I am wearing my shirt today to support The Descendents as a punk band.
[Restaurant]
“Welcome to Der Weinerschnitzel
May I take your order please?”
[Milo]
Yeah, I want:
Two large cokes, two large fries
Chili-cheese dog, large Dr. Pepper
Super deluxe with cheese and tomato
[Restaurant]
You want Bill sperm with that?
A cross section or motif of the underbelly of an overall group or groups of people who seem to behold Donald Trump as a great leader.
To see them wake up and testify against him was amazing to witness. One guy a family-oriented person a responsible citizen and one a creative artist. Both pulled into this absurdity is very disturbing to my sensibilities.
Capital Rioter Stephen Ayers and Jason Van Tatenhove
They describe stepping back and then observing what it really is they were supporting and promoting. Their followers denying the holocaust or another noting that all the lawful cases of Donald’s were thrown out of our courts. The BIG LIE is here to be torn down … we now see the man behind the curtain.
“Who was the man behind the curtain in the Wizard of Oz?
One of the iconic characters in the film is the Wizard himself, the Man Behind the Curtain. “Dorothy was in need of a champion, someone who had the power to help her get to her home. Toto pulls back the curtain revealing the Wizard to be a fraud, all smoke and mirrors and no real power.”
The Descendents T-Shirt on Jason Van Tatenhove.
Milo Aukerman was on a cover of Flipside Fanzine #37. We thought they were so crazy good when they first hit the punk scene. Der Weinerschnitzel defined a “amber moment” in punk rock history. I never forget the first time I played it hot off the press.
We all did grow old and now we must address this issue now. I am wearing my shirt today to support The Descendents as a punk band that is not associated with the ideocracy of these stupid assholes and deplorable and lost persons who supported or were at the United States Capitol attack. They are our human doppelganger staring us right in the face.
What will it be like when i get old
Will I still hop on my bike
And ride around town
Will I still want to be someone
And not just sit around
I don’t want to be like the other adults
Cause they’ve already died
Cool and condescending, fossilized
Will I be rich will i be poor
Will i still sleep on the floor
In July 2016, Aukerman announced he would be leaving his scientific career to pursue the Descendents full-time, citing burnout with biochemistry and getting laid off from DuPont.
The mockery of the Monkees contrasted with real bands
Punk Rock Colleague & Historian and Professional Consultant
~Hudley Flipside
While the sitcom was a mostly straightforward affair, the music production generated tension and controversy almost from the beginning. Music supervisor Don Kirshner was dissatisfied with the actor/musicians’ musical abilities, and he limited their involvement during the recording process, relying instead on professional songwriters and studio musicians.
At 8 to 10 years old my friends and I watched The Monkees. We were believers and were all inclusive in the voice of a generation. Crushes were flying around the place and mock band performances were as familiar as tents made out of blankets and sheets. As young girls this was spectacular.
Now I can not watch a show without wanting to regurgitate due to the sugarcoating like the cereal we used to eat back then. Or white bread sandwiched with butter and crystalized sugar.
Two songs come to mind “(I’m Not Your) Steppin’ Stone, and “I’m a Believer.”
“(I’m Not Your) Steppin’ Stone is written by Tommy Boyce and Bobby Hart and recorded by Paul Revere & the Raiders.
“I’m a Believer.” is a song written by Neil Diamond.
Yes, both songs were currently riding a generation that had a lot to say in real time. It was around 1966.
Yet, the Monkees were riding their fame on fake time. The medium created by middle-aged men. Mirages in the deserts of youthful minds. That’s entertainment as the band The Jam would say.
“An electric train and a ripped up phone booth
Paint splattered walls and the cry of a tomcat
Lights going out and a kick in the balls.
I tell ya that’s entertainment, that’s entertainment.”
The album also includes “(I’m Not Your) Steppin’ Stone,” The Monkees’ version of which became a U.S. Top 20 hit in 1967.[3]
~ Sfetcu,Nicolae (2014). American Music. Niolae Sfetcu. p. 166.
