Punk Rock Historian, Colleague and Professional Consultant
Hudley Flipside
“Records…..Records….and Records !!!!!” ~ Mike Vallejo
If you lived as a teen in the late ’70s or during the ’80s you were most likely riding the original wave or skating the rebellious cement of the original punk rock scene in some way, shape or form. Mike sent me a CD in the mail, like the good old days, of an early interview with Slash Magazine and Flipside Fanzine on Rodney on the ROQ. I am airing it again today. Mike said it was OK to post this on my blog.
Imagine from Flipside fanzine taken by Larry Lash
Mike sells more than just records and seems to have a lot of music and things that document the early punk scene. I also purchased a CD from him of The Jam playing the Whisky A Go Go. A thrill for me to find. I am delighted to receive this CD. My mentors speak! I was most likely listening to this on my parents’ old WW II German Telefunken radio. WOW!
Enjoy and thanks Mike Vallejo! A friend indeed.
The last audio 7 ends abruptly. I wrote a letter to Kickboy-face after hearing this live back when it was on the air. He wrote back a week later. Also I danced with him at the Whisky A Go Go live to Madness. It is strange but this captures pre Elks Lodge Riot... we all know how that turned out!!
X-8- A Flipside Crew Trip to San Francisco ’79. photo by Peter Landswick (AL, Hud, Pete and X-8)
Rodney on the ROQ Los Angeles Flipside Fanzine and Slash Magazine.
I know that the nasty Slash characters played a song trick or two on Rodney… did you catch it… an utmost synchronicity for me…
A Matter between Life and Deathis an excellent film from 1946. One I recommend for the holidays. This film has some strange and lovelorn characters, my favorite being Conductor 71. He is an angel or appointed heavenly being / worker who makes an error, or does he? His character is whimsical and deliciously androgynous.
“One is starved for Technicolor up there…what a night for love.”
I think Johnny Depp stole from this character in his impersonation of Willy Wonka.
The soundtrack is provocative. This film crosses the line, holding a relationship between life and death; space and time. Moments of surrealism and logical deduction pull this film onward. There are elements that address the blending of culture and intelligence; via history, politics and the game of chess. One book is exchanged between the dead and the living.
My Best Games of Chess 1908 – 1937, Alexander Alekhine
We just happened to have this on our bookshelf !
A Matter between Life and Death answers the question, “…what sort of people are American Citizens.?”
“A bunch of men getting their wings for dying in WWII.”
Marius Goring as Conductor 71
Pretty remarkable! The beautiful pink rose that blooms throughout this story is love. How the simple tear of a loving woman moves heaven when placed on his rose. The master of L’AMOUR an irresistible French cupid named Conductor 71.
I am sick of superheroes… which is why I have moved back towards watching film Noir!! The men, like Richard Gere’s characters, are paradoxical, graceful if not down right ugly/ beautiful. They walk between light and shadow and are motivated by hate/love! Real men not fake ones.
A depth in character that slaps the face of my unconscious. I like it that way.
My three favorite Richard Gere films are American Gigolo, Mothman Prophecies and Unfaithful.
It is not just his good looks or notorious backlash of gossip that follows the real man.
As a alumnae of Los Angeles Valley College, Gere projects what it is to be a man in our modern age; so ruthlessly and graciously. As the young buck ready to fuck, to the reporter caught up in a mystery of life, or to the man betrayed by his wife; he is a portrayal of the modern man.
Alonzo D. Emmweich: “Oh, there’s nothing so different about them. After all, crime is only… a left-handed form of human endeavor.” ~Asphalt Jungle
This consciousness simply happens–as moments of synchronicity happen, as symbol happen…We know from both Plato and Jung thit its health is its psychological integrity and that eros is the integration factor which binds, holds together, and conjoins opposites”
Pg. 87 The Myth of Analysis by James Hillman.
Sober and alert we went to the art event. The bases of two friends that have lingered if only indirectly over time, have come together. Alice Bag and Matt Coagula and a community of their fans and friends
I found out that it was an obligation not an inspiration. My heart and mind had a reflective discussion while driving on the 101 north towards home. I realize the pain and discontent I felt were mine alone.
“Mom how you doing back there?”
The crew consisted of oldest and youngest son in the front seats. One was driving. I was in the back of the car. Sons and I had bellies full of Chinese food from Foo Chow Restaurant, because they did not have the snail like nature to stand around and feel and observe like their mother. This I get from Dad.
