Some people are sent to this world for the express purpose of being loud. Gloriously, life-affirmingly loud.
Paul Armstrong was a guitarist--a really loud guitarist--and he was probably the single most rock 'n' roll person I ever knew. PA was born in the '50s, right around the time when King Elvis the First declared dominion over Heartbreak Hotel, and Chuck Berry ordered Beethoven to roll over and tell Tchaikovsky the news. The flying saucer that carried baby PA to this planet brought him to England, and that green and pleasant land would soon create its own raucous noise, playing an integral part in PA's high-volume personal soundtrack throughout the days and nights of his emphatically loud life.
Armstrong's family emigrated to Syracuse, NY at the dawn of a New Frontier, a torch passed to a new generation. When the Beatles led a British Invasion to reclaim the wayward colonies, young PA thought the Fab Four were okay, but he preferred the Dave Clark Five, the Rolling Stones, the Kinks, the Who, the Small Faces, the Move. They were louder. As the '60s became the '70s, PA picked up a guitar, added the likes of Mott the Hoople, Slade, and eventually the Sex Pistols and Eddie and the Hot Rods to his palette of UK influences, plugged in, and turned the volume up to magnetic North. Paul Armstrong's amp went to 11 before anyone heard of an amp going up to 11.
Paul was in bands: Amanda Jones, which also included a guitarist named Steve Miller (not the famous one, and soon to choose the nom de bop Arty Lenin), and an early version of Rochester, NY's phenomenal pop combo New Math. PA worked at a great record shop called Gerber Music--kid in a candy store!--and so did Arty, a new friend named Gary Frenay, and a pop-infatuated kid named Tommy Allen. In 1977, guitarists Paul Armstrong and Arty Lenin, bassist Gary Frenay, and drummer Tommy Allen became the Flashcubes.
And man, these guys were loud!
The Flashcubes began as a pop band disguised as a punk band, or maybe a punk band disguised as a pop band. Power pop. But the punk aspect was not mere artifice; Flashcubes live sets routinely included music from the Sex Pistols' songbook alongside (you guessed it!) loud covers of the Beatles and the Raspberries. Gary was already a prolific songwriter, and Arty was also writing, so PA rolled over his own Beethoven to create songs like "I Need Glue," "Damaged Beyond Repair," "Student Rape," "Do The Jumping Jack," and "Got No Mind," the latter deeply and triumphantly influenced by another loud pop band, the Ramones.
I tell ya, while I was always captivated by the cumulative punch, buzz, hooks, and sheer, chaotic melody of a Flashcubes live show, this band could clear a room of nonbelievers in seconds flat. I remember bringing a friend to see the 'Cubes in '78, and she was horrified. Horrified. She thought we were playing a joke on her, and we had to take her home immediately. The same thing also happened again with a different friend. Even into the '90s, when the Flashcubes played on a bill at a gig attended by scores of local dignitaries, all of the suits and fancier folks fled in pained terror, and I think they were outta there by the time the Flashcubes finished their second song. Then, the room belonged solely to us. To the faithful.
The loud, giddy faithful.
As we bid farewell to the rock 'n' roll soul that was Paul Armstrong, maybe it's wrong to focus so much on his predilection for volume. Paul Armstrong was more than just loud; he was rock 'n' roll, and he was spirited, enthusiastic, creative, energized, ambitious, forward-looking. He was also private, and he insisted on keeping his failing health a secret to fans. He had always seemed so tireless, at least until illness sapped his strength and somehow made him...damn it, mortal. He was always nice to me, starting when I was a teenager seeing the Flashcubes in the '70s, and in 1980 when I booked his first post-'Cubes band the Most to play in my college town of Brockport. This dynamic continued into this newfangled 21st century:
As we executed his idea of getting Syracuse bands from the '70s and '80s to regroup for 2014 and 2016 live shows we billed as Bright Lights!.
As 1.4.5. and Perilous agreed to perform at a release party for my Ramones book in 2023, and PA let me join in to sing lead on "Rockaway Beach."
As we coordinated a Flashcubes tribute album in 2025.
And as he and Gary contacted me to ask if I'd be interested in writing a book about the Flashcubes. That book remains a work in progress, and I very much regret PA didn't live to see it published. In life, PA carried his inimitable spark from the Flashcubes to the Most to 1.4.5. to the Richards, and back to 1.4.5. and the Flashcubes as well. He was one of the most important figures in the history of Syracuse rock, and I hope someday his contributions will be properly recognized everywhere.
And it may conflict with the image of PA as a loud and cantankerous punk, but PA was kind, even sweet in his own way. Paul Armstrong's rock 'n' roll heart was big: Big in Japan, big in Syracuse, big in Boston, big throughout the fabric of music and life. Paul Armstrong was one of a kind, in all the best ways possible.
(And I join the loud chorus of so many others, repeating the all-too-familiar refrain: Fuck cancer.)
This week, we offer an Irish wake for a Syracuse punk, a celebration of a man whose work with Gary, Arty, and Tommy meant as much to me as the works of your John, Paul, George, and Ringo, and your Joey, Johnny, Dee Dee, and Tommy. Here's to the guy who brought the noise to Syracuse, a grateful thank-you to the impact Paul Armstrong has had upon my life. As we fade, lights remain bright. PA, I would wish for you to rest in peace...but who are we kidding? By now, you and your best bud Ducky Carlisle have probably lined up celestial gigs with the Ramones, with Lemmy, with David Johansen and Johnny Thunders. Let's see if you can clear a room in Heaven like the Flashcubes could clear a room on Earth.
Godspeed, Paul Armstrong. This is what rock 'n' roll radio sounded like on another Sunday night in Syracuse this week.
Play it loud.
This Is Rock 'n' Roll Radio with Dana & Carl airs Sunday nights from 9 to Midnight Eastern, on the air in Syracuse at SPARK! WSPJ 103.3 and 93.7 FM, streaming at SPARK stream, and on the Radio Garden app as WESTCOTT RADIO.
You can read all about this show's long and weird history here: Boppin' The Whole Friggin' Planet (The History Of THIS IS ROCK 'N' ROLL RADIO). You can follow Carl's daily blog at Boppin' (Like The Hip Folks Do).
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Carl's latest book The Greatest Record Ever Made! (Volume 1) is now available, and you can order an autographed copy here. You can still get Carl's previous book Gabba Gabba Hey! A Conversation With The Ramones from publisher Rare Bird Books. If you like the books, please consider leaving a rating and/or review at the usual online resources.
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