Punk Avenue: Inside the New York City Underground, 1972-1982

by Phil Marcade, Legs McNeil (Foreword), Debbie Harry (Preface)

Finalist, 2017 Indie Book Awards for Autobiography/Memoir, Foreword ReviewsPunk The New York City Underground 1972-1982 is an intimate look at author Paris-born Phil Marcade’s first ten years in the United States where drifted from Boston to the West Coast and back, before winding up in New York City and becoming immersed in the early punk rock scene. From backrooms of Max’s and CBGB’s to the Tropicana Hotel in Los Angeles and back, Punk Avenue is a tour de force of stories from someone at the heart of the era. With brilliant, often hilarious prose, Marcade relays first-hand tales about spending a Provincetown summer with photographer Nan Goldin and actor-writer Cookie Mueller, having the Ramones play their very first gig at his party, working with Blondie’s Debbie Harry on French lyrics for her songs, enjoying Thanksgiving with Johnny Thunders’ mother, and starting the beloved NYC punk-blues band The Senders. Along the way, he smokes a joint with Bob Marley, falls down a mountain, gets attacked by Nancy Spungen’s junkie cat, become a junkie himself, adopts a dog who eats his pot, opens for The Clash at Bond’s Casino, opens a store named Rebop on Seventh Avenue, throws up in some girl’s mouth, talks about vacuum cleaners with Sid Vicious, lives thru the Blackout of 1977, gets glue in his eye, gets mugged at knife point, plays drums with Johnny Thunders’ band Gang War, sets some guy’s attache-case on fire, listens to pre-famous Madonna singing in the rehearsal studio next to his, gets mugged at gun point, O.D.s on heroin, gets saved by a gentle giant named Bill, lives at night… Never sleeps…  A very funny book.

Genres: Music, Nonfiction, History, New York, Punk, Biography, Audiobook

168 pages, Kindle Edition

First published May 2, 2017

Reviews

[Lynx · Rating 5 out of 5]

Philippe Marcade takes us on a wild ride from his childhood in France to the punk rock streets of New York City. Marcade knew all the major players, The Dolls, The Ramones, Debbie Harry, Cookie Mueller, Sid and Nancy, etc and recounts memorable anecdotes about all of them. He also shares his own musical journey with his band The Senders, details the scenes at both CBGB's and Max's Kansas City and walks us through life in the colourful, often terrifying streets of the Lower East Side.

I zipped through this book. It's a fun, fast, easy read that is so awesome you'll want to stretch it out as long as you can but will find it impossible to put down. Marcade writes as if the reader is a great friend and he is sharing all the crazy fun details of his life over a beer and a joint. Absolute must read for all Punk Rock fans and those looking to be entertained while getting a personal look at the birth of punk rock.

*Thanks to Three Rooms Press and Edelweiss for this review copy.

[Janellyn51 · Rating 5 out of 5]

