Social Graffiti:
“Los Angeles,” X

By Charles Young
George Washington High School

I first heard of X through Rolling Stone’s “500 Greatest Albums of All Time” when it was published in November 2003. The album came in at number 286 on the list, which contains some of the most respected music of all time (including The Beatles’ “Sgt. Pepper’s Lonely Hearts Club Band” and Beach Boys’ “Pet Sounds” in the top two spots).

It was the record’s cover that caught my eye — a blurry black and white photo of a fiery “X,” standing alone in the dead of night, blazing with defiance.

As West Virginia is not the most culturally diverse place, it took me about two years of scouring Web sites and record stores’ punk sections to find a copy of “Los Angles.”

From the minute I began listening, I was hooked. X was like no other punk music I had ever heard.

Other punk bands of the time, like The Sex Pistols and Black Flag, just railed against rules and attempted to tear down the pillars of society to support their own means. X was actually poetic and intelligent, pointing out the injustices and inaccuracies in society and posing solutions without becoming part of the problem.

Most punk is all about thrashing music and screaming vocals, more concerned with shock value then song content. But X blended the sped-up Chuck Berry cords of guitarist Billy Zoom with the oil-and-water voices of guitarist John Doe and singer Exene Cervenka. Throughout the album, the pair’s alternating lead vocal responsibilities created haunting, off-key melodies.

On tracks like “Los Angeles” and “Sex and Dying in High Society,” John Doe cries out against oppression and pain, creating anthems to be chanted in the streets. He casts light on the seedy underbelly of the City of Angels. On the songs “Sugarlight” and “Nausea,” X writes songs that sound as though they were created by the beat poets of the 1950s, not by 80s punk rockers.

The band melds cerebral songwriting with vivid imagery, creating an unforgettable sound.

The songs are of pain and longing. They’re the hymns of the downtrodden, songs for the pariah. “Los Angeles” is music from the people living in the fringe cultures of America, written from the outside looking in.

X showed me the power in anger and in speaking one’s mind. It taught me to disagree with what you had been and to learn to think for yourself.

“Los Angeles” was the record that made me fall in love with punk music. It was the album that made me want to cut my hair and pierce my ear.

Punk isn’t just a style of music — it’s a style of thought.