It is ironical when the Sex Pistols and Minor Threat both recorded versions of “(I’m Not Your) Steppin’ Stone.” The Sex Pistols music is what it is. They did play by the Monkees playbook and included a lot of mockery and falseness to their persona.
I know Minor Threat was a real band.
That is a good contrast. The mockery of the Monkees contrasted with real bands. That is where my experience comes in. Working with so many bands I learned about the realness and authenticity of what bands do and who they really are. Real talent, intelligence, and heart and sometimes a lot of anger. I am glad I know the difference and have that under my belt.
“The Monkees pioneered the music video format and paved the way for every boy band that followed in their wake, from New Kids on the Block to ‘N Sync to the Jonas Brothers, while Davy set the stage for future teen idols David Cassidy and Justin Bieber.
As pop stars go, you would be hard pressed to find a successful artist who didn’t take a page from the Monkees’ playbook, even generations later. Monkee money also enabled Rafelson and Schneider to finance Easy Rider and Five Easy Pieces, which made Jack Nicholson a star.
In fact, the Monkees series was the opening salvo in a revolution that brought on the New Hollywood cinema, an influence rarely acknowledged but no less impactful.”
-Sandoval, Andrew. “How Davy Jones and the Monkees Impacted Music, Hollywood – and Jack Nicholson”. The Hollywood Reporter. Archived from the original on April 30, 2012. Retrieved May 20, 2012.
Are Shawn Kerri and Mad Marc Rude the same person?
Punk Rock Historian & Colleague and Professional Consultant.
~ Hudley Flipside
I may be whacked and out of this world but existing through the punk scene some things bugged the hell out of me. This is one story that needs some clarity.
Shawn Kerri is an American cartoonist who was dynamic through the 1970s & 1980s. She is known for her art as one of the rare female contributors to Cartoons Magazine and as part of the early Southern California punk rock scene, creating iconic images used by the Germs and the Circle Jerks.
Kerri moved to Los Angeles in 1977 and was involved during the punk rock scene in the late 1970s and early 1980s. In 1978, she published a fanzine called Rude Situation, with Mad Marc Rude, who was then her boyfriend.
‘During this period, she drew numerous promotional flyers and tour posters for her friends, which included members of the Germs and the Circle Jerks. One of her best-known images, “Skank Kid””
A little punk history, a cross over. I still believe that Mad Marc Rude and Shawn Kerrie are the same person. I thought this and no one has made me think otherwise.
When Los Angeles Flipside Fanzine came out with our Comic Relief Issue # 33 both Mad Marc Rude and Shawn Kerri premiered in this issue.
I have been studying both of their signatures. Both are different yet there is a similarity, though I must admit a very subtle one. As is their art.
The “A” looks like a Mad Marc Rude “A.” It has the format of his signatures. Yet it looks like her signature in how the rest is formed except for two things.
A “C” is added to the beginning and an “E” is added at the end.
The cartoon is humorous filled with punk savvy and has the Mad Marc Rude / Shawn Kerri style. During the early punk scene most all of our communications / correspondence was done through the mail. So many artists, friends, bands and beyond I never met in person. This is the case with Mad Marc Rude and Shawn Kerri. As a punk historian I may not find a conclusion to this narrative. Someone please help me debunk this with solid evidence.
Expose the falseness or futility of this. DEBUNK THE PUNK!
Punk Rock Colleague & Historian and Professional Consultant
Hudley Flipside
My first portable record player, Love Me Tender 45, all my memories as a two- year-old, are beholding to me. Along with a memory of reaching up with my hand and taking warm buttered bread from mom. SO good!
Kurt Russell as Elvis
Kurt Russell did a swell job in this film, I guess that was the last film I chose to see of Elvis’s Biography. I remember seeing his Come Back Special in 1968. I was in love and cried. He was all dressed in black leather. I mailed in through correspondence and purchased the LP. Yet as I get older, I find it redundant how film makers make so many remakes of music characters, comic books etc.! I look for creativity and new things!
Yes, I am also happy in a world of those originals… I remember an interview I viewed with Kurt Russell. He shared how he knew Elvis as a young actor. Elvis loved Kurt’s dad Bing Russell. Elvis liked how Kurt’s dad wore his cowboy hats. Longhorns as an acting cowboy. The narrative has that taste of continuity, nepotism but also honest friendship.