I loved Phil's book, hahaha! I have known him since the summer of 75, in Provincetown. Philippe has a smile that could melt butter. Hands down, the best looking guy in town. There are two things that I think of when I think of Philippe....the first would be sitting on the edge of his bed when he had a room upstairs at the A House. I can't remember how I got there, or why he invited me up. He was sitting across from me, with that smile that can only be described as disarming....because that's what it did to me....he was so incredibly good looking, and I think he knew he had me squirming.....I had to get up and leave! The only other person I can think of doing that to me was Joe Strummer, although with Joe, it wasn't him smiling, he was staring so intently at me, I thought I saw smoke rising from my shirt, like maybe he was burning holes through me, and I had to get out of there! Like Philippe, me and Joe also became friends for years! My other favorite Philippe story....I met a New York guy while he was playing at the Rat in the battle of the bands. We started dating, and right out the gate he would talk about his buddy Philippe. The only guy in NYC that was whiter than Pete himself was his buddy Philippe, he would just go on and on about his buddy Philippe (I might add, he was right, they were deathly pale). Pete WAS crazy about me. I was a model of sorts, and he did drip cool, even though I was beginning to see he was a fucking lunatic. He thought I was pretty, but he as much as said, pretty girls were a dime a dozen, and he was from NY, and I was, for all intents and purposes, a twinkie from Boston. How he deigned to go out with me, much less marry me.....our twins will be 35 next month. So, Pete says one night, oh, the Senders are playing at the RAT, you'll finally get to meet my buddy Philippe, and I was actually almost nervous, I'd heard so much about the guy.....So we come up out of the T in Kenmore Square, and there's these 4 guys walking towards us on Comm Ave. They looked like they'd left the rest of the Magnificent 7 on the film set, and thought let's go to the RAT! They were getting closer and Pete says, oh here he is my buddy....and at that moment, Philippe yells oh baby, I haven't seen you in years, and he's hugging me, and we're twirling around on the sidewalk, such a lovely reunion! Pete's there humita humita....in the words of Phil, hahaha! It was priceless.
Pete and I did get married, Wild Bill was at our wedding party I remember.....Billy came to stay with us up here after his nervous breakdown for a bit. I fucking love Billy, and he sincerely is one of the greatest guitar players you'll ever hear. Even Billy would tell you he was the best guitar player in NY, by default, because the rest of them are dead! The Senders were indeed the best bar band goin. Philippe's stage presence, would just blow you away. Steve Shevlin, one of the nicest guys in the world, but don't fuck with him. I felt so bad hearing about him going deaf, but I did think it was cool that he wound up doing drug counselling at the Randolph School For the Deaf, where my Auntie Louise used to volunteer or something, I don't really know why, but she used to take me there when I was a kid, there is a photo I have of me with the deaf kids there.
I was at Tony Machine's wedding on the roof of the Gramercy Park Hotel when the Clash were staying there. It was a wild wedding, although, I really wish I'd been a fly on the wall for Tony's bachelor party, at least the part where he walked to Tramps tied to a chair naked, or some such foolishness....I've heard it said that if you remembered being at Tony's bachelor party, then you weren't there! I got my info from Pete who was there. I never had a problem with Mick, but don't doubt he could be a wicked prima donna!
I worked at Trash, so would see the Senders on the stoop next door all the time. I only lived in NY for a year, we left town and moved back to Boston after I got pregnant, and Pete thought the band he was in in Boston would make it, not the Irish band he was in in NY, which became Black 47. While I was in NY, I was in the weird position of working in the coolest shop on St. Marks, getting asked out by everyone from Bruce Springsteen, to Rat Scabies, but I was married, and more often than not, Pete was in Boston with that band, and I was by myself in NYC, so I didn't do much going out. On the one hand I missed a lot, on the other hand, I'm not dead. I honestly think that me being married, kept me out of the fray, otherwise, I would have been front and center. I only ever snorted heroin and threw up after, so I wasn't worth wasting drugs on, which also kept me up and running. I knew a lot of the people Phil talks about in his book. I fucking loved Cookie and it broke my heart to hear about her dying. Nan and David were friends in PTown. Phil was right, she was into girls when she lived in PTown, often I'd turn around and she'd be right behind my shoulder! She had a 50s circle skirt a big wool athletic jacket with leather sleeves, and these really high heels all strappy with her baby toe sticking out the side! When I got to NY she was bartending at Tin Pan Alley, and roomates with Trish one of the Irish girls that hung out with the Irish guys Pete played with. I've long been fascinated with her rise to fame, well deserved to be sure. And David, so gentle and sweet he died a few years ago, fabulous photographer. My boyfriend of the last 26 years, Simon Ritt, used to play with Johnny Thunders, John dying was a hard pill to swallow. I didn't really know Johnny, I only saw him play once, I don't remember much about it except Vinnie Matland from the BMT's was playing drums that night, Johnny knocked some girl in the mouth with the Mike stand, I think she thought he would kiss it better! Hahaha, Johnny could be so nasty, but funny nasty. We often wonder what he would be like in this politically correct world we live in now, frankly, I hope he would never have changed, but he's been dead since, what, 1991 now. Actually one of the funniest things that happened when I worked at Trash, Johnny came in the back to where we sold shoes, creepers, and Cuban heeled beatle boots and stuff, he wanted a new pair of converse high tops....so we got em for him, he put them on and headed up front, undoubtedly right out the front door in his new kicks....me Ron, and I think it was Billy Pigeon, who also had worked at Rebop, stood in a circle around these rancid holy high tops that Johnny had left behind, just staring at them, nobody wanted to pick them up! We debated how much we could get for them on the street for a bit, and finally, one of the guys went and got a shovel!

