Madonna just wants to be punk. Doesn’t everybody?

In 1979 Madonna was dating musician Dan Gilroy of the Breakfast Club. The pair were living in a converted synagogue in Queens, New York, poor but happy pursuing their respective careers which at the time for Madonna was her quest to be a dancer. Things weren’t exactly going great in that department for Madonna so Gilroy taught her how to play the drums, which she took to pretty quickly. This led to an explosion of creativity from the 21-year-old pre-Material Girl Madonna—she wrote lyrics, and the music to accompany them. She learned to play a few chords on the guitar and sing. In 2008, The Daily Beast released tapes recorded by Gilroy back in the day when he and Madonna were together. He also spoke about some of the first songs she wrote and recorded on his old cassette player. The article itself refers to this work as the “lost Madonna tapes.” And that description feels accurate as the songs you are about to listen to, written, performed, and recorded by Madonna along with Gilroy, Angie Smit on bass, and Dan’s brother Ed on guitar, come from her short time fronting the Breakfast Club. They were self-released by Madonna on cassette in 1979. She had only been in New York for about a year beforehand. She would, with Gilroy’s encouragement and help, travel to France to work as a dancer and backup singer in a Parisian disco. By 1981 she was singing her first record contract with Gotham and, as they say, the rest is history.

Madonna (center) and the Breakfast Club. Photos via Youtube.
 

 

A photo of dark-haired Madonna during her time in the Breakfast Club.
 

Hardcore Madonna fans are likely aware of this period of Madonna’s development as a pop star thanks to the 2019 documentary, Madonna and the Breakfast Club (it’s out there streaming on multiple platforms if you’re interested in checking it out). Hardcore fans will also know Madonna has been known to perform versions of these songs (and other early material) live. Here’s the thing—much like the early days of the Go-Go’s, Madonna is definitely flexing her affinity for punk rock while mixing it with her own brand of spirited pop which the entire world would soon embrace and others would emulate. Now, if you’ve never heard this version of Madonna, and dig your punk with a side of pop, you are going to love these raw jams. It’s also quite compelling to hear them, knowing what was to come from Madonna in a few short years. The demo itself (which contains other recordings), went to auction in 2009 and sold for an astonishing $6400.

So before it disappears online (as it does from time to time), listen to four songs from the demo right here.

Four songs from Madonna’s self-released demo cassette with the Breakfast Club, 1979. Includes ‘Shit on the Ground/Safe Neighborhood,’ ‘Shine a Light,’ ‘Little Boy,’ and ‘Love Express.’

Previously on Dangerous Minds:
French and Saunders read a poorly translated Hungarian interview with Madonna
The Devil’s discotheque: Madonna’s half-time show a Satanic Ritual
When Madonna met William S. Burroughs
Young Madonna performing at Danceteria, 1982
Unknown Madonna opens for The Smiths, completely fails to impress them, New Year’s Eve, 1983
Nirvana and Steve Albini prank Evan Dando about working with Madonna, 1993

One of the entries for Punk magazine’s “Patti Smith Graffiti Contest” from 1976.
 
One of my very favorite possessions in my home library is the massive 2012 coffee table book Punk: The Best of Punk Magazine, gifted to me by a punk rock pal of mine. If you don’t already own a copy of it, find a way to part with $20 (or so), buy the book, and I promise you won’t ever regret it. Every so often, I pick it up and start reading from a random entry point and am taken back to the magazine’s heyday and its gritty yet comical approach to covering the punks of the scene when it began its glorious print run in 1975.

Core components of Punk were the comic strips based on the fictional exploits of the punk elite, the photo pictorials used for “The Legend of Nick Detroit” (starring Richard Hell) and another epic punk rock tale, “Mutant Monster Beach Party.” Both pictorial “movies” featured appearances by, well, everybody involved in the New York City punk scene and beyond, like David Byrne, Debbie Harry, Andy Warhol and Joey Ramone. Punk marched to the beat of its own high-hat-loving drum kit, but they also did regular magazine stuff like running contests.