My special memories as I get older seem to get extra special. I don’t want another to dapple with their interpretation of my own precious personal experiences. I guess that is it.
Like when some young people tell you about your favorite Film Noir. Like it is new, and no one else ever saw it before. Most of us have been viewing these films since conception.
So, I usually don’t listen. I am not inclined to read a book from a 5th generation kid’s imagination of how things were when I lived through it personally. That is my old personal thing. The more books the better but really not my thing.
And as for the guy who seemed kind of touchy about his review of the new Elvis film when I said,
“Oh no not another Elvis Film?”
I was not criticizing him, his review, or his job… just the boredom I feel of being jaded. How could anyone do another film like this again. It all comes down to what inspires us.
I guess Elvis does not inspire me like he once did. Especially with the real interviews from people who really knew him I have viewed over the many years of my life since Elvis’s death.
“He liked his chicken fried.”
~ Cybill Shepherd
She is referring to how Elvis liked his young women high for sex. She was one of them.
His whole persona killed my need to love him. A disillusionment and a part of growing up. Yet his songs are still moving. A song is a song no matter who the real person is or has become after the recording.
So that is where I am coming from. Yet everyone is contrary. Elvis is one of those performers or rock Gods that is so very very extremely contrary, it is rather sad to me. I just don’t desire to see it again from another creative perspective. It is redundant to me.
“A gentleman with the mad soul of an Irish convict poet’: remembering Chris Bailey, and the blazing comet that was The Saints.”
~John Willsteed
“the world beyond, where men are whole and complete, unlike here. The saint’s halo also characterizes his transcendent shining light, his psychic being.”
Rendering of the band The Saints. Hudley Flipside, 2010.
Happy I bought tickets to see the reformed Saitns this November in Southern California. Autumn 2025.
The author reflects on their deep connection to the band The Saints, particularly after the death of Chris Bailey.
Hudley expresses grief for both Bailey and the passage of time over the decades.
The band has been a part of her life journey, leading to discovering a sense of belonging among misfits and a punk community.
Hudley connects her experiences with Bailey’s life timeline, moving from youth to adulthood.
In her grief, she turns to the works of Carl Jung for solace, recalling insights from The Black Books.
I call it random reading. I read from the last paragraph, allowing my mind to wander freely within the words. The intuitive response is amazing to me, as each reading seems to unearth memories and thoughts I had long buried.
Encouraging action also flows from this process, inspiring me to take bold steps forward. So, with this so much is shared, whether it’s with friends or in solitude, and I am content to move on past my grief, cherishing the lessons learned along the way.
Into a new season of life, knowing that, life endures and blossoms in unexpected ways… this gives me hope like finding the Sun, illuminating the path ahead and igniting a renewed sense of purpose within me!
“In this moment the enormous tension was released and like rain it swept away [57/58] everything that was tensed, too highly strung. And soon sleep returned and brought with it a curiously beautiful image.” {138}
(p.162) The Black Books, Volume Two, Carl Jung
“Forms walked clad in white silk in a colored atmosphere. Each surrounded by a strangely fragrant, glowing tinted aura, some reddish, the others blueish and greenish.” {139}
{138} “This paragraph was replaced in LN by “Then I had a second vision.”
Picture.. reversed. Picture by Judi Dransfield Kuepper.
Chris Bailey “a curiously beautiful image”
The Saints (Barry Francis, Ivor Hay, Janine Hall, Bruce Callaway, Chris Bailey) at The Hero of Waterloo, Sydney. 1980. Picture by Judi Dransfield Kuepper. Image taken from an article by John Willsteed. Link Below.
“Jung recounted this dream to Aniela Jaffé and commented upon it as follow: This is some kind of in-between realm (the term definitely occurs in the original version of the dream) The idea was that if one is confronted with the shadow- as was the case through the experience of Siegfried’s dream then the idea comes:
I enter into a twilight: I am this and yet also something else. And this doubleness an abdication of the unconscious, which reached strangely far beyond me.
