Black Flag playing a show at San Pedro High School, probably in 1981 (the year Rollins joined the band).
San Pedro is working class part of Los Angeles, home to the the main port of L.A. (and thus to dockworkers, stevedores, teamsters, sailors and seafaring men of every stripe). San Pedro High School boasts a number of notable alumni, though none are as important as Mike Watt, D. Boon and George Hurley, who graduated in 1976 and went on to form the seminal punk rock trio Minutemen. Fans of 1980s teen dramas may recognize the high school as the setting of 1987′s Some Kind of Wonderful, with Eric Stoltz and Lea Thompson.
As D. Boon sang on History Lesson Part 2, “our band could be your life.”
This morning, as I was getting ready for work, my three-year-old son Nathaniel requested that I play “Sheena Is A Punk Rocker.” He requested it by name, correctly identifying the band as well (The Ramones, of course). I put it on, hoping he’d allow me to get back to dressing. I was running late, and still had to walk the dog before I could leave.
“Louder,” he said.
I raised the volume.
“Louder!” he said again, more emphatically.
I turned up the computer speakers as loud as they’d go, and reported this fact to him. He seemed satisfied, and ran off to gather his single drum and some sticks. He returned, set up his kit and started banging along. He wasn’t exactly keeping the beat, but he was dancing like a man possessed, so he earned points for intensity and creativity.
The song ended. He asked for another. I searched through the Spotify list.
As the familiar opening chords of the band’s debut single started playing I noticed my son’s head begin to bob up and down. At 22 seconds Joey Ramone shouted the opening lyrics: “hey, ho, let’s go!” He waited a moment and then repeated the lyrics, under his breath, practicing.
Our musical interlude ended after that–it was time for the real world. But if I can turn my son into a Ramones fan before he starts kindergarten, I’ll feel as if I’ve done at least one bit of parenting correctly.
Thanks to Spotify I’ve been digging back into the punk and post-punk bands of my youth (and a few I missed along the way). I’ve also be re-learning the myths, reading as much about the time, the music and the people as I can. This image accompanied the Minor Threat’s self-titled first album in 1981, and has since become iconic (Nike even tried to steal it back in 2005). Turns out the photo is of Alec MacKaye, younger brother to Minor Threat front man Ian. I guess it was just a photo somebody took at some D.C. party in 1980 or something. Everything about the photo–the scuffed boots, the shorn head, the tattered trench, the trash in the background–says punk rock. Sort of. While MacKaye looks wasted, Minor Threat were the leaders of the “straight edge” movement, which swept the nation in the early 80s, preaching the clean lifestyle (no booze, no drugs, no sex).
So it leaves one to wonder–was the younger MacKaye not a straight edge? Was the photo set up? Or maybe he was just tired.
As a child of the 70s I have an odd fascination with stickers, decals and iron-ons. Searching for vintage rock/pop culture/skate/surf stickers online is one of the best time wasters that I know of, and I do it with a vengeance that borders on obsessive. So I was pleased to come across this photo/sticker combination at Dangerous Minds.
The critic James Wood is something of an amateur drummer, apparently. This may explain his recent lengthy dive into the brilliance of Keith Moon for the New Yorker. (Most of the piece is behind their paywall, but you can get a sampling). Inevitably, the piece touches on the Moon versus Bonham debate that has raged on in dorm rooms for more than four decades.
There’s no definitive answer as to which one was best, but they are generally regarded as number 1 and 2 on most “best of” lists, including this one (from the now defunct Stylus magazine). While these rankings tend to have a classic rock-era bias, it’s safe to say they are the two finest drummers in the history of rock & roll. Both died at the age of 32 from the excesses of the rock lifestyle, though their styles were widely variant.
NB: The video above shows 2:36 of John Bonham performing “Moby Dick,” live at The Royal Albert Hall in 1970. For the full 15 minute 25 second version, go here, and prepare to sit still for a spell.
