Punk Rock Colleague & Historian and Professional Consultant
Hudley Flipside
Punkast
Jessica Schwartz Professor of Musicology UCLA & Tequila Mockingbird
July 16 2025
Women and Punk Rock Day. Bitchin’!
Today is a punk rock-themed day, and I wanted to share a few interesting posts. After spending hours cooking in a hot kitchen, I finally checked my messages in my cool office and was pleased to find an interview and a book announcement.
Both are a thrill to me. Being included in the history of Punk Rock is bitchin’, also the women who helped influence an early scene is even more bitchin’. I feel a wonderful inclusion that makes me feel like I said, makes me feel bitchin’, and that is a goal in my senior life to feel as bitchin’ as I can.
One is an interview I did a while back with Jessica Schwartz Professor of Musicology UCLA, PUNKAST, who set up a punk conversation with me. Glory, glory Tequila Mockingbird set in on this one too.
Genny Schorr’s book, All Roads Lead to Punk, is now available for pre-order, eliciting an excited physical reaction from the writer.
Joanna Spock Dean (RIP) and Genny gave me a song to put on my LOS ANGELES FLIPSIDE FANZINE THE NARRATIVE DOCUMENTARY / FILM. EPEISODION TWO interview with Original Punk Staff Tory Paisley. (Jorge Torres) Has a PhD in Musicology from Cornell University. Associate Professor of Music at Lafayette College.
Featuring BACKSTAGE PASS’S song “Let me Show You Love.”
All Roads Lead To Punk – BOOK + 7″ record set by Genny Schorr
Punk Rock Colleague & Historian and Professional Consultant
Hudley Flipside
“Fogerty claims the song is about “the apocalypse that was going to be visited upon us”. He also said that when the band was learning the song he recognized the contrast between the apocalyptic words and the happy melody. He said, “It wasn’t until the band was learning the song that I realized the dichotomy.”
“Bad Moon Rising” is a song written by John Fogerty and performed by Creedence Clearwater Revival. It was the lead single from their album Green River and was released on April 16, 1969.”
I can see that there are many artists that have done this song… some really stupid like Satin Puppets and Nxghtshade, old news… ick so redundant.
Yet the best is the original by CCR…
5 days until a full moon as the harbinger of the autumnal equinox approaches. Fires, earthquakes, and lightning… yes. It feels extreme. Glad the heat wave in California broke… yet we did have an earthquake today here in Malibu California.
Fires are happening too. It does not make one want to shout for joy…
The holidays and my dad’s birthday all bring up memories of my family that I grew up with. It has been about ten years since both of my parents died. They both lived a long, good life. I think it is good to think about loved ones and remember them. It is a seasonal thing too.
My dad was a WWII Vet. He discovered veteran benefits where he could travel really cheap anywhere around the world. So, Mom and dad did just that. They traveled everywhere.
All their five children grown up and independent, mostly. They took off.
As a teenager in High School, it was kind of strange not having mom and dad there. Yet, my older brother or sister reluctantly helped out.
In the late 1970s and through the 1980s mom and dad continued to travel.
I was running a punk rock fanzine at the time. I gave them some issues to give out to any punks they met up with. This image is from Germany. Mom with a local punk rocker. It must have been around 1984.
The last few nights the Coyotes have been howling. I never have heard this before. Loud and in front of my home. As the full moon approaches tomorrow and the few days that follow the first full moon of autumn.
I celebrate my many years of this song and a lifelong celebration of the “She Wolf” as a symbol of being wild. A history that goes back to my archaic ancestors who were once free and were then persecuted by patriarchy. Creating the word “Lycanthropy” as a word of injustice and control by their insane Roman Catholic Inquisition.
Again, we are at a time when the “She Wolf” is howling and calling forth for equality, for the freedom to be who we are without judgments and with no control by the patriarchy.
Celtic Wolf
“We do have myths. Myths nourish the old soul with even older stories. They give us strange images and amazing suggestions; these promote speculations that activate the aging mind.”
~ Hillman, James. The Force of Character: And the Lasting Life
Oh, I grew up with the Werewolf story. My best friend Gigi and I walked down to the local market with our pennies for candy. Then back up the wild hills, what we kids called “the Indian trails,” to watch scary movies on Saturday. Only with a big pillowcase full of candy. We knew this quote by heart,
“Even a man who’s pure at heart and says his prayers at night, will become a wolf when the wolfbane blooms and the Autumn moon is bright.”