In 1979 Punk solicited submissions from readers for their Patti Smith Graffiti Contest, requesting that they deface a press photo of Patti. When Volume I, Issue #5 published in August of 1976, the magazine noted it was still receiving entries commenting they “maybe” might print more, but they “doubt it.” Eight Graffiti-inspired press photos of Patti were chosen for the three-page, black and white layout and run the gamut from Patti looking a bit like Alice Cooper (pictured at the top of this post), to a topless collage of Patti (with her name spelled “Paty”) with tattooed boobs. It would take three more years for Punk to launch the Shaun Cassidy Graffiti Contest, announcing it in Punk #17 in 1979. Submissions were strong, but sadly, Issue #19 was scrapped, Da-Doo-Womp-Womp. Lucky for us, Punk’s John Holstrom included nine of the brutal illustrations of Cassidy, sent to Punk in Punk: The Best Of Punk Magazine. What a time to be alive. Some of the images that follow are NSFW.
 

Scribbles announcing the winners of the Patti Smith contest. The photo below is the one mentioned, sent in by Bimbo.
 

 

 
More after the jump…

 
On January 21st, 1979, Blondie found themselves in a strange predicament. Canadian megaband Rush (R.I.P. Neil Peart) needed a last-minute opening act for their sold-out show at the Spectrum in Philadelphia—most likely New Jersey’s early-glam metal band Starz, or perhaps the opener from the previous night, Georgia band Stillwater had to cancel. It’s not entirely clear. What is clear is that the unlikely pairing of the New York New Wavers and the Canadian rockers wasn’t what Rush fans were expecting that night, and they let Blondie know this the minute they walked out on stage.

Blondie had played the Spectrum before, opening a show for Alice Cooper in the summer of 1978. This gig also started off on shaky ground for Blondie as they were greeted by boos as well as one Cooper fan shouting “Boo Blondie off stage…they’re PUNK!” The crowd kept jeering Blondie, but, according to people at the show, by the time they ripped into their second song, the audience was hooked, and they finished their set, incident- and heckling-free. For some reason, Rush fans were not as well behaved as Alice’s (which seems weird in its own right, right?). There are several first-hand accounts posted by fans who were there, telling the story of what happened that night at The Spectrum, describing Deborah Harry getting pelted with glow sticks and more. And it wasn’t pretty like Deborah Harry. Not even close.
 

A photo of Deborah Harry backstage at the Spectrum as seen in the book, ‘Daft Punk: A Trip Inside the Pyramid’ By Dina Santorelli.
 
The Spectrum was packed to the gills with around 18,000 rock fans waiting to see their idols perform jams from their sixth album, Hemispheres. Blondie took the stage in front of a standing-room-only floor, and the audience immediately started to boo them. Ignoring the haters, they started their set. By the second song, objects were steadily flying at the stage. At one point, Harry leaned into the crowd during “One Way or Another” and was slapped by dozens of glow sticks.

Continues after the jump…

A photo from Cheri magazine of Frank Zappa and adult film star Cherry Bomb (sadly, no relation) from the March 1979 issue.
 

“Here comes CHERI! A star-spangled, Yankee-doodling dingdong of a magazine! A motherfucker of a book! Bid farewell to commercialized cunt-mongering. We’re free-swinging, free-thinking family, larynx for the morals revolution, an arsenal for all liberationist movements. We’re out to shatter all the old sexual formulas.”

—Cheri Magazine’s Peter Wolff announcing the arrival of the first issue of Cheri magazine in 1976.

In addition to an interview and photo spread with the great Annie Sprinkle (who was also a contributor to the magazine at the time), the first issue of Cheri magazine also included a $1,000 “Blow Job Contest.” All contestants were required to submit a 150-word essay on “the superlative cock-sucking abilities” of a woman you knew like your wife, girlfriend, secretary, friend, sister(!), or roommate to the magazine for review. All essays went to Cheri’s “jury” comprised of two adult film stars, Gloria Leonard (the future publisher of High Society magazine), Kim Pope and, of course, Wolff. Over time the magazine would do its best to bring riveting features to its “readers” such as Sprinkle’s consumer guide to selecting the best massage parlor, and an in-depth article on the art of fisting written by Screw magazine contributor Bob Amsel, who was also the president of The New York Mattachine Society—a pioneering gay rights group. Cheri would also feature music-adjacent articles such as an interview and pictorial with Elda Stiletto (of the band The Stilettos, which included Debbie Harry and Chris Stein), and contributions from adult star Cherry Bomb about hanging out with Led Zeppelin and Pink Floyd.

