The Trouser Press

If any single thing is responsible for this mess, it's the Trouser Press. I knew about the magazine but never bothered to get a copy. An updated edition of the book came out around 1991. I read it to see what it had to say about things I already liked. Seems odd - why would I need something to tell me that the things I like are good? That didn't stop me. I liked "Valley Girl" so I decided to read what I could about the Plimsouls. Turns out one of them (Peter Case) had been some band called the Nerves around 1976. Thankfully, my handy Trouser Press had an entry for them too. Oh they wrote "Hanging on the Telephone" not Blondie? Who knew? The "See also" section for the Nerves listed, very simply, Beat. Peter Case made the Plimsouls and Nerve-mate Paul Collins made the Beat. They made 3 records (2 on a major label), no one cared and Paul Collins vanished into the early 80's. I kept the Beat in mind and picked up the records when I came across them. And boy are they good. I played them on my college radio show. I pushed them on my friends by sticking them on mixed tapes. Slowly though, something a little sad happened : I forgot about them too.

Last week I was looking around ebay for something and I saw a listing for a Nerves compilation record that had recently been put out. Not only could you get to hear all their songs at once, you could get one signed by an original Nerve. And he was in New York City. The door was open and I have learned to walk through it. I sent the seller a message to see if I could get a copy from him and get some other things signed. I half expected an email back from some pony-tailed label guy telling me to forget it. But no, it was my day. Paul Collins himself wrote back and said, "Sure". He also mentioned that he was playing with John Wicks (more on him another day) on Saturday night at a record store in Bordentown, New Jersey. It's 2 hours from my house. 1981 is only 2 hours from my house? "See you Saturday", I said. When my girlfriend called I told her all about it. She humored me. She's actually gotten pretty good at it - it was barely perceivable this time.

I called the store on Saturday to make sure the show wasn't sold out. Why I thought there was a risk of this I don't know. There's a part of me that still faithfully assumes that something this good has to be known and revered, even if only in hindsight. I packed up my records in a bag and brought them with me. I made the drive and went inside. What kind of paradise was this? I can shop for used records and then see Paul Collins in the same room? It was like the day I found out about a club in New York where they have cupcakes upstairs and live music downstairs. About 25 people turned up to see the triumphant return of Paul Collins. It turns out he has been alive and well in Spain for all these years. My mind ran through the economics of the situation and the numbers were not good. They played the night before in another metropolis, Cortland. I'll save you the trip to google maps - it's near Syracuse. $250 at the door to split between Paul Collins, John Wicks and the opening guy (more on him later too). They were supposed to play for an hour. They played for more than two. Paul Collins, who formed a band that shared bills with the Ramones before there was even a such a thing as a Clash, sat before me and played his life's work. He spoke of it with unabashed pride.

After they finished there were probably 3 or 4 guys there with original copies of the Nerves 45, made in Los Angeles in 1976 when Paul Collins was 21. We wanted them signed. In 1991, the Trouser Press referred to these as "hopelessly rare records". Yet in 2009, in a small town in New Jersey, 3 or 4 of them surface at once, returning to their maker for some sort of ratification years after they wrote their legend with the members of Blondie and the Ramones. Thank you Paul Collins. And thank you Trouser Press.