Unlike his peers and contemporaries, Patti Smith and Tom Verlaine, Richard Hell wanted to recreate the conditions that led to the caustic romanticism of his literary heroes Rimbaud and Baudelaire. And so his creative process was inextricably linked to his wasted street urchin lifestyle – Hell seemed to have zero interest in the dependable and predictable professionalism necessary for music biz success. His genuine poetic and songwriting talent allowed him to find meaning in the squalor rather than just luxuriating in it, although there was an element of that, too. The Voidoids were his third band, after he quickly bailed on both Television and Johnny Thunders’ Heartbreakers. Led by the syncopated twin guitar squall of Ivan Julian and Robert Quine, the Voidoids were anchored by Marc Bell (later of the Ramones) and his beats that improbably combined funk with Captain Beefheart-like abstraction. Hell’s voice was a remarkably expressive instrument, a confrontational yelp anchored by a soul singer’s rhythmic instincts.

The band’s unpredictable sound coalesced around a winning set of songs, some of which Hell had been kicking around for years. The title track is deservedly a classic, with a revved up lounge jazz chord progression and some surprisingly deft pop songwriting touches, like when Hell leaves negative space in every other repetition of the chorus line: “I belong to the ___ generation,” leaving it literally blank. “Love Comes in Spurts” and “Betrayal Takes Two” hit with acerbic wit and genuinely affecting melodies. Blank Generation pulls off the interesting trick of defining and transcending punk’s then-nascent stylistic parameters.