In 1979, Cherry Bomb scored an interview with Frank Zappa. Zappa was in town for a series of shows at the Palladium, including the famous one on Halloween which Cherry attended.

The interview was conducted at Zappa’s room at the historic St. Regis Hotel. Here’s Cherry on her first impressions of a man she had a “near reverence” for:

“And there he was (Zappa), crouched and glowering on the couch. I’ll tell ya, I was just stunned. Forget your Mick Jaggers and your Robert Plants—this guy is gorgeous up close! Frank Zappa radiates an animal magnetism, a bumpy allure his photos have never approached, and I’ll play Suzy Creamcheese to his Uncle Meat any day.”

With her photographer Eileen along for the ride, Cherry fearfully started her line of questioning for Zappa, and it’s full of all kinds of interesting tidbits that Zappa might not have discussed had Cheri not been an adult magazine. Issues from 1979 haven’t been digitized yet, but a Frank Zappa site dedicated to collecting and cataloging articles and written material about Frank, afka.net, published the entire article. Without further adieu, here’s Uncle Frank and Cherry Bomb (again, sadly not me), chatting about SNL characters the Coneheads, Cynthia “Plaster Caster” Albritton, and the time a fan gifted him with an actual turd in a jar.

Cherry Bomb: I saw you on Saturday Night Live, and you were just FABULOUS! How did you get on the program—I mean, are you good friends with the cast?

Zappa: First off—I have no friends. (LONG PAUSE)

Cherry Bomb: You wrote that song about the Coneheads.

Zappa: Yeah. The Conehead is a way of life. I think Americans are beginning to realize it means something important. Unfortunately, TV hasn’t taken the big step to capitalize on it. They should have a Conehead series on NBC—a situation comedy every week. That would be great! Only the Coneheads, though.

Cherry Bomb: Do things ever get too wild in scenes like this?

Zappa: Well, you know, I was knocked off that stage in London in 1971—I spent a year in a wheelchair. Prior to that, I’d never carried a bodyguard with me, but now I always do. He’s in the next room right now—so don’t you girls try any funny stuff!

Cherry Bomb: I never realized rock could be so ... hazardous. I guess a lot of your fans really like to get physical.

Frank: Oh yeah. They wanna touch—remember the Plaster Casters? We were opening for Cream at the International Amphitheater in Chicago. I was friends with Eric Clapton from before, and we were talking in the dressing room, and he said, “This chick’s been trying to get in touch with me. You won’t believe what she does. You’ve gotta come back to the hotel and meet her.” After the show, right, there she was, sitting in the lobby, carrying a big briefcase with the insignia “Plaster Casters of Chicago” on the side. Eric gave her the nod—I think her name was Cynthia—and she got into the elevator with us, with her friend. The friend had a paper bag full of statuettes of dicks they’d made. They were after Eric’s wienie, but he wasn’t going for it, so they figured maybe Frank would. I wasn’t interested, either, but I did spend two hours talking to them about their project. Yeah, actually it started off as a school project assignment, making casts of whatever they wanted with the stuff dentists use—alginate. One girl was supposed to give you a blowjob to get your weenie standing up, while the other mixed the chemicals. So, every time a new group came to Chicago, they’d make history.

Cherry Bomb: Do you think your type of show might have encouraged them? I mean, one critic called you “pornographically delightful.” Did you ever set out to, um, gross out your audience?

Zappa: No! I’ve never done anything like that! That’s the fantasy of some drug-crazed hippie’s imagination. It has nothing to do with my music or the real world. But my fans do some weird things, I’ll admit. There was this girl from Chicago, Laurel, who won a contest. And I was the first prize—I mean, she could come backstage and meet me. And she gave me a present—a Mason jar with one of her turds in it, rolled up into the shape of a cannonball. I didn’t know what to do. I just said, “Thank you,” and put it down on the dressing- room table. That was when I had the Mothers with Flo and Eddie, and Jim Pons was playing bass. I’d planned to just leave it in the dressing room—but no, Jim got curious to see if it was real. Was it or was it not a piece of poop? He carried it around for a while and finally took one whiff—and yecchh! It was real.