“Are you finished time to go don’t you think?”
“I think I need to hang and observe the crowd and check out a few of the faces!”
“Mom, these people seem fake to me.”
“It is the art scene and socializing…it is never easy.”
I realize I cannot blame my kids because at their age I know an event like this…lets see, something would have been destroyed. Breaking wine bottles against the concrete walls the “guilty we” would have run into the night. That was a different crew at a different time. These angers of a past youthful generation have not passed on to my kids.
“Look there is Alice dressed in pink swaying to the lady singing!”
With close friends around her I did not want to go up to say hello because the picture was the perfect symbol for this event. Alice as a beautiful expression or mandala. Earlier Matt gave us a quick handshake with art talk smile.
Oldest son offered to drive me to the art event and China town’s twilight delighted their eyes into a realm of Dragon Ball Z.
I was disoriented by flashbacks of a punk rock fog.
As we mature finding a community to create with and grow with is important. Sharing who we are, as in art or music, at any particular time and place is essential to a worthy life.
This is what I feel Kelly, Alice and Matt have achieved this evening.
Cosmos and Psyche by Richard Tarnas is an amazing book about human consciousness. He takes us on a journey of the humanities and the mind, and patterns of being. Richard Tarnas is a cultural historian and professor of philosophy and depth psychology.
The title of his book defines the contents of the chapters. Our relationship with the cosmos is a fascinating subject to me.
As a Romantic, I recommend this as a must-read book, and a book to have available on your favorite bookshelf. It is a delightfully wordy, intense, and insightful book that incorporates history, culture, and spirituality. I have, so far, grasped the thesis of Richards’s book as:
We must awaken to and overcome the great hidden anthropocentric projection that has virtually defined the modern mind: the pervasive projection of soullessness onto the cosmos by the modern self’s own will to power.
(page 41 paragraph two)
Understanding Richard’s message is important. In today’s world of discord and moments of hopelessness, we can connect with our inner world, outer world, and the cosmos in a new and creative manner.
In his book we find some old friends, the foresight of Blake, Jung and Goethe resonate in his book as affirmations of a new and hopeful world.
Synchronicity is like breathing…as above so below. The current way I learn.
Varinia and Spartacus’s love song resonates through the ages, embodying a profound connection that serves as a backdrop to their epic tale.
Yet it brings forth many myths and stories of the love of a woman and her man, illustrating the timeless struggle between the heart’s desires and the harsh realities of life.
Their bond is not merely a romantic ideal; it symbolizes a fierce rebellion against oppression, where the struggle for freedom intertwines with the yearning for love.
In the face of insurmountable odds, their love becomes a powerful anthem of hope, inspiring others to dream of liberation and the unbreakable ties that bind two souls together in the pursuit of a shared destiny.
Spartacus 1960
The focus here is on the Love Theme in this film announcing and following throughout the film about the love between Spartacus and Varinia. They are both slaves of the Roman Empire and so history unfolds.
A remarkable love story and theme song that has haunted me my whole life. Here is a jazz interpretation of the Love Theme of Spartacus by Lalo Schifrin!!
Varinia and Spartacus
If you have not seen this film, you must! It is directed by Stanley Kubrick which always guarantees an interesting experience. A film is always enhanced by a good musical score or soundtrack.
Spartacus is a master at this. The original score for Spartacus was composed and conducted by Alex North. Kirk Douglas produces the film.
Originally, Howard Fast was hired to adapt his own novel as a screenplay, but he had difficulty working in the format. He was replaced by Dalton Trumbo, who had been blacklisted as one of the Hollywood Ten. Douglas insisted that Trumbo be given screen credit for his work, which helped to break the blacklist.
Sweet sixteen not my theme: Reflections on a 1920s serial killer.
Disillusionment started around this time in my life. 16!
What inspired me were the mysteries of life. The dark places of life. I kept it to myself. I was young and wordless, quiet, and impressionable. Times were dull and I was asleep in the world around me. I did not study or read much.
I innocently walked home on my own from school. I had close friends and life was easy. I had a boyfriend who watched over me. I thought he loved me. Well, he enjoyed my body. Last night I watched a documentary on Carl Panzram.
He is a serial killer. He wrote his memoir in prison and when I compare my life growing up to his, I become sick. He went to reform school and prison at an incredibly immature age. He was a cowboy-hobo. He did not live a glorious life.
