Why the Denizens Still Matter
(Denizens & Valentinos at the Lager House 12/30/2004)
It might be ironic that one of the most important records of 2004 is by a band that hasn’t played together since the late 1970s. It’s taken almost 25 years for the first Denizens record to be released and it’s actually worth the wait. The Denizens came to save rock & roll in Detroit, they gave us a taste of how much fun rock & roll should be, and they quickly vanished before we ever truly appreciated them. Back in the late 1970s the Denizens were one of a handful of bands in Detroit actually playing live, original rock & roll in clubs like the Red Carpet and Bookies. The official punk rock fossil record only gives credit to places like New York City and London, but the scene in Detroit that was centered around Bookie’s Club 870 can hold its own against anything else that was going on across the USA. The Denizens were an integral part of that scene, but unfortunately none of their songs ever made it to vinyl. The story should have ended there, but it’s really hard to kill great rock & roll music. Those of us that remembered the Denizens refused to let that dream die and a tape with a few Denizens tunes on it was making its way around Detroit. Earlier this year, the Denizens held an impromptu reunion show and the momentum had reached a fever pitch. Young Soul Records has just released the first Denizens single and the band was headlining at the Lager House.
For somebody that didn’t experience the Bookie’s scene personally (and that probably includes 95% percent of today’s public) it may be hard to understand the impact that the Denizens and other bands really had on the city. Today, the city is filled with clubs and bands playing original music, ranging from rap to punk to metal and everything in between. That certainly wasn’t the case back in the 1970s. There was absolutely no place to play for a band that did not play cover songs; places like Lili’s, the Red Carpet and Bookies only came about because people were willing to make these places work. Every time you look into the Metro Times or Real Detroit today and can’t decide which one of 5 places to go to, you really need to thank the Denizens and everybody else that made it possible for the rest of us to enjoy all of these choices.
I’ve been sick all week, but the disease that could keep me from seeing the Denizens have not been invented yet, so it was on to the Lager House. The Valentinos, as usual, played an excellent opening set and the Lager was jammed as usual. The Denizens had a surprise opening guest, as Danny Kroha added his vocals and guitar to the three opening tunes. Danny was just a bit too young to be hanging out at Bookie’s, but he’s managed to become a member of both the Ramrods and the Denizens. After Danny left the stage to a rousing ovation, Timmy Denizen made his way up to the stage and it was time for the Denizens hit parade to begin. All of those awesome tunes, such as “Abra-cadabra”, “Danger in Disneyland”, “Twisted Brain”, “I Know You Hate Me” were once again reverberating through my head. The Denizens sounded way better than I ever remember them sounding before – actually, this is very true, as these guys are now great musicians. The most emotional part of the evening came when Mike Murphy (the drummer of the Denizens) had his brothers join him on stage to bid a final farewell to their brother – Tommy, who had passed away a few days before. The final song of the night was a beautiful cover of “Tears of a Clown” and the Denizens were gone again. (at least this time I have a record to remember them by).
It’s hard to over estimate the importance of the Denizens and all of the other bands and musicians that have carried the torch for rock & roll in the city of Detroit for all of these years. None of these bands will ever get signed or even noticed by what passes for the music industry these days, but they keep playing because the music is what drives them to play and for us to keep showing up. At least for me, the Denizens matter even more in 2004 than they ever did back in the 1970s.