Like a saint’s halo- This has a strange effect on the attitude toward the human being.
If one is in the company of several persons, and one knows them and knows about their shadows, one then sees these people as they are, but are also something entirely different. They are surrounded by a strange sphere.
They live in a strange, light-colored sphere, which circumscribes their ‘other’ state. This seemed to me to be like a vision of the world beyond, where men are whole and complete, unlike here. The saint’s halo also characterizes his transcendent shining light, his psychic being.”
{139} (MP, p. 170)
The reminder of this entry was replaced in LN by “I know, I have stridden across the depths. Through guilt I have become newborn.” (p.162) Carl Jung’s Black Books. Volume two page 175-6.
“What do I call you HUD, Hudley Flipside or Holly?”
I told him, “… just call me what you want…. ‘Hey you’ will do.”
From Hudley Flipside to Literary Legend: 45 Years of Making Words Dance!
Being a behind the scenes punk was fun. It was a lot of hard work and was often boring. Such as picking up the mail every day, typing endless words written by punkers whose writing was hard to read. When no one else would do the work, I did it.
For all the good punks celebrations going on around here. I want to join in and say a little something about the Hudley Flipside name. My last name was Hudson. Someone called me HUD… maybe X-8… and it caught on. Or maybe it was someone from a band before Flipside Fanzine… who knows?
The point being it became my name as a publisher and co-owner of an underground punk Fanzine. I am kind of put upon to say that I did not think the “punk rock community” would be so uplifting and supportive of itself. There were times in the 90s when I ran away from it and hated it. Not the case now.
I’ve learned to appreciate it and try to flow with the best of it. I am part of the punk community whether I like it or not. Anyway, as I am an old dame now, I want to join in with one of the best pictures taken of me as a youngster by Al Flipside. He took a lot of them too. We had thousands of pictures and negatives all around the place. Pictures of cats, bands and beyond.
Today I was watching as the wind blew a whirlwind on top of a pool of water. It moved around as a tornado or Golden Ratio. A soft movement as it was. I authored this poem at the end of a Los Angeles Flipside Fanzine CATALOG that I put together. I was most likely 20 or 21, maybe younger or older. A 1980s me. I wonder where I was back then? So goes my journey of Intellectual Property and gathering Flipside merchandise together. It was nice to see it all again. So, here is a place if anyone wants to know some original source of Los Angeles Flipside Fanzine. I will continue to look for more of it from the 1980s.
“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!
The big black bumble bee is collecting nectar outside my window. The overcast day is good.
I have a bitchin scarf that is black with golden stars. It hangs with my turquoise necklace that calls out to my cowboy boots. It is a turn on.
While studying, researching, and thinking it out, approaching a documentary film is very exciting. I have experienced that most times I walked alone or only with a few in some of my most valuable and emotional endeavors.
So, it is still moving on…
In a world of turmoil and strongest of strange… I find comfort in my ride. Like a ride on my white mustang over the trails of the Santa Monica mountains. It smells of sage, fennel, and life. It holds a narrative, story… and it will be told.
My mind is wandering on the trail of possibilities… it is so wild and good. Technologies are forming from the realm of new and accessible possibilities… it is so cool. Time for a Diet Doctor Pepper.
Here is a song that really sets the stage of my journey into documentary film making…
The rhythm and blues, rock and punk rock and the continuity of a beat blows through generations. The beat, guitars and some vocals all take on a life of their own.
I first remember hearing the Rolling Stones by way of my siblings’ records or from the radio.
Something new and fresh after years becomes,
“I wonder how many times I have heard this song !?”
Yet a good song will bloom and expand out into a new generation.
Blues, rock, and punk rock…
As the musicians play the songs, beat it out, as the music goes up and down our spines it has a life of its own… it enters our DNA.
As a young girl walking home. A car drives by and that song is playing loudly. Ya that song and the beat held me for a short time as the car raced by.
Listening to it on a record or at a live show, that same song grabs you and shakes all those memories from your guts.
