Pure Hell discuss Noise Addiction and the 1970s punk scene

Transmission 207: Interview with Pure Hell

Pure Hell formed in Philadelphia in the early 1970s, at a time when the borders between glam, proto-punk and garage rock were beginning to erode. Drawing on the sharpened edges of British Invasion bands and the theatrical chaos of Alice Cooper and the Dolls, they developed a sound built on raw propulsion, speed, and confrontation. 

Title: Noise Addiction
Artist: Pure Hell
Release Date: 2016-11-11
Genres: Garage Rock, Punk Rock
Label: Welfare Records
Description: Interview with Pure Hell on Noise Addiction, their 1978 sessions, lost recordings, and future releases and projects.

By 1978, Pure Hell had recorded Noise Addiction, an album tracked in the UK at the height of punk’s first wave, but it was buried for decades due to disputes with then-manager Curtis Knight. The master tapes, pulled back to the U.S., remained unheard until long after the fact, while bootlegs and myth filled the silence. Over the years, fragments of their history kept surfacing—stories of lost sessions, missed tours, and uncredited influence.

Pure Hell‘s Instagram

What first made you consider music as something to actively take part in, rather than just listen to?

K.G. We all had intentions of being musicians, we were talented. That’s what bonded our friendship. For me personally, I was born with an ear for music and the agility to mimic entertainment, which was always a fascination. Television, movies, actors interested me like magic. From the first grade of elementary school I was picked or assigned to be part of the glee club or some form of art—learning instruments like the xylophone, singing in choirs, or acting in stage plays. Much more interesting than church choirs, which I actually came to dread. The more diverse entertainment I became exposed to, the greater my desire grew to play and be a part of it.

When Pure Hell came together in Philadelphia, what was the initial drive?

K.G. The musical culture of the 60s, when music evolved to be innovative with technology and psychedelic mind-altering substances. Conformity breeds mediocrity and teenagers don’t remain fixed while they’re growing. We craved the excitement.

Conformity breeds mediocrity and teenagers don’t remain fixed while they’re growing. We craved the excitement.

Were there specific records, bands, or sounds around you that felt more aligned with what you wanted to do?

K.G. Yes, the ruthless attitude of Little Richard and the teeny bopper sexiness of Chuck Berry. The unbridled music by eccentric groups during the British Invasion era—The Kinks, The Beatles, The Rolling Stones, and especially Jimi Hendrix—were mentors in the direction of the future.

The MC5 were White Panthers, and Iggy and The Stooges related to average streetwise rebellious frustration. Sly and The Family Stone had the audacity for change, while David Bowie showed tremendous foresight on albums like Space Oddity. Alice Cooper demonstrated the use of theatrics in performances. The Dolls were New York City’s version of The Rolling Stones’ version of Muddy Waters—if you can follow that.

How did the city’s atmosphere—Philadelphia, but also New York—feed into the way you approached playing?

K.G. As the 70s were striving to maintain or exceed the excitement of the 60s, we’d get our kicks breaking boundaries by going to TLA (Theatre of the Living Arts on 4th and South Street in Philadelphia) to watch screenings of NYC underground films by John Waters like Pink Flamingos or Performance, which featured Mick Jagger and Anita Pallenberg under the influence of LSD. These escapades and daring adventures helped hone the concept of our character.

What drew you to These Boots Are Made for Walkin’? Why did you choose that track in particular?

K.G. While lodging at the New York Dolls’ loft next to the Chelsea Hotel in 1975—Malcolm McLaren and Vivienne Westwood were attempting to refurbish their career on the verge of breaking up, being dropped by Mercury Records—we were part of a small circle of bands rehearsing there, along with Television and The Demons. Me and Spider frequently jammed together. I’d play bass, and Boots was one I decided to keep upbeat and make our UK debut single.

What exactly went wrong between the band and Curtis Knight that led to the shelving of the album?

K.G. Control and greed. Curtis Knight had a similar encounter with Jimi Hendrix. It was Pure Hell’s time, not Curtis’s. When label interests began to emerge on our European debut tour in 1978, he took the initial master recording back to the US.

What led you to get the band back together in 2012, after such a long pause?

K.G. The resurgence that occurred with the release of our 1978 master Noise Addiction, prompting new attention and recognition. Plus the 30th anniversary of punk rock itself—although I’ve certainly evolved since 1978.

What was the experience like playing at the Rebellion Festival after decades offstage?

K.G. Never took place. We were set to do the main stage with PIL, 999, and Bow Wow Wow, etc., but it didn’t happen. Pure Hell’s most recent appearance was at the Mosswood Meltdown Festival in Oakland, California, in 2024. The spirit of the 70s era was revived, being among NYC peers John Waters and The B-52s.

What can you tell us about Lemmy’s involvement in “The Call”? What was that session like?

K.G. Me and Spider ran into him out in Los Angeles during the 90s. We all lived near The Rainbow Bar and Grill around Sunset Blvd. After a Time Warner indie television show Pure Hell did, he joined us for recording sessions at 9th Street Studios in Santa Monica.

Actually, our relationship went back years earlier—he’d previously wanted to do The Greyhound in London with us during our 1978 European debut tour. He’d been familiar with Curtis Knight via Fast Eddie Clarke and earlier Jimi Hendrix. Besides lending his insight and backing vocals on The Call, he also played bass on a revised version of Wild One. Sessions were a blast, literally fueled swiftly with speed and whiskey.

Have you discussed releasing The Black Box officially, or is it going to stay unreleased?

K.G. I look forward to releasing several new projects by 2026, including a few tracks from The Black Box. Hindrance and adversaries have been in the way for years, but I have attachés of fresh blood and skills dedicated to carry on.

Is there any current studio work happening, or are you more focused on playing live right now?

K.G. Both. We’re planning to get back to NYC this year. Working with our agent and publicist Gina Parker-Lawton on several projects at the moment. Can’t divulge everything just yet, but we’re working with the best assets available to finally tell the true story of Pure Hell—and put out a couple of surprises too.

Photos courtesy of Pure Hell

Matteo Damiani

Matteo Damiani is an Italian photographer and author. Curator of the sites Retrofuturista.com; weirditaly.com; china-underground.com and others