In the grand scheme of things, I was kinda late to the table on the greatness of James Chance, given my then-narrow presumption that any band centered around a sax player wasn’t worth my time. That was idiotic, of course, but I was young and stupid.
As detailed back on this ancient post, I finally warmed to the jittery cacophony of Chance’s Contortions via their placement on No New York during my arguably more enlightened college years, and later immersed myself in Chance’s singular brand of melodic confrontation. Yeah, Chance played the saxophone and took his cues from free jazz, funk, soul and classic R&B, but he was also way “punker” than most of what was being dubbed as such in 1979. He was certainly pushing more musical envelopes and taking greater chances (pardon the pun) than the yoiks in bands like the UK Subs et al. were.
I put up some videos of some vintage James Chance only a few weeks back that are well worth your time, capturing him and the Blacks (his backing band, at the time) in great, feral form. As it happens, my friend Miles recently secured some tickets to go see James Chance & the Contortions perform next week at Bowery Electric, so I’m getting psyched up for that. Somewhat astonishingly, James Chance has a new album out. Here’s the first single off same…
No, maybe his current look doesn’t quite synch up with the svelte, sharp-dressed and bug-eyed killer from those distant late 70’s, but you won’t find me getting in the man’s way. I think his days of smacking audience members around (a good several years before GG Allin giddily took that bloody baton and ran with it) are well over, but I’d rule nothing out.
But James had a softer side as well, let’s remember. Here he is demonstrating same in 1987, partially filmed -– in artful fashion –- in the reflection of a large puddle on a West Village pier. I’m guessing Jane Street, maybe?
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