We mortals get old and die but the beat, the songs live on until a giant earth explosion … all gone…until,
The black-angel says to the white-devil…
“Dig that song, that beat!”
As Dante Alighieri himself is just “Walking the Dog.”
rufus thomas
Baby’s back, dressed in black, Silver buttons all down her back High, low, tipsy toe, She broke a needle and she can’t sew
Walkin’ the dog, Just walkin’ the dog If you don’t know how to do it, I’ll show you how to walk the dog
Asked a fellow for fifteen cents, See the fellow he jumped the fence Jumped so high he touched the sky, Never got back till the fourth of July
Walkin’ the dog, Just walkin’ the dog If you don’t know how to do it, I’ll show you how to walk the dog
Come on now, come on, come on
Mary, Mary, quite contrary Tell me, how does your garden grow? You got silver bells and you got cockleshells Pretty maids all in a row
Walking the dog Just a walkin’ the dog If you don’t know how to do it Show you how to walk the dog
Come on now, come on, come on Oh oh, just a, just a, just a walkin’ Just a, just a, just a walkin’ Just a, just a, just a walkin’
Oh yeah, if you don’t know how to do it I’ll show you how to walk the dog, oh
Just a, just a, just a, just a, just a, just a walkin’ Just a, just a, just a, just a, just a, just a walkin’, oh
‘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.
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 could not attend the Moody Blues with me, and I couldn’t find someone else on such short notice. I felt too weak to go alone; the parking, crowds, and being by myself didn’t appeal to me at the time. I 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 likes Ozzy Osbourne and may he rest in peace. More inspiration from Birmingham … as my son said to me recently,
This is the last entered record from the original CATALOG. I did edit it some and pulled forth the time and place in our punk history. Everything seems old now but at the time of this CATALOG it was on the cutting edge. It was exciting to be corresponding with so many bands. To offer them a way to get their music out into the rotten world and make it better. That is how I saw it then.
Then our newest album from Germany “U-Boats Attack America,” featuring Blunt + Isen, Razia, Neurotic Arseholes, Torpedo Moskau, Daily Terror, Upright Citizens, Cretins. Support the international German punk scene!!!
Future albums to come your way are: Detox II, GASH/ Depression from Australia and Vinyl Fanzine number three. Not available until August.
“They both laughed and drank to each other; they had never tasted sweeter liquor in all their lives. And in that moment they fell so deeply in love that their hearts would never be divided. So the destiny of Tristan and Isolde was ordained.”
― Sir Thomas Malory
HUD Photo by Al Flipside 1979
I recorded this today. I captured a moment of reflection that needed to come forth. It is in relationship with My Punkalullaby paperback book out on Amazon. As a self-publisher it is rewarding to come out with my own renderings of my memories. My stories are not perfect stories, just real-life moments of life.
I think a good story is like that, it holds mysteries, truth, and often a few peppering errors. Which is OK by me.
I was filled with my feelings this morning about what the early punk scene meant to me. I like trying out things on my cell phone like my Voice Memos Application. I like what I captured.
I was reading and studying King Author and the Knights of the Round Table a lot in the 1980’s while in my twenties. I amplified this and superimposed it upon my life as a young punk rocker involved in a scene.
Yes, the bands and what we did was a kind of Knights of the Round Table experience to me. I do reflect upon these memories or “amber moments” because they still speak to me.
The Knights were the many band members, and their music holds an epiphany of truth and rebellion, eternally youthful in my soul.
Punk Rock Colleague & Historian and Professional Consultant
Hudley Flipside
PUNK ROCK Herstory
XEROX TWINS?
The text describes the author’s reflections on the impact of punk women and their influence during the days of falling into the Los Angeles punk rock realm.
The sweltering summer months are depicted as a time for introspection and thoughts about them now.
“Sallie Sallie was a punk monster. She had loud make-up. She was crazy and unpredictable. Waiting at a stop light in my car across from the Whisky a Go Go, Sallie Sallie jumped on the front of my red VW Squareback. She wiggled, going spastic. I secretly loved her and wanted to be her close friend. She soon disappeared from the punk scene. As I said it seems many faded out as new punks came into the punk scene.”