Anyway, this took me all of a day to read, you really don't want it to end. I think whether you have any familiarity with the NY scene, or not, you can't help but enjoy Phil's writing, hahaha! It's easy, he doesn't wax all philosophical, he's not trying to sound erudite, he's just himself, for my money, completely honest. I haven't seen him, god, must be 20 years now. The Senders played at Bunrattys. Billy stayed with my friend Beverly, who he'd met at my wedding, Richie, Joe Rizzo, and Philippe stayed at my house. Simon was playing maybe at Geno's in Portland so he wasn't around that night, and there was Phil in my living room, with that smile, I'm telling you, it's killer.....the kids were at Pete's, and the guys, all of them, slept in the kids room! The next day we had fun visiting Mort, who had been a roadie for Johnny when Simon and Joe played with him, I guess he and Richie, Walter's brother were friends, it was so much fun. Richie called me one day, we had a great conversation, he was telling me I wouldn't believe how wild he looked now, and about the band he was in, and the next thing I know, he was found dead.

I think the bottom line is, nothing is free. We had a ball in the 70's free love, do what you want, do it the way you want to do it, but it catches up with you in the end. I spent years being worried about having lived in Ptown and been a bit of a sailor....about my husband getting strung out on heroin and leaving us flat, even though he didn't shoot heroin, I was scared shitless about whether I'd already gotten AIDS, but I'm 65 now, I raised two kids on 6 bucks an hour, and they're good kids too!

I'd give anything to be going to Phil's event in NY on May 2nd, but I just can't pull it off. If you can go, go, if not buy Punk Avenue, it's a fun fast fact filled read, you want to know what it was like living in NYC back then and the music scene, this is the definitive book right here, hahaha!

[Alvin · Rating 5 out of 5]

I was a sminch too young to have experienced the first wave of NYC punk in person, though I bought all the records and devoured magazine articles about it as it was happening. This fun, charming, witty, and occasionally poignant book goes a long way towards giving the reader a street-level view of what life was like in that amazing little scene – definitely a worthy companion to the spectacular oral history, Please Kill Me.

[Meagan · Rating 5 out of 5]

Full disclosure: my last book was also published by Three Rooms Press, and I won an ARC of this book at one of their recent readings. Also, I have a beat-to-shit old copy of Please Kill Me on my bookshelf and my first YA novel was about a kid who was obsessed with Blondie. So, it probably goes without saying that I enjoyed the hell out of Punk Avenue. Phil Marcade relates tales of his grungy but charmed life on the Lower East Side with a cheerful bonhomie that feels less like some heavy historical account of The Dawn of Punk than it does a late night beer and a smoke down at the local dive, listening to this guy down at the end of the bar tell another one. My only complaint about this book is that I wish it was longer! Quite a few of these anecdotes made me want to lean in closer and ask "and THEN what happened?" Highly recommended for fans and fiends of the 1970s-80s NYC punk/rockabilly era. Also recommended - seek out some Senders albums to be your soundtrack while you read this book!

[patty · Rating 4 out of 5]

A refreshing read about this time and place by a new voice (to me).

[Steven Davis · Rating 5 out of 5]

Totally enjoyed it! Was a quick, fun and easy read. I'm a fellow musician and grew up in the same times as the author. Even had a junk habit. From the first page to the end, the humor shone! Thanks for sharing your story with us!
Steve

[Kevin Scott · Rating 5 out of 5]

A great in sight into the punk/ new wave era of the 70's in New York. It was a hard way of living being in a band on the circuit and living in amongst it all, as it all was unfolding and happening at the time, with moments of fun & chaos at every corner. The bands, the venues, the attitude, the creativity, the feelings are all here plus all the people of the time wandering in and out of everyday life.
Phil Marcade takes you on journey that was his life and he writes it in a way where you get to feel and see it like you was actually there yourself. A great read about a great time, experience and a way of living.

[Justin Hayes · Rating 5 out of 5]

Don't Know Him, But I Love Him

I'd not heard of Marcade or of his band The Senders, but this guy knows how to tell a story. Always fast-paced and full of intimate details of some of New York punk's biggest names--the author and Johnny Thunders were close--I can guarantee that you will have difficulty putting down this book, and you will feel sad when it's over.

