...And we're back! First of all let me apologize for the previous selection. When that was written I was out of my mind with all things 49ers, so that is out of my system for now. Hopefully today's yarn will be more entertaining and informative. Now lets enter the gutter....
As I mentioned in an earlier post, music is very beloved to me. So with this edition, I hope to entertain you with the stories of a fat kid in Western Kentucky who was for all purposes a stranger in a strange land, to steal from Leon Russell, or Iron Maiden, I will leave that to your discretion.
Today I am going to for the first time sit down and relive for the first time the "popping of my musical cherries." The actual popping came in 1981, but we will keep "The greatest story ever told" for a future installment.
Ah, the topic, "American Hardcore: TFCBE" It all begins in Wickliffe Kentucky, which for you geography nerds is the exact spot where the Ohio & Mississippi Rivers merge, to form Twain's legendary river. I was a regular kid growing up there, riding my bike all over the place, playing basketball, football, wiffle ball and any other type of activities with the other kids in my neighborhood. You see, I come from the generation of kids that actually went outside to play for fun, not being forced by our parents. Any way back the point.
My dad, was a radio DJ when I was growing up, and I guess could be considered a "Boss Jock", that means that he had that booming voice, you know the stereotypical one that is made fun of by Radio guys today. He worked "morning drive" (the 6 - 9 AM shift, when everyone is DRIVING to work, hence morning drive and "afternoon drive" (4 - 7 PM shift, when everyone is DRIVING home) on a radio station out of Paducah. So as a kid, I basically grew up in a radio station. Looking back as a full blown music snob, this acts as my descent into snob-dom. Some of my earliest memories, are sitting next to my dad, as he played all these now classic records. I even had my own set of ear phones, so yes, I was a bad ass!
My musical taste at first was very much like my fathers, he was really into Motown, Otis Redding, James Brown, The Beach Boys, The Beatles. Another one of his favorites was the "power" rock of the 1970's. Bands like, Asia, Queen, Electric Light Orchestra. But, I have to give the old man credit for one thing, he loved Van Halen, hell he still does. So I think of my musical family tree, this is pretty much the root system, with the major exceptions of my musical first love, "Black Sabbath" which I stumbled across at the age of 8 years old, much by accident. But that is a love story that will be coming soon.
So my love of music, is a gift that I received from my parents, even though the Manilow, James Taylor, Neil Diamond shit she listens to I barely even consider music at all. Now to my introduction to the music scene that would take me around the United States, and bring me some of my closest and dearest friends in my lifetime.
It is 1983, and Kentucky Oaks Mall has just opened in Paducah Kentucky. Now, this is early in the descruction of the American small business era, so we had no idea that we would destroy so many lives in the name of commerce, fraternity and awesome corn dogs. But my "I don't think we are in Kansas moment, came as I entered the turn styles of this place called Disc Jockey Records. I was with friends who were looking in amazement at all the cassettes, and LP's that this place had. I had no idea that my life was about to change. My friends, who names now escape me were all looking at copies of Michael Jackson's Thriller album, Cyndi Lauper, and other mind rotting pop current then on the radio, but I was struck by this guy who appeared to be punching his own reflection in a mirror. This was the cover to Black Flag's Damaged record. I was mesmerized by it. My friends where like, what is that? I said something along the lines of, "I don't know but it looks cool!" So, the purchase was made that day, along with 2 corn dogs!
So the whole way home, in our white Chevy station wagon that reeked of puke from the time I puked in my dad's hair, this guy was staring at me. My friends just made fun of me for wasting my money on something that I had never heard before. If memory serves one of them bought a Michael Jackson "Billie Jean" poster. But, my curiosity was killing me. After dropping of friends at their respective houses, we were finally headed home, so I could finally figure out what this was, or hopefully figure out why this guy was punching his reflection in a mirror.
So the time had arrived, I unwrapped the plastic, pulled out the record, and placed it on my Panasonic stereo system, with the slide out turn table, Yeah bad ass, I know! So I took the needle and placed it on the record. Click HERE to hear what I had discovered. Holy shit, right? This was my first introduction to a guy named Henry Rollins. So for the next few months, that song played over and over and over and over. So as a fat ten year old, my two favorite things to listen to in my room, on my terms (unless Mom said it was too loud) were Black Flag, & Black Sabbath.
I had no idea that in Raleigh North Carolina there were three guys, Reed, Mike Dean, & Woodroe who were older than me, but they had the same idea. Those guys, I am proud to say are my good friends, they are the band Corrosion of Conformity. They come into play alot later in my life, but we have to get there first.
So, I have two records that I am for the first time in love with, Black Flag Damaged and Sabbath's Masters of Reality, who my cousin had on 8 track. So the fat kid, who was too heavy for the bean bag chair, but sat on it anyway would sit there for hours at a time listening to these records, and knowing musical perfection. These two albums, along with the influences of my dad, have given my musical tree its roots, and they are virtually the same some almost three decades later. Following the discovery of Black Flag, I came across other bands in time, such as Minor Threat, The Bad Brains, Dead Kennedy's, and of course COC. I started reading the liner notes on these albums and see who the bands would thank, and I would then seek these bands out. Every chance I got I would go back to Disc Jockey Records in the mall and spend all the money I had, one album at a time.
So with the popping out of the way, it is now time for me to play mentor, and suggest the best of the best in my opinion for you to learn to love American hardcore music. Before I go on, if you consider any of today's bands, like Green Day, or Sum 41, or Blink 182 hardcore, thank you for reading but please leave.
In my opinion there are several items that I consider the "Dogma" of the American hardcore genre. The first thing you need to do is pick up a copy of Steven Blush's American Hardcore: A Tribal History. This book is absolutely amazing, it has everything you need to know about everything. This book, has been made into an incredible documentary (view the trailer HERE), that features some of my person friends, and well worth the purchase. Here are some other books that I have, that would be a good intro to the American Hardcore world. The first is something I received as a Christmas present a few years ago, it is A Cultural Dictionary of Punk 1974 - 1982) by Nicholas Rombes. Rombes takes you all over the spectrum, a good read. Gimme Something Better by Jack Boulware & Silke Tudor is a look at the West Coast scene, focusing on the bay area.
Well that is about it for me, I hope you enjoyed reading this and hopefully will expand your musical horizon's to try some of the greatness that came from the American Hardcore Scene. Please leave me comments or suggestions on how this thing can improve. I am a big boy, if this sucks, which part of me thinks does wholeheartedly, say it!
Later......
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