Why was there so little fanfare after David Johansen’s death? 3 March 2025, 6:39am
David Johansen died aged 75 on 28 February, which most people who knew him would consider a miracle. Every other member of the band for which he is most renowned checked out years ago, the earliest being drummer Billy Murcia who died aged 21. His replacement, Jerry Nolan, died at 45 and most people thought that had been a long time coming, frankly. The guitarist, the wonderful Johnny Thunders, died aged 38.
That band was, of course, The New York Dolls. Hits – none. Their two albums made it to about 167 in the Billboard charts. Both were abysmally produced, as was Johnny Thunders’ album with his spin off band, The Heartbreakers. And yet all three albums, if you hear them today, are palpably alive, original, raw, exciting and often hilarious.
More to the point, they had probably as great an influence on rock music as the Velvet Underground. Without the Dolls, no Sex Pistols, perhaps no punk. No Smiths. No glam metal. No glam indie stuff, no Suede. You might blame them for a later epidemic of cross dressing debauchery, for epitomising the idiotic James Dean live fast and die young schtick. But you cannot deny the excitement they provided, nor that wonderful legacy of songs – Lookin For a Kiss, Personality Crisis, Jet Boy, Trash and, my own favourite, Vietnamese Baby.
Johansen was the singer – a fabulous and dangerous parody of Mick Jagger. He was, to me, the very essence of 1970s rock n roll. And I hope that now he is in some kind of heaven, the kind of heaven he would like.
WRITTEN BY
Rod Liddle
Rod Liddle is associate editor of The Spectator.
Spectator source article minus subscriber only gate:
FWD.
UPDATE 12:30PM PT:
The title of the Morrissey Central article has changed from:
"ROD LIDDLE, The Spectator"
to:
"Why was there so little fanfare after David Johansen’s death?"
David Johansen died aged 75 on 28 February, which most people who knew him would consider a miracle. Every other member of the band for which he is most renowned checked out years ago, the earliest being drummer Billy Murcia who died aged 21. His replacement, Jerry Nolan, died at 45 and most people thought that had been a long time coming, frankly. The guitarist, the wonderful Johnny Thunders, died aged 38.
That band was, of course, The New York Dolls. Hits – none. Their two albums made it to about 167 in the Billboard charts. Both were abysmally produced, as was Johnny Thunders’ album with his spin off band, The Heartbreakers. And yet all three albums, if you hear them today, are palpably alive, original, raw, exciting and often hilarious.
More to the point, they had probably as great an influence on rock music as the Velvet Underground. Without the Dolls, no Sex Pistols, perhaps no punk. No Smiths. No glam metal. No glam indie stuff, no Suede. You might blame them for a later epidemic of cross dressing debauchery, for epitomising the idiotic James Dean live fast and die young schtick. But you cannot deny the excitement they provided, nor that wonderful legacy of songs – Lookin For a Kiss, Personality Crisis, Jet Boy, Trash and, my own favourite, Vietnamese Baby.
Johansen was the singer – a fabulous and dangerous parody of Mick Jagger. He was, to me, the very essence of 1970s rock n roll. And I hope that now he is in some kind of heaven, the kind of heaven he would like.
WRITTEN BY
Rod Liddle
Rod Liddle is associate editor of The Spectator.
Spectator source article minus subscriber only gate:
FWD.
UPDATE 12:30PM PT:
The title of the Morrissey Central article has changed from:
"ROD LIDDLE, The Spectator"
to:
"Why was there so little fanfare after David Johansen’s death?"
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