Continues after the jump…

A candid shot of Raquel Welch (as Captain Nirvana) and Robin Williams as the lovable alien Mork on the set of ‘Mork & Mindy’ in 1979.
 
I was still of a tender age when one of the most gorgeous women to ever woman, Raquel Welch showed up looking a bit like a busty, tanned David Bowie in thigh-high silver boots on Mork & Mindy. Are you with me? Good. Because in addition to Raquel’s role as Captain Nirvana—the leader of the very sexy-sounding fictional alien race, the Necrotons, we also get to see Playboy’s Playmate of the Year (1978), Debra Jo Fondren in a bikini in a golden cage. If any of this sounds like a blatant ratings grab, you’d be right. Originally, the episode “Mork vs. the Necrotons,” was going to be presented as a one-hour special but ended up airing as a two-part cliffhanger. If you remember anything about this show, it is likely this very episode or the perplexing thirteenth episode of the season when Mork became the first male Denver Broncos cheerleader. It’s hard to say. I came across a quote from Williams when he was asked about his feelings on the show, a contentious one for the cast:

“There were a lot of little kids who went through puberty watching that episode, and I think we lost a lot of the audience.”

It’s been well documented that Williams, Pam Dawber and the entire crew were challenged by Welch’s diva demands and behavior during filming. At one point the episode’s director, Howard Storm says Raquel suggested her younger, female hench-chicks should wear “dog masks” and she should lead them on to the set “on leashes.” Usually, this would sound like a pretty terrific idea given the fact that A) it came from Raquel Welch, and B) I rest my case. However, Storm mentioned to Welch she didn’t need to do anything but “snap her fingers,” and the girls would “drop to their knees.” Raquel liked this idea very much, and interestingly, the leash idea made its way on to the show anyway, and that’s all I’m gonna say about that.

I rewatched clips from both episodes while putting this post together, because of course, I did, and I laughed nearly to the point of exhaustion at times thanks to the gift which never stops giving—the comedy genius of Robin Williams. Much of Williams’ comedic outbursts on the show were improvised and timing to accommodate the actor to do so was written into scripts early during the show’s first season. After being so pleasantly reminded how great and profoundly weird the show was, I picked up season one and two on DVD for less than twenty bucks and will be binging on the show as soon as they show up. In anticipation of this blessed event, I’ve posted some great photos including some sweet, candid shots of Williams and Welch on the set, and footage of Williams and Welch from the show. Nanu Nanu!
 

Another candid shot of Williams and Welch.
 

 

Playmate of the Year 1978, Debra Jo Fondren (Kama), Raquel Welch, and Vicki Frederick (Sutra).
 
More Mork after the jump…

A photo of Queen vocalist Freddie Mercury (pictured center) training with members of The Royal Ballet (London) in 1979.
 

“They (The Royal Ballet) asked me. They actually thought I could dance. So they asked me to do this charity concert. Then I realized, how I could dance.  I appreciate their discipline and dedication a hell of a lot. I mean, it’s a different kind of dedication than you have to apply to what I’m doing. I don’t think I could ever do it because it’s like learning someone else’s steps. I do things that I want to do and it’s all very free-form.”

—Freddie Mercury on his collaboration with The Royal Ballet in 1979.

In 1979, encouraged by his friend Wayne Eagling a choreographer and principal dancer for The Royal Ballet, Freddie Mercury began training with members of the company for a charity performance to be held at the London Coliseum to raise money for mentally handicapped children. But before we get to the details on this bit of Freddie Mercury mythology, there is yet another fascinating bit of backstory to how this all came to be. Laura Jackson, author of Freddie Mercury: The Biography, met with Wayne Eagling to discuss Mercury’s epic performance with TRB. In the book, Eagling recalls going to the treasurer of the ballet, Joseph Lockwood, as he once held a high ranking job at EMI in the hope he might be able to persuade Kate Bush to guest star in the charity performance. Bush, still in her teens, had just been signed by the label by one of the music industry’s biggest titans, Bob Mercer. According to Mercer, he was “almost certain” Bush had been asked to don a pair of ballerina slippers before Mercury was. Kate’s manager put the kibosh on the idea, and Lockwood told Eagling to talk to his friend Freddie instead.