~ MY PUNKALULLABY HUDLEY FLIPSIDE Pg. 29
Donna Rhia (Becky Barton)drove me around to shows. Jill Masters let me crash at her apartment next to the Whisky A Go Go. Hanging at the Masque as the Go Go’s practiced. Going to forbidden parties, such as when Hellin Killer got back from the UK, or hearing Lorna Doom’scomforting droll when Darby wined. Phrancas she showed me her collection of miniature things around her apartment.
The girls of the Middle Class. Dancing to Question Mark and the Mysterians at Hollywood Towers while sucking on lemons with Gabi Berlin. Observing as some punk chick dyed her hair black at the Canterbury apartments. Lois with long red hair like the song Red Rubber Ball who lived in Whittier California. Kat Talley-Jones egging me on and trying to tell me how to spell. I was a naïve fledgling punk journalist.
Los Angeles Flipside Fanzine had Punk Women grace it’s covers too.
My focus is who they were. Fearful, excited, and now addicted I had no ambitions but to melt with the punks I identified with. I am highlighting them today.
I was not popular and just filled space. Yet never did I imagine I would live to reflect on these women in my cave some 40 years or more later.
Kira Roessler and her rain boots as she walked out of the Whisky A Go Go..
I was influenced, inspired, and shaken-up by these gals.
ISSUE #: 8 Alice Bag The Bags
ISSUE #: 13 The Go Go’s
ISSUE 15: Exene Cervenka X
ISSUE # 35: Bangles (ROTR VOL.3)
ISSUE 51:Jula and Ingrid Bulimia Banquet
ISSUE 27: Diah Cancer 45 Grave
ISSUE # 26 Trudie Trudie ~Your Such A Cutey “Greatest Hits VOL.1”
ISSUE 49: Screaming’ Sirens
Songs we listened to on drives to a free San Fransisco… 1979
That’s one thing Earthlings might learn to do, if they tried hard enough: Ignore the awful times and concentrate on the good ones.
~ Slaughterhouse-Five, Kurt Vonnegut
Very early Hud doodling…
As an older earthling, at least I believe I am one, in these rather ‘awful times’ I find it easy to ‘concentrate on the good ones!’ Today when the car radio played the song Come As You Are by Nirvana for the millionth time, I had a strange flash back to a similar punk anthem.
Amoeba was the song. One day I drove out to Troy High School in Orange County all by myself. Adolescents and Agent Orange played that day.
The song that I superimposed in my mind over Come As You Are is the song Amoeba. It was so clean, powerful, and moving. The songs feel the same in intensity too. Both knocked my socks off.
I include the live review below from Los Angeles Flipside Fanzine # 20. (The Circle Jerks, Halloween Issue. October 1990.)
Edward Colver Image
I have other good times too like the days I gave birth to my two sons, riding Sony, the white mustang, freely over the hills of the Santa Monica Mountains on a foggy morning, and the first time I had sex at 15 in my parents’ downstairs bathroom. All new and interesting adventures.
So again, I have posted about life being like a “Slaughterhouse-Five” experience. And though times are very crazy I hope we all can find comfort in our good memories.
Hudley Live Review. Los Angeles Flipside Fanzine # 20. (The Circle Jerks, Halloween Issue. October 1990.)
Punk Rock Colleague & Historian and Professional Consultant
Hudley Flipside
History:
The she-wolf clan worked for the extraordinarily rich at the time of the Inquisition. Working in their fields and farms as shepherds. Living in the woods and sitting in their clans around their campfires. Sometimes wearing the skin of the wolf.
Sacred to them and very ancient, old, and ritualistic. Like many Aboriginal people who lived off the land, sometimes during the colder seasons when hunting and gathering was bleak they had to be creative. A chosen one would put on their wolf skin and go to the rich man’s field and steal one or two of the sheep to feed their families. When caught they were crucified with wolf skin on. Declared,
“Lycanthropy “
The devil she-wolf …
and so, the legend was born.
Every autumn we are reminded of the return of the she-wolf who seeks justice from an unjust world …. especially on the first full moon of Autumn!