The original quote written by screenwriter Curt Siodmak is “Even a man who is pure in heart and says his prayers by night may become a wolf when the wolfbane blooms and the autumn moon is bright.”
Moving forward to the early 1980s when I played Charged GBH’s song for the first time. It was such a treat. I became a kid again climbing the “Indian trails” once more.
The wild sage bushes, hills of grass and sun above and the windy blue sky. I was free running and rolling through the wonder of youth. The easiness and thrill of being scared by good old monster films. Walking home at night with the full moon coming up from the Verdugo Mountain Range and hearing owls singing!
I never saw the band play the song live in the 1980s. They would tease us. But Ross and Jock are very clever and played a new song.
Then a few years back 2007 when they were touring in the United Sates, we went to see them in Ventura California. Close to my hometown. They must have known we were coming! As we were walking towards the event from behind the theater I heard a call,
“Hudley, Hudley…”
We saw Ross screaming from the second story room. His English slang-accent endearing to my heart. Looking up we heard him tell us to wait there, he had something to tell me.
So, when we were in front of the theater Ross and Colin came out. Colin came up to me and said,
“Hudley, we have a real treat for you. We are going to play the old songs.”
I often got on their cases. Asking them to play Lycanthropy. Even had them write out the lyrics to the song on a napkin. Which I still have. It only took about thirty something years to finally hear GBH’s song Lycanthropy live.
Well, that about does it this year with my little story about a band, a song, wolfbane and the first full moon of Autumn.
As ritual goes every first full moon of Autumn, since first hearing the song Lycanthropy, I listen to the song! I dance, howl, and enjoy my childhood and youthful rebellion again! I enjoy the song so much! All the good wild feelings are there!
“Aging makes metaphor of biology. The organic changes are a form of poetic speech, rewriting personality into character.”
~ Hillman, James. The Force of Character: And the Lasting Life
“Most people were in bands, if not they did magazines, records, owned stores did artwork etc… it was a scene that begged to be contributed to, and ripe with contributors… X-8 and Tory were in Low Budget, who made their Hollywood debut playing over the Dils at the Whisky, Larry Lashwas in a weird Quick sort of band, Pooch was in a progressive (!) band, and I was their friend, couldn’t play anything, but still wanted to be involved.”
Al Flipside
Los Angeles Flipside Fanzine Issue #1 August 2, 1977.
Cover of my electric punk guitar.
I am not a musician. Sure, as a kid I played my parents old player piano. I could hear a song and I then played it on that old lovely musical hardwood black upright piano. My mom got me an acoustic guitar when I turned 16. Along with it was a record to learn chords. I did not follow it through.
I appreciate the lyrics and the sound. I have a knack for listening to the song in a way that is so satisfying to me and as my life went on, I found others like myself. Journalists, fanzine writers and ‘scenesters’ who supported a growing musical world. I will leave the real musicians and their creative genius to themselves. I sure love to hear and feel their songs though.
My dream last night took me to a multilevel club. It had a front door and back door; it had a bar and an outdoor patio. It was very easy to access. I had booked a one-day event to perform. I had my old guitar with me at all times. A guitar a band member gave me, and we had cut out the “Quaker Maid” milk symbol from a large ‘sheet metal sign’ to place on the front of my guitar.
Why I pulled that old guitar I had from the 80s into my dream seems strange to me. I also had my old fender amp.
There was a small stage in the bar where I practiced. Realizing I did not have a clue what I was doing. Yet when I touched my sweet maid, it made a loud punk sound. I thought this to myself while dreaming,
“I am going to go on stage here and play for my friends. Not having a clue what I am doing, I will just improvise … like I always do,”
The first person who greeted me at the door was Shawn Stern. He was drinking a beer and seemed very happy. Then as I walked through the club. The club was peppered with many characters, and I thought to myself,
“I will play a chord from my sweet maid and then read something from an editorial from an old issue of Flipside. Maybe this can be a spoken word event with improvised guitar sounds?”
