When the punk and garage-rock revival happened in the 2000s, Television was a band the hipsters looked to over and over for inspiration. The Strokes may have stolen their most famous riff from Tom Petty and the Heartbreakers, but the angular guitar work of Albert Hammond Jr. and Nick Valensi is a direct product of Tom Verlaine and Richard Lloyd’s tight orchestrations.
Videos by American Songwriter
Julian Casablancas named his other band The Voidz, which is not coincidental with Richard Hell and the Voidoids. Hell and Verlaine moved to New York City to become poets. Then they formed Television, and although the band didn’t sell many records, they became one of New York City’s most influential bands.
CBGB, the legendary New York punk club, initially booked “country, bluegrass, and blues.” Television convinced the owner, Hilly Kristal, to book other styles of music and though he resisted initially, he later changed his mind and unknowingly changed music history.
How “Punk” Were They?
There’s an ongoing debate over just how “punk” Television was. Verlaine had been a part of New York’s literary scene with Patti Smith, and his lyrics were far apart from the angst of the early punk bands. There was a sophistication to the band, too. Verlaine and Lloyd became more accomplished on their instruments, creating tension with Hell, who remained unrefined on bass. Verlaine and Hell, the two co-founders and old friends from Delaware, battled for creative control, and ultimately, Hell left the band.
Their early shows at CBGB ignited the first wave of punk bands. Television played on bills with the Ramones, and quickly, CBGB became hipster before hipster was a thing.
In hindsight, Television doesn’t sound like a punk band. But the punk scene originated from New York’s art and garage rock scene, most directly to the Velvet Underground. Television was playing shows as early as 1973 and was vital to the evolution and birth of the new scene emerging from Max’s Kansas City and CBGB.
The band’s early unpolished demos produced by Brian Eno sound closer to punk, though Verlaine hated the recordings. The bootleg recordings from this early period are sprinkled around the internet, but Verlaine’s perfectionism overruled Eno, and the band moved on.
So, what exactly is a marquee moon, and what’s Verlaine singing about? “Marquee Moon” is the band’s defining song; maybe the punk is in the poetry.
The Moon Is Opaque
Verlaine, refusing to explain the meaning, called the words “just atmosphere.” The lyrics read like abstract poetry. Verlaine took his stage name from 19th-century French poet Paul Verlaine, a Symbolist—reactionary imagination and dreams against naturalism and realism. Knowing the history, “Marquee Moon” makes interpretive sense.
I remember
Ooh, how the darkness doubled
I recall
Lightning struck itself
I was listening
Listening to the rain
I was hearing
Hearing something else
Verlaine and Patti Smith influenced each other in the early days of the nascent punk scene. Smith wrote about Television for the Soho Weekly News. Then, she formed the Patti Smith Group. In return, Verlaine’s tenor came to resemble Smith’s voice.
Life in the hive puckered up my night
The kiss of death, the embrace of life
Ooh, there I stand ’neath the Marquee Moon
Hesitating
The darkness may symbolize rock ‘n’ roll excess, and the Cadillac reference could be a metaphor for the standard of excess, the King of Rock ‘n’ Roll.
Well, the Cadillac
It pulled out of the graveyard
Pulled up to me
All they said, “Get in, get in.”
Then the Cadillac
It puttered back into the graveyard
Me, I got out again
Verlaine rejects the cliché in true punk spirit and lives above the temptation.
Guitar Hero
Besides Verlaine’s poetry, “Marquee Moon” has some of the finest guitar work ever committed to tape. The interweaving textures of Verlaine and Lloyd is a pure mixolydian dream that rivals the two-as-one guitar work of Keith Richards and Ronnie Wood.
Lloyd’s virtuosic precision is the perfect antagonist to Verlaine’s wobbly Fender Jazzmaster. The arrangement was meticulously worked out and perfected over many years, yet still sounds free and improvisatory. “Marquee Moon” sounds like a combination of art rock and free jazz in the hands of two guitarists in complete control of their powers. The song builds across quiet introspection and blazing explosions, leading to Verlaine’s extended guitar solo—one constant build to a surrealist climax. Something most guitarists miss, but every great player knows, is restraint. A bombastic pile of notes doesn’t ruin Verlaine’s extended guitar solo. Many guitar solos sound like they are searching for the right notes, but Verlaine precisely finds what he wants and twists and twangs his Jazzmaster into glorious submission.
When Smith sings “Gloria in excelsis Deo,” maybe her God is Verlaine.
When you purchase through links on our site, we may earn an affiliate commission.
Photo by Stephen Lovekin/Getty Images
