joan jett

nice to hear that joan jett's still rawkin' after all these yrs. while her ex-cohorts in crime from the runaways (creepy angeleno uber-hipster kim fowley's brainchild, an all-girl band that traded in those twin rawk fundamentals trash 'n' sleaze in exactly the same way as the y-chromosomed-in-spite-of-everything noo yawk dolls did a little bit earlier and the ramones did around the same time, to the point of having a completely bogue media-fueled east-vs.-west coast rivalry back in da pre-hip-hop daze when such didn't include gunplay or expensive jewelry) lita ford 'n' cherie currie have reinvented themselves as heavy metal mom 'n' foxes film almost-was turned chainsaw sculptress, respectively, joan continues on her way down the true path of rockaroll (i once saw her, pre-"i love rock 'n' roll" but with the toon's author eric "roscoe" ambel on gtr, i-bullshit-you-not wipe the floor with iggy hisself, then at a low ebb in his career where his band was even more pedestrian than some of the ones john cale usedta tour with and his best song was actually "louie louie" but without beer bottles breakin' on strings like on metallic k.o.) with a sound that, while hardly pushing back any boundaries, will remind the interested listener of a time when the words "pop" and "punk" could scarcely be spoken in the same sentence. (which maybe means that all those bands with numbers in their names that came after green day have more in common with the sweet 'n' suzi quatro than the ramones 'n' pistols like you'd think. or not.) good on 'er.