His was not an easy life. Mine was. I am sure I went through the normal psychological changes of a youth becoming an adult. I was safe and made the transition through a few years, or a generation of the fifties through the eighties.
Carl Panzram was not so fortunate. He grew up in a different generation during the Great Depression. Yet his youthful rebellion as a boy pushed him into being brutalized by a system that creates killers.
I am not justifying the unspeakable acts he did as an adult; I am comparing my life to his. Maybe to my own two boys who I protect like a mama bear hawk. Some sort of paranoid mythological female mother figure. They are extremely fortunate indeed!
Serial killers, gangsters, and the cruelty they inflict on society is terrible. I am not afraid to look at them. I wish I could change how this shadowy part of our human nature manifests in our society. Sometimes at night I find it hard to breathe when I think of how many people are locked up, especially our youth.
One cannot fight the shadow with more shadow because it only makes a bigger shadow. If I could go back to being sixteen, I would inspire myself to wake up! I would study and apply myself to life. I would learn, learn, learn!
I would take back my body and go to college at a youthful age. I would study criminology, psychology and get my degrees. I have my regrets and so did Carl Panzram!!
Our penal system is wrong. I would try to change it from the inside out starting with our youth!! I know that Carl Panzram made the same analogy in his memoir.
Carl had a remarkable ability to reflect. A friendly prison guard inspired him to write his memoir. This guard was a rare bird because he treated criminals as human beings. Carl’s revealing memoir is one to ponder, a remarkable confession from a terrible and angry soul.
“I do not believe in man, God nor Devil. I hate the whole damned human race, including myself. I preyed upon the weak, the harmless and the unsuspecting. This lesson I was taught by others: Might makes right.” ― Carl Panzram
Huntington Beach Scene Report by Michele Flipside , Jim Trash, Flipside 20, Circle Jerks Halloween Issue
Big Fish Stories by The Crowd. Came on the scene around the early 90s I believe.
When The Crowd hit the California punk scene it was something special and all the punk chicks had their eyes on Jim Trash [Jim Decker]. He was not the usual Hollyweird kind of guy. He was a surfer punk, Young, tan and entertaining. The Infamous Gerber may have had her ways with him too; believe me he crossed my eyes a few times as well.
It was a time before slamming when the pit was filled with the Pogo; where dancing like no one was watching and having fun like there was a “no adulting” policy reigned supreme—seriously, if you tripped, you just bounced back up with a smile!
This is the record, vinyl, LP being pulled from the dark closet today. It is a Flipside Record that is not included in the current Crowd Discography. So for those of you stimulated by the phenomenon of the erecting punk rock nostalgia you might find this LP climatic and even orgasmic.
Big Fish Stories by The Crowd. Came on the scene around the early 90’s
Jim Decker- vocals, Jay Decker-Bass, Dennis “Bug” Walsh – Drums,
James Kaa- Guitar. Produced by The Crowd with Steve Kempster at Headway Studios
Limited Edition on Colored Vinyl… well it is limited on normal vinyl.
I have not bought an album in some time. We used to have an iTunes account. I don’t know if anyone notices the music posts that I use quite a lot from Nick Cave and The Bad Seed’s new album Push the Sky Away? It is about time again when I reward my kids and myself with the instant gratification of music. I feel that I have been using so many YouTube songs for free that it is about time to pay the piper.
I don’t feel comfortable ripping others off or taking things for free if an artist worked hard to create something beautiful.
Push The Sky Away is beautiful to me. I am enchanted by this album: The lyrics, music and singing by Nick Cave are pulling at my belly; bringing forth feelings that I have lost in the real world. He has become my musical companion of the netherworld. He inspires my dry and jaded libido as the rain, wind and the sea do. He speaks from the deep unconscious of longing and love.
Nick Cave is an expert in archetypal resurrection.
Son hot-burned some CDs for our flying machine on the way to and from school. While driving home and listening to the full album, I felt as if I was hovering over the dark asphalt streets. As a jet takes-off; I felt that feeling as if riding on a swing where I almost took off to the rain clouds above.
Nick Cave is a man from my generation and from the same rebellion. As we engage in this collective aging, I hear his wisdom!
I know where he is!
He is at the same magic place of life. Yes, it is really magic! Nick’s music makes us slow down to listen and wonder. I cry with a wonderful longing that I have not felt in a long time.