Hudley, Glen E. Friedman, Shawn Stern, Lee Ving. Taken from Let Them Know 2008; The Story of Youth Brigade and BYO Records. /Stern Brothers.
Outside on the patio I sat with a couple of gals who were talking about another show. I was cool with that and then walked in Cliff Roman.
“The guys at that show were wearing TUXEDOS.”
He had a upside down smile on his face when I smiled at him as I was holding my sweet maid. Cliff was wearing all black with a big oomphy black sweater.
I realized I was at a club without my mask on. It felt so good to be out and about again. No fear and happy to be hanging out at a club again with others.
Then I awoke. I don’t go out to events much now. It seems like I still do in my dreams all the time. This punk rock thing is deep in my psyche!
1980. Drawn directly on my leather. X-8 gave me this jacket.
My story is a tributary that flows into a larger living water of music that is beyond me now. For all those that were there from the beginning I know you have a story to share too.
~ Hudley Flipside
2019 is when I completed the template on my memoir. Catching images and people that still run through my psyche.
Just the other night in a dream I ended up backstage. The door opened and before I knew it five big punks from a band, and I were taking pictures. Their friendly arms around me made me feel inclusion.
It is a time that still haunts me. As in every generation of my life. All are unique times. Vastly changing and different generations.
I wrote My Punkalullaby as my two boys were growing up. It is not a perfect story, but it does hold a mythos of punk rock. I just received copyright for my book. I am celebrating three years of mission complete as my book moves into the world. A rebellious history about a young woman who help document a punk rock scene.
It is comforting to know that several of the bands I love are still out playing. There is not a scene like there once was but now the punk genre is solid and so the story moved forward.
Below is an excerpt of Christmas day 1978.
“One empty Christmas day, Crazy Keith and I took the bus from South Gate to Woodland Hills where my folks lived. We had to make a stop in Hollywood to transfer buses. The hollow feeling as we waited for the bus on Hollywood Boulevard still impresses me with the echo of merry-go-round music.
A miniature one was going around and round on top of a truck parked nearby. There was an offbeat sound of music, and trash filled a lonely boulevard before us. An old lady down the street walked slowly toward the bus stop where we sat. She was searching in trash cans.
When she reached us, the skinny crippled woman held out a half-eaten apple. Not as a gift but for money.
I lost Crazy Keith a year later somewhere to someone and quickly got over his obnoxious, talkative, and controlling personality and moved on.”
~ MY PUNKALULLABY, HUDLEY FLIPSIDE
Click on image below to take you to where My Punkalullaby is sold.
‘In the sadness of your smile love is an island way out to sea
But it seems so long ago we have been ready trying to be free.”
John Charles Lodge (20 July 1943 – 10 October 2025) was an English musician, best known as bass guitarist, co-lead vocalist and songwriter of the longstanding rock band the Moody Blues.
The writer reflects on a recent dream of wanting to connect with a band, expressing feelings of grief over lost connections with musicians and friends. They reminisce about the Goldenvoice Celebration, where despite enjoying old friendships, they felt distant from the bands. The author grapples with political concerns as an important election approaches, contrasting ideals of freedom with the potential for poor leadership. They express disappointment over the outcomes of youthful rebellion and emphasize the emotional toll of being just a fan, while recalling the impact of a past election and lamenting the Electoral College.
On Sunset. May 2015. I am wearing my Bernie Sanders T-Shirt for president 2016.
With some punk chicks from a younger generation.
Punk Rock Colleague & Historian
Hudley Flipside
The fabric of prophet’s ages old
Drones on and gathers mold
Gets a weekly airing from a fool on high
Who talks and talks till his throat’s dry
The Prayer of a Realist.
GBH ~ City Baby Attacked by Rats
I awoke to an amber moment this morning swirling in my mind and like Kurt Vonnegut’s character Billy Pilgrim from the novel Slaughterhouse-Five, I like to dwell and investigate these moments of experience. See if some golden truth is pushing itself up from my unconsciousness to my consciousness.
It may be similar to a grain of sand irritating an oyster or some wondrous pearl. Maybe only linking up a few different generations of people or friends like butterflies taking their nectar from the same sunflower. Is it all randomly placed in time … maybe not? In truth I do not think so. Which gets an old dame to pondering.