[Adam Bashaw · Rating 3 out of 5]

A fun read that is mostly anecdotes of experiences from the lead singer of the Senders, a bluesy punk band from the late '70s and early '80s. While it's not high literature, it is an enjoyable look at the NYC punk scene during its heyday. I recommend this for anyone interested in a light read.

[Stefanie Robinson · Rating 3 out of 5]

This book recounts the authors experiences in the Punk Scene of the late 1970s and early 1980s. It gives an interesting glimpse into the activities of some famous hangouts, like the CBGB. I am not a super fan of Punk music, but I do enjoy some of it. I also appreciate the impact these Punk bands had on some of the bands I currently enjoy listening to. This book was free to listen to on Audible Plus, and I listened to it on my last shift before leaving for vacation. (I am now catching up on reviews, so sorry to anyone following mine for the bombardment.)

[Jaz · Rating 2 out of 5]

It didn't take me long to read this, but only because it's such a short, insubstantial piece of work. There's nothing to be learned from it that isn't already available in better books on the same subject, e.g. Legs McNeil's 'Please Kill Me'. One for the charity shop pile, I think.

[Nestor Rychtyckyj · Rating 4 out of 5]

I am somewhat embarrassed to admit that I have not heard of Phil Mercade (or the Senders) when I found this book at my neighborhood B&N (Bookstores are great!). Phillipe Mercade gives us a unique view of the early NYC punk scene. He was there from the beginning and all of the familiar names like Johnny Thunders, Debbie Harry, the Ramones, Dead Boys and others are prominent in the book. However, Phil's secret weapon is his fantastic sense of humor which resonates throughout the book. He manages to describe all sorts of crazy situations in a way that make you feel that you were actually there and somehow wriggles out of many tight spots. The Senders never made it big like some of their contemporaries, but they had so much fun that it didn't really matter. (Check them out on YouTube - they were a great band).

All wasn't fun and games in the scene and Phil has to battle with his own demons to make it through those crazy times. This is a fun read and a great look back at this times where the most influential music in the world was coming from one run-down neighborhood in NYC.

[Pat · Rating 1 out of 5]

Whodathunk a book about punk rock would be boring? The Ramones, Debbie Harry, etc. boring??

"Meanwhile, Johnny Thunders got into an argument with the Heartbreakers and decided to do something else for a while. He called me from England and, learning of our situation, offered to join us for a handful of shows before we found a permanent guitarist. With that, he invited a young French guitar player named Henri Paul to join the party and soon they both arrived in New York. We recruited Ty Stix on drums. We did two or three rehearsals together at Steve’s and were surprised when Johnny insisted on learning our songs rather than just playing the sorts of covers everyone would know, which would have been much easier for him. It was really cool of him to give us a hand in that way. With the publicity he was going to get us, finding a permanent guitar player would be easy. We booked three shows at Max’s for August 3–5, then a fourth at Hurrah’s. The ad read: The Senders with Johnny Thunders."

The entire book is like this. And then I, and then we, and then they.... WHO CARES? There's no introspection, no growth, no insights, nada. It's a bunch of anecdotes from a spoiled French kid who got away with a bunch of stuff Back When, namedropping the entire way. It's like listening to somebody recount the last time they played a board game: Sure, it was thrilling to them, but you want to slit your wrists after the first 20 minutes of it. zzzzzzzzzzzzzz

Here the ending, so you don't have to slog through it: "In 2000, The Senders were hailed as the “Best Bar Band in New York” by the New York Press in their “Best of Manhattan” issue. The article called us a “New York legend going back to the days of Max’s” and ended with the words: “Definitely the Best Bar Band in New York but maybe also in the entire world!” See! I told you!"

(No, I didn't like this book. Why do you ask?)

[Matt · Rating 4 out of 5]

Sex! Drugs! Rock-n-roll!

A review in three parts…

Sex - there definitely is some in this book.

Drugs - an ever increasing amount until things get pretty darn ugly.

