Sex Pistols and The Ramones sound positively polite. Welcome to hardcore!

Ironically, I'd unwittingly met an early bandmate of Henry's the summer before at a dude ranch in Wyoming ... of all places. Wendell Blow, the bass player for Henry's original band, S.O.A., came to the Elkhorn Ranch with his family just as I'd been taken with mine for a week of wholesome Western fun in the saddle. Wendell was a little older than me, and cut a somewhat intimidating profile with his shorn scalp and Clash t-shirt. If memory serves, I believe he spat at my feet at one point upon sight of the "Pink Floyd The Wall" t-shirt I was sporting at the time. He wasn't exactly in a rush to make friends. Little did I know that the obscure combo he was a member of (whose cryptic initials he'd scrawled all over his jeans) would go on to be the stuff of hardcore legend.

After splitting S.O.A. to take over vocals for Black Flag (the band's fourth singer after Keith Morris, Ron "Chavo Pederast" Reyes and Dez Candena), Henry Rollins arguably cemented Black Flag's status as the American hardcore band. Oddly, however, just around the time myself and other latecomers discovered them, Black Flag seemed to go well out of their way to alienate their own following. Not that their records up through Henry's debut on 1981's Damaged had been exactly "catchy," but from that point on, Black Flag's music became particularly inhospitable and unwieldy. Those expecting more infectious choruses and well-defined riffs just weren't going to get'em.

I got to see Black Flag during my freshmen year of college at The Newport Music Hall in Columbus, Ohio. It's nice to be able to say that, but truthfully, it wasn't that great a show. I believe they were promoting the Loose Nut album at the time which, as far as I was concerned, really wasn't their finest hour (although I do still like "Annihilate this Week"). More to the point, Henry had been apparently bitten by something a few days earlier and hobbled around the stage like Long John Silver as opposed to the enraged panther he was normally comparable to.

The band fell apart acrimoniously shortly after that, freeing Henry up to pursue a solo trajectory. Years later, I actually got to interview him circa the release of 1990's Fast Food for Thought, an album he recorded with then Rollins Band bassist Andrew Weiss under the name Wartime. I met up with Henry outside of the (now long defunct) Marquee on West 21st Street. For the most part, Henry was as curt and impatient as I was nervous, but eventually we both relaxed and he let down his guard a little. I even brought my copy of the No Policy e.p. by S.O.A. for Henry to sign (on it, he scrawled "One Old Record!").

Years after that, Henry became a bona fide celeb, a label he doubtlessly still wrestles with today. From Gap ads through movie roles, Henry is now something of a ubiquitous public figure, but has admirably stayed true to his convictions and channeled all his energy back into his own projects. While his famous ire may be harder to take seriously at this stage of the proceedings, his dedication and single-mindedness remain hard to discredit, as far as I'm concerned at least.

This past Sunday night, as I was running outside to take care of a few late-weekend errands, I turned the corner onto Broadway and almost walked directly into Henry Rollins. Completely grey and decked out in sweats, Henry was bounding south with a typically determined stride. I couldn't stop myself from exclaiming "Henry!" He turned and smiled unenthusiastically and offered a wave. I was going to follow up with "Did you hear about Gary Moore?" (the death of the storied Thin Lizzy guitarist at age 58 had circulated earlier in the day, and Rollins has frequently cited what a massive fan he is), but I didn't want to sound like more of a sycophantic fanboy than I already did (y'know, like those people who insist on calling Elvis Costello "Declan McManus" when they see him).

As it turns out, Henry was probably on his way to the studios of WNYC, where he was being interviewed on the occasion of his 50th birthday! Here's that interview in its entirety. Rise above!

ADDENDUM: Take a moment to check out the amazing collaboration between my friend Glen E. Friedman and Shepard Fairey in honor of Henry's 50th. If you're interested in getting a print of same, click here.

Comments

[Michael Stahl]

I know someone who ran into Rollins/Garfield in a hotel lobby in the late 90's or early 00's. It was right when the stock market was experiencing quite a tizzy. Rollins was on his cell phone shouting, "No! I want you to SELL those!...Yeah, keep them, but SELL the other shit at 2.5!" (or something along those lines). My buddy said, "Hey! Henry Rollins, Black Flag!" Rollins, just looked at him and went, "What? Yeah, look, I don't have time for that shit buddy" and immediately turned his maniacal attention back to his cell phone.

[GEF]

please check this out. http://obeygiant.com/prints/rollins-81#more-12998

you know to celebrate the big 5-0
besides my work w/Shep, he's doing a string of shows here in NYC and DC!

we'll have to talk later this week Alex.

p.s. damaged my single most favorite LP of all time