Re-visit: "Little Johnny Jewel" by Television

Re-visits are posts I will be writing from time to time where I will revisit a record or CD from my musical past and try to hear it anew.

"Little Johnny Jewel" by Television, released 1975, Ork Records #81975
written by Tom Verlaine, published by Double Exposure Music Inc.

(7" 45, Part one of the song on one side and part two on the other)

I feel a sense of menace as the song begins. Each pluck, twang, and drumbeat is clearly audible. there's lots of white space. The song doesn't invite you in, it makes you come to it, makes you understand it on its own terms. Assertive, proud honeyed guitars.

Really this is creation ex nihilo. It surely must have been ignored at the time of its release -- it didn't fit in with the styles of the time. Even releasing it in two parts on both sides of a 45 must have been unheard-of. Verlaine famously gave as his musical influences 1960's jazzer Albert Ayler, the Rolling Stones' "19th Nervous Breakdown," 20th century classical composer Maurice Ravel, and the Twilight Zone theme.

Now little Johnny jewel
oh he's so cool
He have no decision
He's just trying to television
Oh some thought this was sad
And others thought it mad

I like the little quaver in Verlaine's voice when singing "mad" and "display" and the guitar trill during the line "the rush, the roar," it conveys the noisy grey skies over Kennedy.

The record holds up amazingly. No revisionism needed. It's taken up residence in my head lo these 30 years and hearing the real thing doesn't disappoint me.

After some gathering tension the guitar solo starts. Guitar solos later went out of favor in the punk scene when musicianship and its display was disparaged. The high part of the solo is just audible at the very end of the 45's A-side. Pause to turn it over as I think "this still blows me away." The B-side starts with the last words sung on side A, "and lose his senses" and the solo begins again. Beautiful drumming by Billy Ficca, my sometimes CBGBs buddy in those days.

The guitars call to mind a noisy flock of birds in some Bowery tree. They're unafraid to express emotion in the guitar playing (when the lyrics are so guarded). The solo is the real heart of this song.

The main theme is restated after the solo ends, there's one more verse of lyrics, some more scratchy guitar and the song ends. Who is this guy Little Johnny Jewel anyway? Some gangster they knew in those days? or is he Verlaine himself?

The 45 comes out of an uncompromising place, done truly for the art of music with no reservations and no concessions to commercial or popular taste.