August 2009

I was recently tooling around in my friend’s Buick and as he kicked out the jams, “That Woman's Got Me Drinking” came on, except it wasn’t the Stitches. Now, I fancy myself something of a well informed music dude, but as my friend slowly turned towards me and asked if I knew who was singing, I had to say no. It was Shane MacGowan and the Popes (nope, not the Pogues). Regardless of the fact that the Stitches apparently have broader musical tastes then I’d anticipated, MacGowan being covered by that SoCal group isn’t the only contribution to the genre that he’s made.

I saw the Queers play live once. It was at some tiny, dingy venue called Peabody’s that’s actually now a big, dingy venue. Things, I suppose don’t change. Anyway, standing outside, smoking a cigarette, my fourteen year old person was privy to mockery that would become a part of my experience in and around ‘the punk scene.’ The locale of this particular venue allowed the sidewalks to be choked with various grown up frat dudes and their skanky companions. Luckily for me, I was able to take a listen as some (pseudo) gentleman and his companion for the evening saw the marquee, assumed that band was comprised of some homosexual miscreants and then figured I was gay as a result of standing in front of the club. It wasn’t the first time I’d get called a fag, but it’s the only time I’d remember.

To me, Slaughter and the Dogs were just another punk band that cropped up on various compilations over time. The few songs that would get included over and over weren’t bad – and I kinda liked “Cranked Up Really High.” There just wasn’t anything that was so gripping being issued by Slaughter and the Dogs that it made me think I needed to own an album. I mighta been wrong, but it kinda doesn’t matter at this point. And even if it did, the band still had enough mid-range offerings as to make any (of their two) full lengths an exercise in selective listening.

Just one of the numerous reasons as to why the Normals shoulda gotten a record deal back in the day.

This is all part of the reason folks began thinking differently about the Clevo hardcore scene. I dunno if it's warranted or not, but his is some old tyme footage. And no, it's not actually a riot...

Hardcore – the variety that arose after Black Flag, Minor Threat, Bad Brains and the Necros – has really been in the throngs of weirdo infighting since the mid ‘80s. If you went to Boston  during that time and wound up in the wrong show drunk or with a leather jacket on, you mighta caught a beat down. That aside, the music also seemed to deteriorate at a pretty rapid pace. And with the infusion of anti-racists sentiment (which alone isn’t bad) and militant vegetarianism/veganism expanding its influence, the ‘movement’ that resulted seemed to become as much about politics as anything else. Most likely alotta folks associated with that went on to some enlightened way of life, so it wasn’t a total loss.

More than any other genre, I’m glad that I won’t ever be able to fully grasp how many punk bands came and went without releasing a proper disc or even making enough noise for me to have ever heard of ‘em. That’s boss. And while punk, as a whole, can be perceived as a varied music, some of the best stuff is just simple, bash your head against the wall simplicity – no more, no less, just pure impact. More specifically, though, I would imagine that the south still has more dusty, untold gems than any northern destination. Punk is a pretty urban thing. And while weird wherever it was, punk was probably a bit more palatable in a few erudite, metropolitan areas.

The Los Angeles punk scene is generally though of as where the underground element of the genre got it’s real start. While the New York bands may have been around earlier, a great many of them ended up signing to major labels relatively early on. That’s not to say that the Ramones shouldn’t have signed to Sire Records, but what if they hadn’t? Punk might be a whole bunch different. Regardless of that, the crop of SoCal punkers weren’t necessarily snatched up in the same way their east coast brethren were. In part, that was simply because the scene, for whatever reason began and remained more of an underground phenomenon, being focused at the Masque and an assortment of other shabby venues.