Julian Keith Levene was always a challenge to pin down as a musician. He was a peg that never seemed to fit into any hole. There was always an extra angle that stuck out and that’s what made him so innovative and difficult to classify. His deconstruction of guitar playing had a monumental impact on me when I was trying to figure out if I should pursue my interest in music beyond collecting records. Before PiL came into my life early in 1980, I’d dabbled with guitar lessons and halfheartedly tried to muck about with it, but when I got my hands on Public Image Ltd’s Second Edition, the version of Metal Box which was released worldwide after the initial UK film tin pressing sold out, it pulled the plug on every preconception I’d ever had about what you could do with the guitar.
PiL’s musical genius came in a two pronged attack: Wobble’s throbbing bass and Keith’s razor edged guitar. The two complimented and contrasted wildly against each other, but always in immaculate balance, with Lydon’s moaning and sneering surfing and slithering in between them. It was completely alien sounding, unlike anything I’d heard before, yet it was also compellingly inviting. It didn’t intimidate me to think about trying to play something like that. It was like they’d exposed all the plumbing and wiring inside the architecture of music and let you see how it could be put together. And you realized it didn’t have to follow the rules that were shoved down your throat by traditional music theory. The idea of “structure” suddenly had a vastly broadened scope and it wasn’t exclusionary and elitist. It plainly said to any listener willing to hear, “You can make things like this. All you have to do is give it a go!” So I took them at their word and did just that.
In less than a year, I got my own band going, scraped together some money from my part-time job and started recording my own music. PiL got me on that path as surely as if they’d come straight over to my house and showed me how to do it in person. But they were so much more than music. They were a whole attitude and lifestyle. They weren’t merely a “band”. The “LTD” wasn’t just for show. They were a COMPANY and they didn’t solely make music. They had plans for all sorts of things. Sure, ultimately a lot of that was unfulfilled at that time, but over the years, the individual members showed that they were willing to go as independent as they could, forming their own labels, creating their own products and pushing their individual boundaries in one way or another. Even the way they looked and dressed was part of it. Despite the Public Image being “limited”, they still managed to be style icons for the reject crowd. I desperately wanted my hair to be as ratty as Keith’s and was always on the lookout for a good ill-fitting old man suit. The “wrongness” became “rightness”, if you understood the language.
From 1980 until 1984, my musical world revolved around PiL. After picking up Second Edition, I moved heaven and earth to get a sanctified copy of Metal Box in its requisite tin canister. It cost me about $60 (in 1981 money) and took about 3 months to get a copy shipped over from the UK. Getting their debut LP, First Issue also took some doing as it was not released in Canada, so I had to rely on my local shop to special order the import. I remember hearing Theme for the first time and being knocked sideways by Keith’s insane guitar thrash. It felt like being in a continuous car crash with glass from the windshield constantly flying into your face. Then there was the chime of that incredible riff for the song, Public Image, the sound that launched a thousand post-punk bands. You wouldn’t have U2 without it. Getting back to Metal Box, it was the dissonant screeching of Albatross that first catches your ear as that 10 minute dirge churns away and it sounds like seagulls dying over a stagnant ocean. The other standout is Careering where the synth takes over from guitar and Keith uses his Prophet 5 to unfurl layers of queazy atmospheric drones, all shifting and mutating, never the same, throughout the entire song.
After that initial one-two punch of those first albums, the future of PiL became uncertain with the departure of Wobble after the 1980 US tour. He was such a fundamental component of their sound, it was hard to imagine what they’d do to regroup. I could never have guessed that they’d say “fuck it” to the bass and, instead, make the drums the star of their next album, Flowers of Romance. Here, Keith again comes to the table with a set of off the wall ideas which, somehow, manage to work. Really the whole album is an exercise in organized chaos and it’s something of a miracle that it came together at all, let alone to form something so uncompromising and idiosyncratic. Though there was a general movement towards percussion at the time, what with the double drummer format of Adam and The Ants and Bow Wow Wow, nobody saw PiL’s take on it coming. Even Phil Collins was impressed enough by the sound of PiL’s drums to hire their engineer to get him the same sound for his next album. But Keith’s standout track from this set is the instrumental, Hymies Him, a piece composed for potential use in a soundtrack using a Balinese Gamelan Richard Branson had picked up for the Townhouse studio. It’s a remarkably rich sounding piece, full of exotic flair and intrigue.
