Zoom and Co. nothing short of X-traordinary

REVIEW: After more than a decade, Billy Zoom rejoins the L.A. punk greats. The result? Propulsive perfection and a reaffirmed vision.

March 2, 1998

By BEN WENER
The Orange County Register

X

The faithful knew all along, as the faithful always do. They knew it would never be the same without him — even if Carl Perkins and Keith Richards had been his replacements.

Now, more than a decade later, those same grumbling voices that claimed X, Los Angeles' greatest punk group, was washed up after 1985 may feel vindicated. Given the irrefutable evidence of the band's tornado-like reunion show Saturday at the Hollywood Palladium (the first time the original lineup has played together in 13 years) the truth is now so embarrassingly obvious: X just isn't X without Billy Zoom.

He is easily the strongest guitarist to emerge from the punk boom, but Zoom's versatile playing transcends the genre. His killer licks — technically astonishing rockabilly leads with a glimmering, metallic edge — are as unique and vital to X's sound as the discordant vocal counterpoint of its stars, singer/bassist John Doe and vocalist Exene Cervenka.

Each member, of course, even drummer/wallop-king D.J. Bonebrake, brought something irreplaceable to X, and all four had many moments during their way-too-brief 75-minute set to spotlight their roles.

But what an exceptional treat it was to see Zoom's ever-smiling face, sparkling silver Gretsch and trimmed-down pompadour back in place. Not surprisingly, everything about X's set was propulsive perfection. Sticking almost exclusively to material from their first four albums, band members (a little paunchier but no less punchy) tore through 25 zingers, none of which has lost a smidgen of power.

Name a favorite and they probably played it: a blitzkrieg-bopping "We're Desperate" that found Exene at her most kewpie-doll-gone-wrong manic; vicious, inspired takes on "White Girl" and "Because I Do"; a heartfelt and stunning "Unheard Music"; excellent versions of "Hungry Wolf," "Blue Spark," "Adult Books" and, naturally, "Los Angeles." They even threw in "Breathless" and "Wild Thing," perhaps just to let Zoom shine.

All of it was done with no frills, no phoniness, no gee-it's-great-to-be-back speeches.

A bittersweet version of "The New World" reminded everyone why X's wicked mix of rock 'n' roll glory and punk fury was so special — and it goes well beyond Zoom's heavenly playing.

The band's Americana-drenched approach always stood for something besides rebellion. It was a savage critique of modernity. It was about battling back the busy feeding frenzy of technologically enhanced living with some Chuck Berry and Bukowski, common sense superseding frantic action, and about fending off cynicism before it ate us alive.

Like Radiohead's "OK Computer," X's music remains a blunt argument against what is often deceptively dubbed "progress," opting instead for an open-minded reliance that simplicity will out. It's not tune in, turn on anymore. Rather, turn off and tune up.

"The world's a mess; it's in my kiss," John and Exene once caterwauled. And those puckered-up pair of lips still taste as salty as ever.

Especially when Billy's playing the opening riff.