Canadian punk rock lost one of its most vital rafter-hanging, speaker stack–climbing, crushed glass–rolling icons last week when Frank Kerr — a.k.a. Frankie Venom, the lead singer of pioneering Hamilton punkers Teenage Head — died at age 51 of complications from throat cancer.

Over the course of a phenomenal more-than-three-decade run, Venom and his fellow tireless Teenagers made a kind of true-school, gritty rock ‘n’ roll that crossed generations. The proof was in the countless testimonials that poured in from across the world and the throngs of devastated fans who showed up over the course of three visitations in Venom’s Steeltown home base — well-wishers ranged from grizzled-leather bikers to preschool pipsqueaks in Ramones shirts.

“Was I floored by the amount of people he touched? In a way, yeah; in a way, no,” says bandmate Gord Lewis on the line after Kerr’s funeral, his voice gruff and cracking. “That people of all ages took the time out to pay their acknowledgement to Frank shows how much he meant to people. It’s confirming what I always knew — that he was the genuine article, the real deal. That’s what people respond to.

“There was no bullshit with the guy,” Lewis continues. “You couldn’t bullshit him and he’d never bullshit you. It was how he approached his life. That’s why he was such a great singer. Every show was different — no plan, no script. You know the line, ‘I’ll take today, you take tomorrow’ from our song ‘Kissin’ The Carpet’? I knew him for 35 years, and that was exactly how he led his life.”

Lewis and Kerr first met playing baseball on the same field in Hamilton as preteens, but they didn’t originally hit it off. Later, they were paired up as wrestling partners in ninth grade gym class. “We were the same height and weight,” Lewis chuckles. “You know gym class — it’s pretty intimidating. And wrestling for guys, grabbing each other’s crotches, it’s kinda gross. So Frank said, ‘I’m not into this. Let’s figure out the moves and get a passing grade,’ and I went along with the guy.’”

Kerr wasn’t in the original, rudimentary lineup of Teenage Head — Lewis and Steve Mahon recruited him after drummer Nick Stipanitz got distracted. “Frank had drums in his basement,” says Lewis, “and he used to sing into a microphone that he wore on a coathanger around his neck.” It didn’t take long before Stipanitz returned to the fold, and the seminal four-piece — with Kerr front and centre — crystallized around 1975.

“We did cover songs at first, but we knew we wanted to try our own stuff. Frank [was] a true artist, and when he started writing lyrics and composing, right away we knew he was the guy.”  
Teenage Head quickly graduated from Kerr’s basement to playing Westdale High and local youth detention centres. When punk exploded in Toronto around ’76 or ’77, says Lewis, the quartet had two years under their belts. “When we went in there, it was like ‘These guys can actually play!’ Not only did we have original music, we could perform it properly. It was all timing and instinct.” Their debut self-titled album came out in ’79, and their breakthrough, Frantic City, came out the next year. Kerr and the band continued releasing material — including this year’s Teenage Head with Marky Ramone — and touring right up until the end.
In a striking coincidence of timing, Colin Brunton’s doc about one of the most notorious shows from that period — The Last Pogo, which was the final show of legendary T.O. promoters the Garys’ (Gary Topp and Gary Cormier) run at The Horseshoe in ’78 — was released on DVD the day Kerr passed. Though Lewis has watched the film on his own, he says his long-time pal and bandmate never got a chance to see it.

He says that Kerr’s sense of humour, humility and “heart that was bigger than anyone could imagine” were what made him such an ace guy. “We performed together for so long that there was never any need to talk, you know? It was all done by looks and that instinct to survive. And he never stuck it in your face that he was the lead singer. He was a team player, and we were in it together. We’re never gonna see the likes of him again. He was a true artist. He really believed in art.”

PSST…
Anarchy don’t come cheap. That’s what the folks behind Extermination Music Night learned with their last after-hours art-and-noise rock intervention by the Bloor Viaduct. After losing around $200 (due in part to having to get their truck towed out of mud and cheap attendees pitching a mere quarter into the hat), the EMN team are throwing a fundraiser this Saturday (Oct. 25) at Sneaky Dee’s. Cover’s a cool $7 for a stellar lineup that includes Feuermusik, Brides, the Matt Smith/Rob Gordon/Alex Snukal project New Feelings and a sound installation by Jesse James Laderoute. Bonus: roving snack boys AND door prizes.