Queens of Noise: The Real Story of The Runaways
Even among obsessive rock fans and historians, The Runaways often go overlooked. It seems counterintuitive: After all, the band was where guitar heroes Joan Jett and Lita Ford gained their cred. In their heyday the group of teenage girls, brought together by producer and career weirdo Kim Fowley, toured the world, evading hordes of crazed fans in Europe and Japan and enlisting household names Cheap Trick and Tom Petty to open their arena shows. Drawing from influences as diverse as David Bowie, Suzi Quatro and Deep Purple, collectively The Runaways epitomized rock music in 1970s Los Angeles, their sound a unique triangulation of punk, glam and metal.
Despite the achievementsânot to mention the talentâThe Runawaysâ blip on the cultural radar tends to be relegated to one fleeting image: 17-year-old Cherie Currie (or, more likely since Floria Sigismondiâs 2010 biopic, Dakota Fanning portraying Currie), writhing in lingerie and garters, snarling her way through the not-so-subtle innuendo of âCherry Bomb.â
Itâs not like that snapshot isnât representative. Itâs just that itâs usually presented without the necessary context. Evelyn McDonnellâs biography Queens of Noise (Da Capo Press, 2013) provides just that. Through meticulous research, painstaking corroboration and interviews with Fowley, surviving band members (drummer Sandy West died in 2006) and their peers, McDonnell sifts through a messy mythology and turns up sharp analysis of the bandâs formation, its turbulent trajectory and inevitable demise and the membersâ unstable relationships with Fowley and each other.
Itâs no easy task, given that existing depictions of The Runaways (even among the tales the band members tell) tend to hype one of three distinct personas: innovators, vixens or victims. McDonnell smartly points out that The Runaways were all of the above. They were also a lot of other things: products of â70s latchkey-kid culture, reflections of LAâs societal chasm and archetypes of teenage boredom and lustâall of which makes them so fascinating 35 years later.
The teenagers, through many circumstances out of their control, seemed destined never to be taken seriously, although they were arguably as talented as their 30-something male peers. (Ford and Jett have had lengthy successful solo careers and Currie has begun performing again.) Their record label simultaneously marketed them as âthe new Stoogesâ and âyoung and extremely horny teenage femalesââthe latter quote courtesy of NMEâs Tony Parsons.
They were billed with fellow Mercury Records band Rush, a confusing pairing that resulted in the spiteful prog-rockers denying their teenage tourmates soundchecks and dismissively heckling them during shows. Mercury ignored Fowleyâs pleas to release âAmerican Nightsâ as a second single from the self-titled first record, leaving jailbait anthem âCherry Bombâ as the only source of radio airplayâeven though âAmerican Nights,â as McDonnell claims, âhas all the makings of a hit, of a rock ânâ roll party anthem to be played to death on classic-rock radio.â Fowley himself was at once the girlsâ biggest advocate and their worst nightmare, and McDonnellâs interviews withâand aboutâthe Svengali are insightfulâŚand sometimes downright hilarious.
âI wanted vaginal teeth in the second album [Queens of Noise],â Fowley tells McDonnell. âI wanted guns in their hands. I wanted them to blow up the world and piss on rainbows and set fires. I wasnât interested in doing a layered record for a bunch of assholes going to still dislike them and still doubt them.â
Through interviews with engineer Earle Mankey, Fowley and the band, McDonnell illustrates how and why things fell apart during the recording of Queens. Currieâs abortion (which resulted in Jett recording lead vocals on the thunderous title track), Foxâs pneumonia, evolving styles and exhaustion spiraled into irreconcilable differences that would signal the beginning of the end for the best-known iteration of The Runaways (Currie, Jett, Ford, West and bassist Jackie Fox).
To give The Runaways the credit they deserve is not just to put them on a pedestal or give them feminist-superhero carte blanche. It empowers them to be accountable for their whole existenceâfor better or worseâas powerful, talented women and as hormonal, rebellious teenagers. McDonnell admits that the girls at times âreinforced and propagated stereotypes of women in rockâŚthey peddled low-grade, retro, soft-porn images.â But she also gives kudos where they are due, crediting the band with both influencing subsequent riot grrrl acts and cracking the male-dominated mainstream rock world; McDonnell cites the bandâs longtime friendship with Cheap Trick and asserts, âMotley CrĂźe and Poison were practically Runaways tribute bands.â (Think about it; itâs true.) Perhaps the greatest testament to the importance of The Runaways is the fact that an analysis this exhaustive finally exists.
âSeeing footage of the band at the height of their careerâŚitâs hard to believe they didnât become one of the greatest acts of their time,â McDonnell writes. âWe donât speak their names in the same breath as the Ramones, Sex Pistols, Kiss, Aerosmith and Blondie.â
Thanks to Queens of Noise, maybe now we will.