What isn’t up for dispute is the undeniable energy which exuded from Freddie Mercury like some sort of sonic communication from another planet. Queen’s live shows required high levels of physical endurance by its members, and this was especially true for Mercury. But could he dance? As unbelievable as it sounds, not really. However, there is no denying the man had moves for days and, allegedly, he had always wanted to “try” to dance ballet. Mercury took his training and rehearsals seriously, though he described the experience as “agonizing.” Here’s more from Freddie on becoming a ballet dancer:

“They had me practicing at the barre and all that, stretching my legs… trying to do things in a week that they’d been doing for years. It was murder. After two days I was in agony. It was hurting me in places I didn’t know I had, dear.”

As I’m sure you can imagine, Mercury’s performance was highly praised and even impressed the stuffy ballet regulars at the sold-out event. Of course, Mercury didn’t just dance with the members of The Royal Ballet, he also sang adapted versions of “Bohemian Rhapsody”, and “Crazy Little Thing Called Love” while he was being hurled around the stage never missing a note, beat, or pose. Queen drummer Roger Taylor bore witness to Freddie’s debut calling it “brave and hilarious.” The experience made an impact on Mercury, and he, Eagling and other TRB dancers would collaborate once again for the “I Want To Break Free” video in 1984, which Eagling helped to choreograph. In part, the video is based on the ballet L’après-midi d’un faune (Afternoon of a Faun) with an un-mustachioed Mercury mimicking the star of the original 1912 production, famous dancer/choreographer Vaslav Nijinsky. Zowie.

So, with yet another Queen history lesson under our belts, let’s take a look at some of the remarkable photos captured during Mercury’s time with The Royal Ballet as well as video footage of Freddy live on stage for one night with The Royal Ballet on October 7th, 1979.
 

 

 
Much more after the jump…

One of the greatest photos ever taken (in my estimation anyway) shows Judas Priest hanging out with Andy Warhol in the band’s dressing room in 1979.
 
After playing a gig in 1979 at the Palladium in New York, Judas Priest would meet Andy Warhol after a second late-night show at the Mudd Club. According to Halford’s recollection of the evening now nearly 40 years ago, Warhol came backstage after the band had finished their set. Halford engaged the artist in conversation, or so he thought noting that it seemed that Warhol was fond of responding to his queries with only two words; “Oh?” and “Really?” This prompted Halford to have a little fun with Andy by removing his famous handcuffs from his belt and clasping one of them onto Warhol’s wrist and the other to his. Then Harford broke the “bad news” to Andy that he didn’t know where the keys for his handcuffs were to which Warhol coyly replied, “Oh really?”

If the words about this story had not come from the lips of Halford himself, I would have thought it was a heavy metal fever dream I conjured up after listening to British Steel all night in reverse. Halford told the story during his “Town Hall” interview on SiriusXM Radio with David Fricke of Rolling Stone recently, and after watching it I found a newspaper article with a short interview with Halford telling the story in a bit more detail:

I got Andy Warhol handcuffed to me in the dressing room. He was there as we were playing, he was taking pictures. Andy came backstage and I was messing around with chains and handcuffs and I go “I’m going to put these handcuffs on you, Andy.” And he goes, “Oh really?” And all about Andy would say was “Oh really?” about anything. And I put them on and we are both handcuffed together. And I thought, “This is really cool. I’m handcuffed to Andy Warhol. Somebody, please take a photo.” And the label photographer took a couple of photos. And then I said, “I’ve got bad news, Andy. I’ve lost the key.” Those were in my drinking days as well, so I said: “Looks like we are handcuffed together for the night!”

