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Why did pop-punk pioneers the Ramones get no respect, ask Michael Gramaglia and Jim Fields in this exhaustive documentary. The back-to-basics band played faster and louder than anyone else on the early '70s scene, and wrote catchy melodies that evoked '60s bubblegum hits. Their skinny jeans and black leather jackets suggested '50s biker gear, but looking utterly sharp in the post-hippie age. Joe Strummer of the Clash asserts that the Ramones bridged English pub rockers and early punk bands; if it hadn't been for their 1976 London gigs, Strummer says, there would have been no Clash, no Stranglers, no Sex Pistols. Core members Jeff Hyman, John Cummings and John Calvin — rechristened Joey, Johnny and Dee Dee Ramone — all grew up in unlovely, working-class Forest Hills, Queens. They had little in common except music: In a smiley-faced era of sappy love songs and overproduced prog-rock noodling, fans of the raw power of the MC5 and the Stooges stuck together. Shy, sickly Joey was a gawky misfit tormented by obsessive-compulsive disorder. Hard-driving Johnny, who held the band together and pissed off everyone else in the process, was aging out of juvenile delinquency and sweet-natured Calvin was just drifting; along with guitarist Tommy Ramone (ne Erdelyi), who encouraged Joey to step up as lead singer, learned to play drums and produced the band's first albums, they were a lean, mean, amp-busting machine. They started arguing as soon as the Ramones were formed in 1974, only stopping when they weren't speaking to each other. Their tightly crafted pop songs received virtually no radio airplay; MTV ignored them and dozens of lesser bands scored better live bookings and racked up superior album sales. The Ramones stuck it out for 21 years, maintaining a punishing touring schedule, changing producers (the film's title refers to the album Phil Spector produced for them in 1983) and surviving personnel changes that would have scuppered a less professional group — Tommy was replaced on drums by Mark Bell (Marky Ramone), then Richard Reinhart (Richie Ramone), then Marky again; Chris Ward (C.J. Ramone) took over on bass when Dee Dee left in 1989 — before calling it quits in 1995. By the time they were finally inducted into the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame in 2002, Joey was dead of cancer and Dee Dee was two months away from a fatal heroin overdose. Though occasionally repetitive, Gramaglia and Fields' admirably evenhanded documentary gives the Ramones the respect they deserve: Fans will be grateful and the uninitiated should listen and learn. leave a comment --Maitland McDonagh
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