Let me be who I am And let me kick out the jams —Rob Tyner

It happens every year around Memorial Day and Veterans Day. War veterans get together for reunions to swap stories, reconnect with old friends, and mourn fallen comrades. And as the three surviving members of the MC5 got ready to take the stage of London’s legendary 100 Club in March for a gig, drummer Dennis Thompson mourned late singer Rob Tyner and guitarist Fred "Sonic" Smith.

"I cried like a baby before the show," said Thompson. "I sat in the hotel room by myself and the guys were still doing interviews. I had to beg off and go take a hot shower, because it was like a 12-hour day and then we had to go play… And then I just started thinking. All of these memories just flooded into me. I started thinking of Fred and Rob, and I just broke down, just let it all out. It was in me for all those years, right? It was like a release."

And after that release?

"Then I started steeling up and I said ‘Let’s go! Arrrgh—let’s go get ’em!’ " he said.

The idea for the show was hatched after blue jean maker Levi’s licensed MC5 images by artist Gary Grimshaw for a line of clothes. The band’s trademark was used without permission, but instead of heading to court, a deal was struck for the surviving members to do a live show celebrating the music of the mighty Five.

This was only the second time these three—Thompson, guitarist Wayne Kramer, and bassist Michael Davis—played together since the band’s 1972 breakup, and the first time since the Rob Tyner benefit memorial in 1991 (when they were joined onstage by Smith). Before the show, the band went through a rigorous six-day regimen of rehearsals to relearn material they hadn’t played together in years.

"I must tell you the truth, that after a couple of rehearsals, I was thinking to myself ‘how am I going to do this?’ It was a lot to remember all at once, it was a lot to get the feel for it again. I kept making mistakes and things. But it came together like it was right on time, like it was supposed to. And then by the last day… and I thought ‘Damn, we’re actually ready.’ And we went out there and kicked ass," Davis said.

Then, for the last couple of days of rehearsal, Nicke Royale of the Hellacopters joined in for what one can only assume was the assignment of a lifetime.

"He was like a little Fred Smith from my point of view. He just fit right in, because he cut his teeth on the MC5," said Thompson. "He knew those arrangements almost better than we did—in fact, he corrected us in a few spots,"

Davis agreed that Royale was the right addition.

"(Royale) was perfect. He was just wonderful. He’s a young guy, he reminded me so much of Fred over there, a little skinny long hair kid just whacking out rock and roll chord stuff. He was great," Davis said.

Thompson said relearning those old songs was an educational experience for himself.

"I got insight into how ‘Rama Lama’ should have been played—in the pocket—and how ‘Ramblin Rose’ can sound better if you play it a little more like Ted Taylor originally played it. You’ve got to remember that when we started, we were the swaggering pirates, the pirate crew, high on LSD, high on hash, and Jack Daniels all at the same time," Thompson said.

For Davis, the best part came in an increased sense of self-confidence he’s gained over time.

"I did the best I could with what I knew how to do back then. It’s 30 years later, and obviously I’ve gotten better. I play a lot better and I feel a lot better about myself, and I’m much more sure about my playing. It was easy. Once I got the mental part where it becomes automatic … the actual playing part, it was cake," Davis said.

The MC5 was always about high-energy delivery, and 30 years later, that dedication remains.

"(After the show) Dennis was hyperventilating in the dressing room, and I thought ‘Oh my god, it’s going to be the MC2!’" Davis said, laughing.

"There’s something about the spirit of this thing that never gets old. Our bodies might get old, but there’s something going on that’s a vision. I grant you, it’s a vision of youth, but I don’t think it’s exclusive to youth, either. And maybe that’s where we get into all that political trouble, too, because my vision is for empowerment, for people to have control of their lives in a stronger way. I believe rock and roll music is the path of it. I think rock and roll music is where people get happy. That’s where we lose all those blues, that’s where we get excited about being alive, instead of some dreary fucking chores we’ve gotta go through. Rock and roll is what keeps people happy and inspired," said Davis.

You say toe-MAY-toe, I say toe-MAH-toe
The semantics of the gig are troublesome. The easiest thing to do is call it an MC5 reunion. But many—including the band members—are uncomfortable with such a notion. On the other hand, the Gary Grimshaw-designed posters for the event looked like they said MC5 on them, and just about everybody slips once in a while and refers to the trio as "the MC5" (Much like the way The Other Ones were called "The Dead" so often that they ultimately adopted that moniker).

"The deaths of Fred Smith and Rob Tyner weighed heavy on my heart at the thought of presenting this music again," wrote Kramer after the show, in a response to some of the band’s critics. "How do we do this with dignity to their memories and respect to their families? One answer came quickly. This would not be an MC5 reunion gig. This would not be advertised as an appearance of the MC5. That would be in fact, incorrect. There will never be another MC5. That would be impossible. What it could be is a celebration of the music and influence of the MC5. It was about the songs and the spirit of the group, and if we were to be true to the legacy of the band, then we would have to push ahead musically, trying to move past the place where we left off all those years ago."

And the other band members echoed those thoughts.

"There’s really such indecision about what we would be. Who are we, anyway? Certainly, we can’t say we’re the MC5. But there’s something of the MC5 that we can reproduce. We are the spirit of the MC5, we are three of the guys who created that. I don’t know what it would be called," said Davis.

"I’m not comfortable with the word reunion, anyway. It seems kind of trite. So many times you see these bands—the Foghat reunion or the Spooky Tooth reunion—and it just seems like it’s so contrived to just step back in and have a payday. It really isn’t about anything, just kind of a nostalgia trip. And I don’t think Wayne or myself or Dennis are particularly keen on nostalgia trips. That isn’t really what I want to do. My goal in all of this is to be in the music business, to be active. I’ve spent so many years being inactive that I crave it. I’m not craving rehashing the old stuff. There are things there that should be repeat, but I’m not into going out and recreating the MC5 show," Davis said.

Ultimately, perhaps Thompson hit it on the head when he called it "a chance to meet together inside the music."

"You can pitch all the rest of it, as far as I’m concerned. You can take away the Levi’s, take away anything that revolves around the MC5 that’s controversial. We got a chance to play together again, and that to me is what made the event important—period—just to get up there on the stage and kick out the jams with Wayne and Mike and the spirit of Rob and Fred," Thompson said.

—Brian J. Bowe
March 2003

Photo by Margaret Saadi