Reflection and music:
We heard a loud cry from the second story building and theater and looked up. There was Ross.
“Hudley, in a heavy English accent.
It was a few years ago in Ventura County that GBH came out to greet my family and I. Colin saying,
“We got a real treat for you; we will be playing Lycanthropy live tonight.”
As a fanzine writer I had the fantastic opportunity of meeting all the bands. I became close to Charged GBH. They would tease me by saying that they would play Lycanthropy live. So, on stage the drum, bass and guitar would lead into the song to expand into another. I was not the only one being teased either.
The intensity of physical activity at events has increased compared to the 1980s. In the past, mosh pits were physically demanding but fostered a sense of unity, including support for those who fell or female participants, or she-wolfs.
Punk Rock Colleague & Historian and Professional Consultant
Hudley Flipside
“When I was young some wise fool told me Live & learn but nothing comes for free So I did what I could when I was able To keep the truth away from our table”
~ Corrosion of Conformity – Wiseblood
Fuck, fuck, fuck the old hippie dude gave me the two fingers up peace sign. How did he fucking know what I was think’ in!
OK I turned right and headed down to Topanga Canyon Blvd… down the wormhole towards a holograph of memories…. Think’ in,
“I bet I am the oldest person driving down Topanga to Dumetz Rd now?”
A flash of images came to mind…. Lynn, horse, boyfriends, ditch class go to beach, walking home in the rain, hippies hitchhiking.
The cars were racing as well as I in my little number, a green Fiat.
“Yes, I have the most memories here too… from being in my mom’s womb to now… fucking so much to think upon.”
Making a left turn on Burbank I held on to these wild assumptions of honest to goodness old lady punk truth that I was the oldest and had the most memories.
When I reached Shoup Ave., I raised and went with the bump and about flew away. Landing with a loud car zoom… it was bitchin’ too. Then as I raced my little number to the right of me was an old hippie dude with a grey beard looking at me near his car.
He walked toward an old house . He was fucking reading my mind. His eyes gave me a knowing transcendental slowed down pot look… he was telling me…
“There’s blood on the street but there’s nothing to steal from me Cause I walk alone but at least I walk for free I listen to few and I’m fueled by fire Guess now I’m old but not much wiser.|”~COC”
As we grow older, we tend to remember the funniest times of our life, if the most productive. This popped into my head today and got a round belly laugh going. It was mentioned on the Flipside Memorial Facebook page and with an interview I had with Razorcake fanzine.
One of their first online podcasts. I want to share the story again. The privilege of getting older is you can recite stories again and again…
This image is from Flipside Fanzine. An SST advertisement. A lot of people ask me why I did this? Defile a Raymond Pettibon image. A mustache on nun face of an album cover …?
Slip It In …. sorry guys kind of deserve what you got! At the time waiting to publish an issue sometimes out of boredom I had moments of inspiration!! I was feeling humorous … who knows what was on my mind at the time. I never heard one complaint from Raymond at all.
Henry Lawrence Garfield was offended.
SST put out a flyer stating all the people and organizations that they were against. The last on the list being LAPD and HUD! (does anyone have that in their nostalgia flyer stash?) I could never figure it out, was it me they were hating, or the character played by Paul Newman in the film Hud?
I do remember a Santa Monica show with Charged GBH. I had pee yellow hair that ran all over my shirt from going crazy before the bands. Anyway, Henry was looking for me to kick my ass. I weighed about 125 lbs. back then and stood about 5’ 4”. Luckily, I was in GBH’s backstage room and they blocked Henry’s defense movement.
So, a little punk chick could bug a few people. I did not get it! I was just moving forward with the long-standing Flipside juice … Flipside staff people “causing considerable trouble?” I learned that from X-8.
Punk Rock Colleague & Historian and Professional Consultant
Hudley Flipside
The Naked Grace.
These times are asking us to go within. Over the generations we have taken this journey within. By choice, by accident and spiritually. Through drugs, side effects from prescribed medication or by magic.