After the album was completed, a promotional trip to NYC resulted in an unexpected opportunity to perform at the Ritz where PiL were invited to make use of the club’s state-of-the-art video projection system. With only John and Keith available to perform, they set about hiring a local jazz drummer and concocting a sort of video installation concept. The idea was ambitious and quite ahead of its time, but Keith was always keen to explore the potential of new media, so they arranged to perform behind the screen while the live video would project them out front. It wasn’t meant to be a live gig like a regular band, but the audience weren’t in any way clued into that. Technical issues with the video resulted in the images of the band not showing up clearly on the screen, which set the whole night into a tailspin. Egged on by John and Keith taunting the audience, it all descended into a literal riot, turning it into what has become PiL’s most notorious live performance ever.
Though they briefly returned to the UK after that, John was fed up with the constant harassment by the police, who regularly raided his home in Gunter Grove, along with the constant nuisance of fans and freaks showing up on his doorstep at all hours. With that, John and Keith packed up and moved to NYC, taking up residency in a rented loft. With Martin Atkins on tour with Brian Brain in the US, the timing was right for him to reconnect with PiL, bringing along his bassist collaborator, Pete Jones. In 1982, the group began work on recording their next album, tentatively called “Welcome to the Commercial Zone”, a title inspired by signage they’d seen near where they had their loft. Lydon took a break to go to Italy to work on his first feature film role in Cop Killer, aka The Order of Death, while Keith, Martin and Pete were left in NYC to record the instrumental tracks for the new album. At this point, it was principally Keith who was directing the musical creations going on and the project was going in a vastly different direction from what had been done with Flowers of Romance.
The idea of “commercialism” was sort of seen as a challenge to make music that was both accessible while maintaining the sense of innovation which had characterized their first three LPs. In order to help fund recording, once John was done filming in Italy, the group began touring the US, traveling coast to coast to help revive the group’s fortunes and get people talking about them again. It was at this time that they came to Seattle and I had the chance to see the newly reconstituted PiL, and it was glorious! It was one of the most intense live shows I’ve ever seen and I was stoked to be able to see them back in top form again and hear some of the new songs. But the waters were troubled and would hit the boiling point early in 1983.
While still working on Commercial Zone, an offer came up to perform in Japan. It was a lucrative opportunity and included the release of the first material from the CZ sessions, a 12” single of This Is Not A Love Song. Somehow, wires got crossed about different mixes of the song being considered for the release and Keith found himself working on a remix while John was off meeting with reps from Japan. Keith’s efforts were, apparently, in conflict with what John wanted and the result was that John told Keith, in no uncertain terms, to immediately stop what he was doing and “get out of HIS studio”. It all blew up into a conflict which was irreconcilable and Levene found himself out of the band while Lydon hired some lounge band session musicians to go with him and Martin to Japan.
Keith’s response to being ousted was to take the rough mixes of Commercial Zone and, allegedly with the blessing of Branson, press them into a plainly packaged white label limited edition LP, which Keith released on his own hastily set up PiL Records Inc imprint. Keith would pile boxes of records on his skateboard and deliver them to the local record shops himself. A few copies of the LP managed to find their way to Vancouver and I snapped one up after waiting for ages to see another new PiL release after the Japanese 12” for Love Song finally surfaced. This was all after PiL had made a huge announcement before Keith left that they were diversifying into all these different corporate sub-entities to handle different aspects of the business. There was Public Enterprise Productions and Multi Image Corporation to handle live performances and video/film projects, etc. All of this seemed to be thrown into chaos now.
John & Martin continued on with PiL and released This Is What You Want, This Is What You Get, which was an LP that came quickly on the heels of Keith’s Commercial Zone LP in 1984. It had many of the CZ songs, though completely rerecorded with session musicians replacing Keith’s parts. There was also a leftover from Flowers reworked slightly for the new album and a couple of new tracks Lydon recorded with Martin. The two LPs stood toe to toe with each other and reminded me of that Star Trek episode where Kirk has a transporter accident and is split into two people, each with traits of the other, but each somehow incomplete. That’s how these albums felt. They were parts of the same whole and each had its virtues, but they were also both lacking something. One couldn’t help but feel like they’d have made a spectacular whole if they could be fused together.
After this, Keith seemed to disappear for a couple of years until the release of his Violent Opposition EP in 1987, which was followed by another EP, 2011 Back Too Black. These were then combined with some additional tracks for the 1989 Violent Opposition album. By this point, he’d moved with his then wife to LA and was doing some session work producing groups like Red Hot Chili Peppers. After that, Keith’s music career became exceptionally sporadic and intermittent. I heard that he’d gone into working in IT/digital media, but there was little information surfacing on his activities. He was effectively silent throughout the 1990s with only a few guest appearance credits showing up throughout the decade.