The event was a dualistic creative assembly of many works from photographers,
or …
A pub is where the heart is, in case you have lost it.
Been staying local for some time but territorial pissing can be a drag, so tonight was a dash to do something different on a whim.
An invitation, art and continuity of friendship aroused those taking a risk feeling again.
Yes, the 101 freeway was heavy with traffic at 5:30 PM; but we could use the extra time to find a place to park.
Easing the stress with a pint before the event is always a reasonably social thing to do. So around the corner was a delightful Pub with a kind hearted giant bouncer hanging outside the door.
Guinness will do thank you or maybe a Firestone.
We arrived there early but the rats from the press smelled the cheese first. When we came back to the event a bouncer was courteous and remembered us.
The photographs were large, clean, and in your face. The general motif was a compare and contrast between boxers and musicians. The event was a dualistic creative assembly of many works from photographers.
The building was rather small but was filled to the rim with a mixture of all ages; video cameras and technology galore with the usual turned up nose.
The heart the host lacked must have been misplaced, even though he gets credit for being accessible.
I watched as youngsters bathed in his lecturing discourse like he was a professor of something. I gave him a handshake and hug.
He didn’t seem to understand that the images on the wall were all from 25 something or more years ago, just like both of us.
The heart the host lacked must have been misplaced because the bouncer at the pub around the corner had a heart. He glowed with integrity, muse, and love.
Yes, lost by the host of this event. Too bad because overall we had a great time.
I am getting a taste in my mouth for another event like this one…soon.
Carlos Palomino In Training by Theo Ehret. and Mike Ness by Edward Colver
George Foreman Training for The Rumble In The Jungle by Theo Ehret and Iggy Pop by Ebet Roberts.
Host without a Heart Henry Rollins
Hedgemon Lewis and Armando Through The Ropes by Theo Ehrel and Elton John by Berrie Wentzell
Sid Vicious By Bob Gruen, Dallas circa 1978.
Mil Mascaras The Original Luchadore by Theo Ehret and Debbie Harry/ Pink by Bob Gruen
All images of this event are taken by Hudley Flipside edited to black and white for this layout only, The original images are full color. Except for the heartless one.
“Posh and Jack both say: Please don’t drink and drive!
Limited Edition On Colored Vinyl
Knowing that True Sounds of Liberty or T.S.O.L. are in Europe having fun NOW…makes it all seem worth while. Jack Grisham has come out with a few books as well. These guys went through many changes through the years…some good and some bad. Regardless time shows no mercy.
Here is another Limited Edition on Colored Vinylas the kids that they once were. Mr. Posh Boy gave them the push they needed and so this is a little bit of THEIR special PUNK ROCK history.
1980 Posh Boy Records Limited Edition on Colored Vinyl AMOEBA ADOLESCENTS
Lead singer for the punk rock band the Adolescents Tony Reflex
Posh Boy left this for me. I never was much of a record collector. Back them they collected around us getting higher and higher as the years went by. So in our houses made of vinyl it got kind of tight.
So many records reviews to do. So many bands wanting their promotional push. It is the same old story of kids, record labels and promoters. No matter the band the story is always an interesting one.
I really don’t know what to do with this 45 now. It sits in a dark closet awaiting some eve of destruction… who knows??
Summer time is the time to do things. So what better thing to do then review some CDs. I shall begin with The Sword Of Fatima EEKA EEKA Boom Boom. Recorded June 2009 , June 2010.
When on vacation this CD is a must.. these images are inspired by their songs… on our way through the car wash and then on our car trip through the Santa Monica Mountains…
At the car wash… one can experience free art… that vanishes as a Tibetan Buddhist sand painting…
Be inspired on the road to the sounds of The Swords of Fatima
I don’t remember the name of the bookstore. It was close to Odyssey Video near the crossroads of Camarillo St, Vineland Ave, and Lankershim Blvd. During the mid-nineties, this video store held mysteries and films to find. The bookstore is next to it too. There is a wide selection of books, film scripts and beyond at this amazing bookstore. We found this limited edition by Yeats for my graduation.
This book printed by C.F. Benoit by the Brothers Johnson at The Windsor Press: 750 copies printed on Rye hand-made paper and the type distributed. In the year MCMXXVI.
This beloved hand-held book, The Land Of Heart’s Desire, has traveled through various living spaces and now sits on the hearth above the fireplace, where it inspires dreams of Celtic twilight and Faeryland during summer readings.