A song can amplify this reality. A writer can share the experience. Songs filled with lyrics are poetry put to music. The images come forth and touch us. These three songs came to mind today when I was out in the garden pulling tall grass from the rich soil. It all came together. The dark earth holds things. Pulling on the grass and releasing the soil is a forward effort of movement. The dark moist earth has a relationship with our psyches.
I believe that unless we willfully take this inward journey as an individual it will be forced upon us. On a personal level or a generational level is how it goes. Anytime we suppress our shadow, blame others, or spread hate it is bound to a generation. Are we not observing this right now? Songs can help us. I need them like I need flowers in my garden or kitty cats to hug.
Here are three songs that explain this journey variable. From the 1960s Catch the Wind by Donovan is a peaceful song. From 1985 Dead Man’s Party by Oingo Boingo is an amazing song that shares some interesting historical mysteries. Lastly from 1983 The Forbidden Zone by Charged GBH, one dose and you take their hand into a strange journey of a musician’s psyche.
♦Donovan is an unusual songwriter and folk singer that touches upon the light side of our psyche. He reminds us to remember the beauty in life. It is around us and in us if we go looking for it. Our psyches do often look back at us. We can reflect on this soft beauty from time to time.
“When sundown pales the sky
I want to hide a while
Behind your smile
And everywhere I would look, your eyes I’d find.”
♦Oingo Boingo’s song is remarkably interesting and worth listening to intensely. As a young punk back in the late 1970s I had an Oingo Boingo badge on my jacket. I was approached by a couple of punk chicks who mocked me and belittled me for wearing it. A time when the first signs of punk cultism started to show its ugly face.
“I was struck by lighting, walkin’ down the street
I was hit by something last night in my sleep
It’s a dead man’s party who could ask for more
Everybody’s comin’, leave your body at the door
Leave your body and soul at the door.”
“For English occultist Aleister Crowley, who was a painter himself, the artist ranked above the magician on the totem pole of illumination, and he considered poetry and art as precious tools for transforming one’s innermost psychic visions.”
~ Chapter Spencer Kansa, Pg. 92 Wormwood Star, The Magickal Life of Marjorie Cameron.
♥A wild journey inward to the shadowy psyche is found in the book City Baby from Highgate to Hawaii… Life, and GBH by Ross Lomas.
“This went on for hours. More and more of the same. It was incredibly intense. God and Jimi and Anne Carpenter and the devil and the fucking taxi driver, fighting over my soul right up to the point I passed out in exhaustion.”
~ Pg. 120.
“Take my hand and we’ll explore,
The forbidden zone.
When you’re in your own tree,
But don’t know if anybody’s home.”
Jimi Hendrix was playing guitar while Anne was a nun of salvation, this may show us that his journey was amplified by many elements as a fight for his soul. When the shadow opens to us it is always a powerful trip. Ross is stronger for his experience. A bite like this prepares us for outward tragedies as we are facing today.
This video was presented at a UCLA Punk Event 2018; Curating Resistance Punk Conference. Now 2020 is a time where some very important punk bands are celebrating 40 years of punk rock, marking a significant milestone in music history that highlights the genre’s evolution and enduring influence.
Los Angeles Flipside Fanzine is there, capturing and documenting the vibrant spirit of punk culture, while also serving as a platform for emerging artists and underground voices. I also want to celebrate the many advertisers that contribute meaningfully to this celebration, as they play a crucial role in sustaining the punk scene.
This is a sample from when the Ten-Year Anniversary Issue # 54 came out, showcasing not just the music but also the passionate community surrounding it. Record labels, promoters, and the list goes on, all working together to keep the punk movement alive and thriving.
Through their collective efforts, we witness the resilience and creativity that punk embodies, reminding us that the essence of rebellion and self-expression continues to resonate powerfully, even today.
We were a phenomenon of punk adventure as we grew and supported a scene together. The bands and the behind the scene punks are the symbolic friendship, an explosion, of those who made it happen.
Photographers and bootleggers, with the growing punk fans, who also are the ones who helped to shape the direction that the punk scene took.
I will always remember your support. The financial backing of advertisements in each issue of Flipside Fanzine was instrumental in enabling us to publish each edition. Thank you sincerely for your contribution.