Rock-n-roll - a whole lot! This guy was at practically every key moment in the early Punk scene. Plus he had his own band (Voted Best Bar Band in New York). I discovered a lot of great Rockabilly style punk bands from this book: Mink DeVille, Dr. Feelgood, The Senders, Crazy Cavan and the Rhythm Rockers to name but a few. He even had a run in with Robert Gordon one of my personal rockabilly favorites. He knew Madonna before she was anyone. He hung out with the Bob Marley, the Clash and the Heartbreakers (and was close personal friends with Johnny Thunders).

[Thomas Pardo · Rating 5 out of 5]

Really great view from one of the wallflowers of Punk Rock, Philip Marcade seems to be everywhere at the right time and now everyone who was an influence on NY Punk Rock. The book was hilarious the whole way through and it really put you at the heart of it all whether it was CBGB's or the heroin houses of 1970s NYC.

[Kopper · Rating 5 out of 5]

Very enjoyable read. Marcade's memories are incredible. The stories exciting, amusing, and sometimes very sad. I really enjoyed this book.

[Angela Nicole · Rating 4 out of 5]

Phile Marcade was part of the punk/R n' B band The Senders. His memoir of sorts depicts his point of view about the debaucheries of the New York punk. He described how everyone was obsessed with Johnny Thunders and Jerry Nolan, Nancy's cat was drug addled, and how Sable Starr freaked out during one of the New York blackouts. He wasn't a real popular person on the scene, but his memoir is worth reading.

[Joe Rodeck · Rating 3 out of 5]

*Punk Avenue* takes us back to the early ‘70s CBGB’s/Max’s Kansas City incubator of punk rock.

The best of it is about the Ramones. Other characters discussed in some depth are Johnny Thunders, Mink DeVille, and Nancy Spungen [Sid & Nancy].

Realism and debauched humor is a plus.

On the down side, too much junkie business and not enough about that music movement.

Reading level: simple.

[JustEvan · Rating 5 out of 5]

Wow. What a fantastic book for anyone even remotely interested in the history of the New York punk music scene in the 70s. Hilarious, heartbreaking, fun, frightening, joyous by turns. A poignant picture of the dilapidated state of New York in a bygone era studded with the glorious glam sunshine of the music, art, and creativity of the punk era.
A must read!

[Blane · Rating 5 out of 5]

Any book with a Cookie Mueller cameo appearance or two can't be bad! Fun, fun, fun read!

[Ash Pie · Rating 4 out of 5]

Entertaining

[Irene Mallory · Rating 5 out of 5]

Those were the times

This book is a perfect read for a 70s aficionado. A light and quick read, but very enlightening. Recreates the atmosphere far better than any movie. And it made me laugh so hard at times.

[Mark Rubenstein · Rating 5 out of 5]

Even without rose-tinted shades, it ain’t much of a stretch to slot 1970s downtown NYC alongside Weimar Berlin of the 1920s or the Parisian Left Bank of the 1930s. The socio-political and economic climates of each combined to fertilize an environment that was sympathetic towards creative misfits of every variety; where rules were discarded in the worlds of art, film, literature and music, and bold new ideas were bashed into shape -- their true merits and vitality only validated by the masses decades after the fact.

Marcadé stumbled stateside in the early 1970s, quickly winding his way to NYC, where his world would collide not only with the nascent art [Nan Goldin] and film [Waters’ Dreamlanders] worlds, but also with the earliest rumblings of countless bands and musicians whom the laziest critics would lump together under the label of punk. Armed with a deep and sincere passion for righteous forefathers like Bo Diddley and Wynonie Harris, Marcadé left his own indelible mark on the music scene through forming The Senders -- a superb band not miles away from Mink DeVille and Dr Feelgood, but without being a cheap secondhand copy of either.

His world was gritty and greasy and seldom dull, and he went beyond participation and observance by embracing it throughout the ups and the downs. And while Marcadé was absolutely an avid and eager collector of experiences, Punk Avenue would be a very different book without his natural gifts as a first-class raconteur of the highest order.

It’s a fitting legacy: the book is Flip, and Flip is the book -- class, grace, style, humor, wit and, as anyone who knows him will add, charm.