Halford would finally fess up to Andy that he had the keys for the cuffs and uncuffed Warhol before the pair took off for a night of partying at Studio 54. According to Halford, he never saw Andy again. If Rob Halford wasn’t already one of my heroes, this bit of mythology would change all that. It’s a good thing I have a long tradition of choosing my idols wisely. Photos of Andy and Rob looking like an alternate universe version of the Odd Couple follow.
 

A newspaper photo of Rob Halford handcuffing himself to Andy Warhol while guitarist Glenn Tipton looks on.
 

Rob Halford and Andy Warhol in the dressing room of the Mudd Club.
 

Another action shot of Halford and Warhol handcuffed together in the dressing room of the Mudd Club in 1979.
 

A short clip from David Fricke’s SiriusXM “Town Hall” interview with Judas Priest.
 
HT: SiriusXM Radio

Previously on Dangerous Minds:
Metal Gods: Rob Halford of Judas Priest fronts Black Sabbath in 1992
Rob Halford of Judas Priest challenges his hero Freddie Mercury to a motorbike race, 1980
The time that Judas Priest looked like a hippie band back in 1975 (Rob Halford had HAIR. Lots of it)
Judas Priest’s racy photoshoot with a Penthouse Pet
Could this be the earliest live concert footage ever shot of Judas Priest?

An early shot of The Cure (L to R: Lol Tolhurst, Michael Dempsey and Robert Smith) hanging on the railroad tracks. This photo was likely taken around 1976/1977.
 
I spent a fair amount of time recently pouring through nostalgic images and musical performances by The Cure while pulling my post about the band’s first show in Boston in 1980. The Internet will often reward you with great things. Such is the case with these magical photos of Robert Smith and his bandmates, some taken as early as 1976.

If my math is correct (numbers and Cherrybomb don’t go well together) Robert Smith and drummer Lol Tolhurst were just seventeen. Bassist Michael Dempsey probably bought booze for them as he was eighteen in 1976. After you let it sink in that members of The Cure were once teenagers just like all of us, I’ll ask you to come to the realization that unlike most of us they were already on a pretty clear trajectory for greatness.

When they weren’t in school together they were already busy writing songs and by 1977 were playing gigs to a fast-growing fan base. All this noise got the teenage Smith, Dempsey and Tolhurst signed to Fiction Records (run by Chris Parry who was also an early champion of The Jam and Siouxsie and the Banshees). By the time 1979 rolled around The Cure were ready to release their stellar first album Three Imaginary Boys and a couple of follow-up singles you may have heard before “Boys Don’t Cry” and “Jumping Someone Else’s Train.” So strap in and get ready for a trip to a time before Robert Smith’s signature electrified goth hair and lipstick was a thing and see The Cure looking more like the images from your old high school yearbook.
 

Michael Dempsey, Marc Ceccagno, Robert Smith, Allan Hill, and Lol Tolhurst taken sometime between 1976 and 1978.
 

Three Imaginary Boys, likely circa 1976/77.
 
More Cure after the jump…

 
Here’s something to make up for that Divine interview on The Tube I posted on Monday - a whole thirty minutes of Genn Harris Milstead discussing Divine’s role in the 1979 theater production of The Neon Woman.

The interview is hosted by TV personality Tom Snyder, and also on hand are The Neon Woman‘s director Ron Link and Divine’s co-star (and another stone cold legend of drag/gender-bending and Warhol’s Factory scene) Holly Woodlawn.

There’s still a bit of a naff “wtf?” tone to Snyder’s questioning, but it’s nowhere near as bad as Muriel Grey’s Divine inquisition on The Tube. In fact, Snyder does a decent enough job of eventually getting past his own preconceptions and treating Divine and Woodlawn not as freaks, but as human beings with something interesting and intelligent to say.

This interview was taped for NBC’s Tomorrow show in 1979, and appears on YouTube in three parts. The quality isn’t immaculate, but it’s not terrible either, and it’s just a joy to see these people in the same room together hanging out and shooting the shit:

Divine and Holly Woodlawn on Tomorrow, 1979, part one:
 

 
After the jump, parts two and three…
 
Previously on Dangerous Minds:
 
Divine in highlights form ‘The Neon Woman’ from 1978
 
Awkward interview with Divine on ‘The Tube’, 1983