This little folk-lore -story-play is not so content and the conflict is wild as the call of the fay by song and dance is true:
‘The wind blows out the gates of the day,
The wind blows over the lonely of heart,
And the lonely of heart is withered away,
Shaking their milk-white feet in a ring,
Tossing their milk-white arms in the air;
For they hear the wind laugh and murmur and sing…”
As Maire Bruin is called away, so she goes… and so would I … would you? A wonderful read this time of year!!
(Please click on the YouTube song below by The Swords of Fatima first before reading the story. Read with the music playing to achieve the full effect of the story.. This is a CD band embellished non-fiction review story...)
raveling down the snake again towards Santa Monica, this drive is so familiar, years and years and even in a mother’s womb when the journey first began.
The yellow Sticky Monkey Flower blossoms are highlighting the canyon hills and the noble Yucca is all dried up this April. To the ocean we go and to the pier.
We are going to the place where Mom and Dad lived in their youth at the Santa Monica Pier. As a teenager Dad would dive off the end of the pier for money. They married and soon after the war sold cotton candy from a stand. The stories and images flow through my mind, knowing that they are now both but ashes in separate boxes side by side.
Sunday is the worse day to go to the beach. Crowds of people were everywhere. I almost got run over by a fast red car. There was a mad man at the threshold of a bridge who troubled us. This bridge arches over the Pacific Coast Hwy. We did not give him any money so he said,
“You will lose everything and be out on the streets… fuck you.”
“What are you saying?” I said.
“Bitch, you will lose everything and will live out on the streets!”
He was a very unpleasant man so I walked away and gave him the finger, which made him an extremely crazy mad man.
“Fuck you…bitch…you will be out on the streets!”
I then gave him the peace sign and said,
“I have been out on the streets,”
“Get your kicks on Route 66”
Waking over to the pier the sounds of the cars, bikes and talking people got us feeling down. Should we eat at a restaurant? The beach it covered with crosses and coffins with American flags. We went instead to play some air hockey but didn’t have any coins. The arcade was so stuffed and full that I said time to go. They followed as I stormed away thinking,
“This is hell, this is hell.”
Gazing in at the Merry Go Round and feeling some joy we soon all calmed down for some food and a beer at the Ye Olde King’s Head, but before food and drink, we had to pass by the mad man.
US minus Dancing John
Waking up the steps to the mad man we found him singing a beautiful song for some ladies handing him money. I threw some long stem yellow sour flowers at the mad man’s feet before whispering in one of the lady’s ears,
“You are lucky you gave him some money, otherwise he would be screaming nasty words at you!”
He might have been a mad man, saint or Bodhisattva !
Another man came up from behind me and said excuse me as he then ran by with a purse. It had a broken strap. He looked at me and jumped into his car, which was parked illegally, and drove away.
“I bet he pulled that off of some ladies arm.”
“You are probably right.”
We all agreed that it must have been so.
“You’d be surprised how much that happens at a crowed place like this on a Sunday at the Santa Monica Pier!!”
A few Years ago after my mom passed on she left me some money. She was not an independent type of woman but an old-fashioned stay at home mother who took care of my father. So I did what I always wanted to do with her but never did. I took a train, bus, walking trip with my ten-year old. We went to Portland Oregon and Garibaldi Oregon to see some of the city and view and ride some trains.
We even visited Rockaway Beach, but what was really sweet was the little pub in Portland Oregon I forgot the name of. It had a beer; it was the beer I remembered. Today while at a local restaurant I found that beer again. Black Butte Porter. Awesome to the core, rich, smooth with what I think is an underground taste of chocolate.
If you are an older women like me looking for some profound reading material; go find a place to kick off your shoes and sit by the fire or stream to read.
This is the magazine for you. It is published twice a year. I find it walking the line of paradoxical living. Liberally looking at what it is to be a mature woman: fun, fantastic and homey with a witchy bend. I love it. So, check it out.
Lately, while diving around in my car I have been listening to a CD by the evil BLACK WIDOWS…
“All instrumental, all original, all evil”…
And I love them. Their songs have a nice edge of surf meets dance and beyond. I would compare them to the band The Venturas but THE BLACK WIDOWS are better. I would make this CD as a must for anyone’s Christmas gift list…damn good dance music…remember to carry a big stick…cause ya never know when you will need it ??
This band will bite ya and you will never be the same…My fave song is Zero’s hour.