[John Marr · Rating 5 out of 5]

I've always thought the early New York punk rock scene was overrated. When I saw this one, a memoir from a singer of a band I'd never heard of billed as "inside the NYC underground 1972-1982," I expected driveling from a middle-aged never-was boasting about that time he peed on DeDe Ramone's foot when they opened for the Tuff Darts.

Boy, was I wrong.

Phil Marcade is a hilarious story-teller who has a knack of being in the thick of it. Told in a series of brief vignettes nicely knitted together into a great narrative that never lacks for laughs even when he's fleeing muggers on Avenue D or being mauled by Nancy Spungen's heroin-addict cat. Highly recommended.

[Kecia Olney · Rating 4 out of 5]

Good read, well written.

This was an enjoyable book, well written and entertaining. It offers a point of view from someone not hugely famous and he has many interesting stories about punk legends in New York.

[A · Rating 5 out of 5]

Memoirs are most enjoyable when written by those who have a skill for storytelling. Phil Marcade is able to deftly weave the humorous, sad, perilous and poignant as he takes us on a ride to and through the birth of the NY punk scene. An excellent read.

[Barbikat60 · Rating 5 out of 5]

Riveting and nostalgic

I saw The Senders at the Continental Divide. It’s all True, they were an amazing bar band!

During that era of my life, music, friends and getting high was all that mattered.

Phillipe’s book was engaging in so many ways. He gave the true history of how life was back in the seventies and early eighties. I was a high school student in the seventies and lived 35 miles away from NYC. I read Creem, Punk and the Village Voice and when I finally moved to the City, I immediately clung to the last vestiges of what once an amazing music scene.

What an honest book! The chaotic bad behavior, the drug use, the MUSIC! I identified with it all and lived through it. It opened old wounds but that’s good because I never want to forget where I came from and why I love being sober now.

I cracked up when I read about Seven up though! Heh, living la vida Loisaida!

[Cat · Rating 5 out of 5]

Punk fans will enjoy this quick read. I found the book interesting as I remember the early days of punk. Anyone needing a trip down memory lane will enjoy this book. So many bands I had forgotten about and so many individuals. Lots of info to keep a reader's attention. Worth a read.

[Vickie Knight]

I won this book from Goodreads. Read it in just a few days, it was lots of great information, I really enjoyed it

[Fuzzy Cow · Rating 3 out of 5]

What do you get when a bohemian lifestyle meets a heroin addiction? Well, Phil Marcade certainly found out. He was born to wander for a purpose, following his friends across the United States and eventually into the New York Punk scene. Phil saw a lot, experienced a lot and even did a little himself. Going through, he talks about every major player and and talks about what made them stand out in a crowd desperate to make themselves known.

The number one thing that this book is trying to do is get a reaction out of you. The stories are told in a carefree style, that hints that it's told in good fun and light heartedness. But you can tell by the way he strays that he wants to hook you with the grime of the punk scene. If you are to believe Phil, the thing that made that scene what it was is cheap apartments, a thrill that you're getting one over on someone, pot and heroin. There is romance, though more often there is lust. There is talent, though nobody (talented or otherwise) could have survived this scene if they couldn't hang.

The thing that kind of creates a surrealism for the whole thing is the light hearted nature. If felt like it was all of the high points, grazing over lows. Phil talks about the great summer he had hanging out with Johnny Thunder, and in the next sentence is counting off names of people who died from overdoses or AIDS. He kind of meanders around, telling life as it happened, with no meaning or morals. This was his life, he thought some pieces are funny or cool. Other parts sucked, but we don't need to worry too much about those. In general, it was okay though it didn't really lead to much.

Maybe I'm being mean. I don't know Phil Marcade. I don't think I've ever heard The Senders. But I can say that this book isn't about Phil Marcade. It's about the people Phil hung out with and the shenanigan's they pulled as a group. It is trying to be about the scene, one that lived fast and died far too young. In that sense, I think that this was a kind of interesting book. But at the same time, if that was the goal, then it can't help but feel flawed. This is one person's experience, it's not the definition of a movement.

This is a "whatever" book. I feel like it's well written (simple and page-turny), designed to keep the reader going from one fun goofy story to the next. I don't know how true it is (emotionally speaking), but it really is entertaining. With all of it's sins intact, this book can't rise above mediocre, but I enjoyed it. On to the next one.