Post-punk personified: Lydia Lunch on the song that captured the “disaffected youth” of the 1970s
Today, the streets of New York City are lined with tourists, high-end shopping outlets, and offices filled with rich investment bankers, but it hasn’t always been that way. Back in the 1970s, the concrete jungle of Manhattan was a much more sleazy place to be, characterised by decaying slums, squatters, brothels, and, of course, punk rock. NYC proved to be a natural fit for the disenfranchised youth who chose to express their anger and resentment through the medium of brash, abrasive rock and roll music. Lydia Lunch was at the forefront of that defiant movement.
Lunch was born in Rochester, far away from the high-rise buildings and manhole steam of Manhattan. During the mid-1970s, at the age of only 16, the budding young rebel relocated to the city, immediately finding a home within dingy, underground clubs like CBGBs or Max’s Kansas City, which both played host to a variety of up-and-coming young groups who would go on to define the punk age. Throughout it all, Lunch had a front-row seat to this cultural revolution and soon became involved herself.
After meeting Alan Vega and Martin Rev of the legendary group Suicide, Lunch soon formed her own revolutionary group, Teenage Jesus and the Jerks. Although the band was fairly short-lived, it was utterly essential in the development of post-punk and no-wave, launching the musical careers of both Lunch and James Chance, later of The Contortions.
No-wave tended to reject the sound and conventions of punk rock, which soon became little more than another complacent fashion trend, instead pursuing musical experimentation and innovation. As a result, Lunch became a cult hero in this scene, both with Teenage Jesus and later as a solo performer.
She might have been the queen of the underground no-wave scene, but Lunch still maintained an appreciation for the raw power of New York’s early punk scene. After all, the attitude and DIY ethos that permeated through the no-wave movement owed a great deal to punk. Lunch’s musical tastes were, as her own discography would suggest, famously broad, incorporating everything from The Fall to Patsy Cline. In terms of punk, however, Richard Hell was always a particular favourite.
Like Lunch, Hell had moved to New York during the early days of punk, soon forming Television, who became one of the defining bands of the era. However, Hell’s musical ambition soon proved too much for the band, and he left to form his own outfit in 1975. The song that first established Hell as a solo artist in his own right was ‘Blank Generation’, a rallying cry for the outcasted youth of the punk movement and a particular favourite of Lydia Lunch.
Explaining her deep adoration of the song, Lunch once told Louder Than War that its appeal came with “The charisma of Richard Hell, the psychosis of Robert Quine”. Continuing, she said ‘Bank Generation’ is “a classic song that sums up the born to lose / can’t be bothered to give a shit / fuck you too / get your fucking greasy eyeballs off my ass you asshole / disaffected youth of the late ’70s.”
It is difficult to disagree with Lunch; few songs managed to capture the spirit of the New York punk scene quite as expertly as ‘Blank Generation’. Hell’s sneering vocal performance and the uncomfortable, angular guitar chords which introduce the song reflected the sleazy, dirty, and defiant realities of clubs like Max’s and CBGB, establishing the core sound that so many other acts would attempt to recreate. More than that, though, Richard Hell also provided a path for the development of punk into post-punk, opening up countless new artistic avenues which artists like Lunch would take full advantage of.