Two bands from Birmingham, a major city in England’s West Midlands, brought forth two of my favorite bands. Each band speaks and supports a different generation. The members of the band walked the same streets and knew the smell of their home. Mothers (music venue) linger in both of their memories.
The Moody Blues and Charged GBH were playing the same week. One at the Greek theater and the other at the Roxy Theater (West Hollywood). They both touched down on southern Californian soil. It was revelatory to me. Just the fact that they were both playing the same week was enough to satisfy my glowing and rebellious soul.
Was this a random event or is there more to the story? What is the possibility of this happening and did anyone else notice this random act of Birmingham music? A mist joining two generations of music ached in my inner being of light and dark particles and both danced and started vibrating to a strange tune.
It was a contrary experience for me. I got two tickets for the Moody Blues. I bugged Ross, bass player of GBH to be on the guest list at the Roxy. This was going to happen … I felt it when they both touched Los Angeles County. I think the best feelings are when waiting for a band to play while they are touring. The element of music and surprise and favorite songs playing is a revolutionary experience… even if I am the only one feeling this.
It was so intense that coming week. It was like when I found out that my ‘great Grandfather was born in Middlesex, a historic county in southeast England. It was important for me because William Blake also was raised there as a child, they both walked the same streets at one time. Both sharing the smell of their home. Though I never met either my great grandfather or William Blake they both left me with stories and share in that pleasurable place of my good imagination.
“Piping down the valleys wild
Piping songs of pleasant glee,
On a cloud I saw a child,
And he laughing said to me:
‘Pipe a song about a Lamb’…”
The “Song of Innocence,” ~ William Blake.
Moody Blues:
Husband was not able to attend the Moody Blues with me. I could not find another at such short time to go with me. I was not strong enough to attend myself. The parking, crowds, and elements of being alone did not appeal to my nature at the time. Maybe in my younger years I would have taken on the challenge by myself. I do regret not going.
GBH:
We hit my old romping punker ground on Sunset. The streets and the alleys of friends, clubs and running wild in the streets. It was different now. My husband and I had a pizza and then a couple of beers at the Rainbow Bar and Grill. When we got to the Roxy, I was not on the guest list and the show was sold out.
Since it was a Goldenvoice event, I spied Gary Tovar, and he got us in the show. There I found Ross Lomas spending time together with Dora Sundoval and Alison Elliott.
Ross: “You must have been bumped off the list.”
Hudley: “Do not worry Gary got us in.”
Giving Ross a big hug around his waist I said.
“It is so good to be back and walk the streets of my youth as a wild young punk.”
Ross gave me a look and that was the last time I talked to him.
The aroma of the event was exhilarating but filled with smoke. My husband had a major asthma attack and we had to leave early. The good news is I met up with some punk chicks from a younger generation. We met up at other shows.
The continuity of them going to see GBH made me happy. I would have to say the band prefer these beauties then the old punker I have become.
There are times in life when one must pursue a dream. Run to it and become one with it. Other times one needs to step back and let it happen without you.
I read about the Moody Blues in the news after their event. I saw the pictures posted on Facebook backstage with GBH. It irritated me a little but not too much.
I made the effort, yet the random act was not complete. At least I can write about it and share my memories.
What would the Tralfamadorians say?
“There is no beginning, no middle, no end, no suspense, no moral, no causes, no effects. What we love in our books are the depths of many marvelous moments seen all at one time.”
Origin: Aston, Birmingham, England
My youngest son turned me on to this song. He really lives Ozzy Osbourne and may he rest in peace. More inspiration form Birmingham … as my son said to me recently,
That is a double good thing too. He inspired me to see life differently. As a young girl living through the 1960s and viewing the film Easy Rider to just recently with a film called The Hired Hand(1971) directed by him starring himself, Warren Oates, Verna Bloom. Both films are amazing films but the second one is a film that speaks to the modern woman today and her wounded psyche. I am speaking about my own. He told me a story that reaches generations. So beautiful and healing too. Truly fulfilling to watch. I am in love with the film.
As a youth he had an accident with a family gun and almost died. He told this story to his friends The Beatles and they wrote a song about his experience.
My heart has been heavy today… now I know why. It is always sad when a free spirit leaves us. I don’t think death was something he feared at all.
A post about the Film The Hired Hand ! A must see unusual western.
