Just Hanging Around

I Feel Famous: Punk Diaries 1977-1981, Angela Jaeger (Hat & Beard Press)

Angela Jaeger may feel famous but she isn’t. She sang on the third Pigbag album, was in Drowning Craze with Simon Raymonde, later of The Cocteau Twins, made an album with David Cunningham for Piano Records, and also sang with The Monochrome Set and Bush Tetras. It’s a bit unclear on Discogs what that singing entailed though, and her proudly proclaimed ‘late 70s No Wave band the Stare Kits’ basically turns out to have played only two gigs at a downtown New York club. Oh, there’s Instinct too, a band ‘formed from the ashes of Pigbag’ who were signed to ZTT but only released digital files of recordings in 2023. But, of course, it allows Jaeger to say she recorded with Trevor Horn.

I mean everyone bigs up their past at times but Jaeger is in bullshit overdrive, although ‘Punk Diaries’ is a fair enough description. I was expecting some contextualisation and storytelling, perhaps even some critical reflection, but no, this is an embarrassingly trite collection of teenage diary entries, bad drawings (‘the visual expression of Angela’s enthusiasm’!) and fading photos, written by a seemingly rather privileged and financially supported young woman going to as many gigs in London and New York City as possible and ligging hard.

Some of her encounters seem genuine enough as she bumps into people or befriends other punks in the audiences, but gradually it becomes clear she is using band members she does know to be introduced to other bands/musicians and get put on as many guest lists and obtain as many backstage passes as possible. Cleverly, she befriends those who play in both London and Manhattan so she can party hard and for free in both cities.

Anyone who lived through the second half of the 1970s and attended lots of concerts will have at times rubbed shoulders with the famous, nearly famous, or soon-to-be famous, not to mention those intent on being famous, and everyone got to make new friends at gigs and indie record shops. Some may have even been backstage or at after-gig parties, many will have kept a diary, as well as stuff tickets and flyers into album sleeves. Thankfully most of us have moved on as we grew up, which I really wish Jaeger had.

Her diary is pretty minimal and clearly self-censored in case of parental reading. She’s happy to mention her crushes, snogs and gropes, as well as the all-night parties but there is no mention of romance or sex, and very little about the music she listens to and sees performed. She is self-assured about both her appearance and ability to look after herself, but also very unsure about how to persuade her father why she is moving back to London or how to sustain the illusion she is actually studying performance in London rather than partying.

Most interesting are some of the long-gone club names or defunct bands from NYC and London in the text, along with the reproductions of gig flyers from the time. Least interesting are the flirtations with pop bands like the Clash, her on/off romance with Steve, and her inability to differentiate between Goth, Punk, New Wave, No Wave, Synthpop and Ska. I mean, this girl will listen to anything as long as she is on the guest list!

Maybe that’s unfair, she does spend more time with and writing about X-Ray Spex, The Slits and Lydia Lunch but she seems to have no time for the likes of Television or Patti Smith in New York and is definitely ‘down’ on some venues like Max’s Kansas City and, later, CBGBs, despite her visitations earlier on. But Jaeger knows what’s hip and what isn’t, and is always on the hunt for new trends, new friends and different parties.

These are the kind of memories that need turning into pub stories at best. Did I ever tell you about…? No, I thought not. Let’s leave it at that.

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Rupert Loydell

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