"Blank Generation", Richard Hell & The Voidoids, 1977
Dia: 23
Mês: Abril
Ano: 2013
Ano: 2013
The Trouser Press Record Guide – Fourth Edition (Collier Books, 1991): "I was saying let me out of here before I was even born", opens Hell's masterpiece, "(I Belong to the) Blank Generation", on the 7-inch Richard Hell EP. That lyric sums up Hell's attitude, which he expanded and perfected on Blank Generation with a new version of the title track and such powerful statements as "Love Comes in Spurts" (an old tune the Heartbreakers recycled into "One Track Mind") and "New Pleasure". The album combines manic William Burroughs-influenced poetry and raw-edged music for the best rock presentation of nihilism and existencial angst ever. Hell's voice, fluctuating from groan to shriek, is more impassioned and expressive than a legion of Top 40 singers.
The A to X of Alternative Music (Continuum, 2004): The Voidoids were signed to Sire Records and together they made the excellent Blank Generation album, complete with intelligent, literate lyrics that usually worked on more than one level and were shot through with themes of identity, relationships and death. They were funny too. The title track is of course, the Voidoids' crowning achievement and demonstrates that Quine was a guitar-player like Wayne Kramer and Fred Smith before him who had more than a passing interest in the improvisational possibilities of free-jazz. The guitar break is awesome.
The Rolling Stone Album Guide – Third Edition (Random House, 1992): The sullen, punked-out Blank Generation stings like a casual insult. "Love Comes in Spurts" – if you're lucky. Behind the sliced t-shirts and ear-scorching amplification, however, lurks an underrated band: the Voidoids focus Richard Hell's boundless alienation into bold, innovative rock & roll. Lead guitarist Robert Quine spikes the angry rush of sound with quick runs and sudden explosions; Quine milks each tender electric nerve of his Fender for all its worth. Hell's no more a poet than he is a bass player, but his snarl-to-a-croak vocal range sounds downright affecting here, not affected. His snarling indictments of society (and himself) are propelled by his band's headlong attack: there's not a wasted growl or gust of feedback on Blank Generation. ★★★★
The Virgin Encyclopedia of Indie & New Wave (Virgin Books and Muze, 1998): One particular track, "Blank Generation", achieved anthem-like proportions as an apposite description of punk, but Hell intended the "blank" to be filled by the listener's personal interpretation. A re-recorded version of the same song became the title track of the Voidoids' dazzling debut album, which also featured the terse, but extended epic, "Another World", and a fiery interpretation of John Fogerty's "Walk Upon the Water". Raw, tense and edgy, with Hell intoning "cut-up"-styled lyrics delivered in a style ranging from moan to scream, Blank Generation is one of punk's definitive statements. ★★★★
AllMusic: While Hell's debut album, Blank Generation, remains one of the most powerful to come from punk's first wave, those anticipating a Ramones/Dead Boys-style frontal assault from this set had better readjust their expectations. "Love Comes in Spurts" and "Liars Beware" proved the Voidoids could play fast and loud when they wanted to, but for the most part this group's formula was much more complicated than that. (...) While most punk nihilism was of the simplistic "Everything Sucks" variety, Hell was (with the exception of Patti Smith) the most literate and consciously poetic figure in the New York punk scene. ★★★★1/2
Soundblab: One of the many things that makes Blank Generation so unique is the juxtaposition of Hell’s rebellious bravado and his more introverted side. On the surface, this album is a mainline rush of Sex, Drugs & Rock & Roll. But all that is betrayed by lyrics fraught with self-doubt and conflicted feelings. More than anything, Blank Generation is a cold hard look in the mirror, while doing your worst. Whether you consider it nails on a chalkboard or not, if the first notes of "Love Comes In Spurts" don’t stop you in your tracks, you’re deaf. [10]
PopMatters: The great thing about this record is that it's truly superb that sounds as thrilling and vital as it did 40 goshdarned years ago. Buy it and play it. It'll make you want to get your hair cut à la Rimbaud, guaranteed.
Uncut: The Voidoids formed in June 1976, played their first gig in November and by the start of 1977 were in the studio, recording their first album, Blank Generation. Of the great debut albums by bands from the CBGB scene, you might listen to Television’s Marquee Moon and think of bat caves made of ice, lit by neon. On their debut album, the Ramones sounded like they’d been strapped to the nose cone of a ballistic missile and blasted into space. Talking Heads: 77 was replete with jittery impulses, uptight and tense. Patti Smith’s Horses, meanwhile, sounded like something beset by bad weather, hoarse incantations made on a windswept beach under a sky best described as glowering. Blank Generation, finally released in November 1977, sounded by comparison grubby, dishevelled, like it had been recorded in an alley strewn with broken glass, beer cans and dead cats.
The Vinyl District: Hell — he took his name from "A Season in Hell" by that enfant terrible of French letters, Arthur Rimbaud, whose life and work made him a totem amongst the intellectual wing of the CBGB’s crowd — was a well-read poet who gravitated towards literature’s dark side, and found there — just as I did — plenty of reasons to give the gimlet eye to human existence. While he was formulating his black and absurdist view of existence, Hell was also busy inventing the look — the ripped t-shirts bearing messages like “Please Kill Me” held together by safety pins, and the spiky and unbrushed Rimbaud haircut — of punk. But his “live or die—who cares?” philosophy of life was so dark—and exacerbated by his addiction to heroin — it even irked the great rock writer Lester Bangs, who ended an essay on Hell with the words, “If you choose to go down, I promise to dig up that crypt and kick your ass.” Ultimately he didn’t die, unlike his brothers in nihilism Darby Crash and Sid Vicious, and I believe it’s because he had something to sustain him that they didn’t, namely poetry. And good thing for us, because by continuing to draw breath he managed to encapsulate his antipathetic view of the world in 1977’s Blank Generation, which sounds just as scathingly nihilistic as it did when it was recorded.
Village Voice – Punk Icon Richard Hell Looks Back at “Blank Generation” Forty Years Later: In the photograph, Richard Hell stretches open his jacket to show the words “YOU MAKE ME ____” written across his upper chest in thick black marker. The punk-rock pioneer liked the way the image simultaneously blamed the world (“you”) and engaged his audience to fill in the blank, much like his song “Blank Generation”.
Antena 3: Em 1976, a canção que [Richard Hell] compusera e tocara com os Television e com os Heartbreakers, tornou-se single. Em 1977 tornou-se também título de álbum com dimensão de manifesto. Na capa, Hell em pose de desafio no casaco aberto a mostrar o peito nu, onde se lia “You make me”, seguido de um espaço para preencher como bem se entendesse. Riff à Stooges, balanço Bowie, o blues revolvido para cabaret rock’n’roll gloriosamente decadente, e atitude 100 por cento Richard Hell. “I was sayin’ let me outta here even before I was born”, anunciava-se. A “Blank generation”, a sua, não era a geração do vazio. Era a geração que tinha perante em si um espaço em branco por preencher. E não havia dúvidas que não demoraria a decidir o escrever nele. Richard Hell criou o hino e ajudou a dar o tiro de partida. A Inglaterra de Sex Pistols, Clash ou Buzzcocks, inspirada por ele, não demorou a juntar-se à corrida em passo veloz.
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