In 2002, Keith emerged from the shadows again with a brand new website and “band”, Murder Global. There was a new EP, Killer In the Crowd, and a video to go along with it. It seemed like he was about to jump back into the music business again after a decade of absence, but the traction from this seems to have been quickly lost as Keith, again, disappeared save for the odd guest appearance until 2010 when he did this bizarre PiL revival gig with Wobble where they hired a Johnny Rotten impersonator to do vocals and they played all the old PiL songs! I remember coming across YouTube clips from the show and wondering what the fuck I was looking at as it sounded remarkably bang-on to what PiL should be, more so than the revived PiL that Lydon was touring around with at the same time. In 2012, Wobble & Levene released an EP and album of brand new recordings, reviving their collaboration and showing themselves off as the true musical innovators of PiL, while Lydon was touring with what felt like a shadow of the original.
Keith followed that up with the Search for Absolute Zero album of brand new solo recordings. Suddenly he was all over social media, particularly on Twitter. He’d follow-back anyone who followed him and was always willing to engage with people, responding to every inquiry. Absolute Zero was a standout collection of new songs, showing Keith was still able to put things together in a way that only he could conceive. He was doing music like he’d never done before and it was all sounding great. After completing that project, the ghosts of Commercial Zone began to surface as the 30th anniversary of its release came up. Keith ended up going to Prague where he began recording what would become CZ2014, what he conceived of as his ultimate realization of the ideas inherent in the original Commercial Zone project. This was all part of a larger umbrella project Keith regularly referred to as “2051”. It’s not clear what that all entailed, but it was something Keith enthusiastically talked about in interview as tying together all his work over the years. The mechanics and physical manifestation he intended where never clearly elucidated, but it was obvious he had SOMETHING in his mind.
It was around the beginning of CZ2014 production when I was able to establish a personal interaction with Keith. I’d started to exchange messages with him and had commented that I wished I’d been able to contribute to his Indiegogo campaign that was partially funding the project, but that I was unemployed and had no extra income. I was also dealing with health issues. Keith, in an act of great generosity, sent me a complete set of recordings from the new album as a gift. I wrote a review for it all, which Keith loved and shared wherever he could. I also started creating little promotional memes for him to share to help generate publicity for the project. It was all going great until Keith posted a video on his YouTube channel that included a “dedication to Ugo” in the title/description. This inadvertently caused something of a storm with his principal financial backer, who was partially financing the recordings in Prague. They were incensed that they didn’t get a dedication and I did and it all got very weird and awkward and I kinda withdrew from any further direct involvement in the promotion of the project.
Subsequently, I kept my distance, but also kept tabs on Keith’s activities as he moved on to doing a series of bespoke “Teenage Guitarist” limited edition art pieces and began publishing biographical texts about his days with the Clash and forming PiL. He was doing original paintings and selling them with CDs and records and copies of his booklets. He had a few different websites up and it seemed like he was all over the place with talk of a film project in the works as well, but then it all turned into a legal nightmare as his relationship with his business partner turned toxic and he was ensnared in a web of lawsuits and litigation. These issues even managed to hold up the release of Keith’s last major recording project, Jah Wobble’s Very British Coup single from 2019. With all that going on, it seemed like Keith vanished from social media and the music business. I only found a couple of interviews with him after that talking about his Bitcoin interests, but nothing relating to any new musical or artistic projects. Until hearing about his death, I had no idea he was ill or suffering from liver cancer. Hearing that hit pretty close to home because it’s what killed my dad back in 1987.
Keith was a spiky person in a lot of respects and that’s one of the things I loved about him. I remember seeing him and John on Tom Snyder’s Tomorrow show in 1980 and being in stitches as they made Tom beg for any kind of response to his often inept and obviously uninformed questions. Tom was usually a much better interviewer, but he seemed stumped by these two. Keith was also a bit brutal on social media. After opening up to everyone, he turned the tables and started to block anyone who said anything he didn’t like. I ended up getting blocked when I made a dumb joke about a guitar of his that had been stolen in 1983. It was just a silly comment, but it was enough to get me on Keith’s shit list. The situation with his ex-business partner was a mess and they were seemingly everywhere whenever anyone mentioned Keith, ready to pounce on even the most innocent comments. It’s not surprising he gave up on social media for all practical purposes. I was hoping he might be coming back again after seeing him talking about Bitcoin, but he never responded to my inquiry when I tried to contact the Twitter account he gave out during one of his last interviews.
Hearing about him passing at such a relatively young age is a huge shock. Though his output could be sporadic and infrequent, when he did get it together to do something, he managed to make an impression and do something unexpected and innovative. He certainly made an impact on me. I wouldn’t have pursued music as a form of expression had it not been for him and Wobble showing me that I could do it too. I’m sure he did that for a lot of people and that’s a pretty good legacy to leave behind. Oh and there’s all that revolutionary mind blowing music too.
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