It seems strange now but at 21 I thought life would not go on much longer. We were wild nonconformists ready to take on the status quo. Here we are years later. Some of us are still creatively pulling strong and talking about our wilder days.
Na, Na, Na, Na, Nooooooo ! !
August 1981: In this interview it was very exciting to talk to a co rebel, music wise. When we did this interview the Flipside crew included Pooch, Al, and myself. Mr. Lydon would see only one for the interview. Al got it. The interview went on for some time. Pooch and I got tiered of waiting in the car. It was a hot summer day in Hollywood. I went in the hotel lobby and walked into the pool area where the interview was taking place They were sitting under a large pool side umbrella. Mr. Lydon saw me. He frowned. I told Al I was sick of waiting! Pooch and I were thirsty and hungry. Mr. Lydon said,
“Oh, that is just an excuse to see me!”
The interview ended. He walked away. I guess he was 50 percent correct. Jerk!
This post is in celebration of Los Angeles Flipside Fanzine’s 10-year Anniversary Issue 1977 to 1987. which I will be presenting at Curating Resistance: Punk as Archival Method February 9 – 10, 2018 University of California, Los Angeles.
“I am a product of Los Angeles Country,” says Mr. Fuck.
“Been around. I was left on the doorstep of a record store head-shop in the San Fernando Valley. I teethed on vinyl and breathed in herbs with my milk as a babe.”
“My best girl Lame Faced Doll says she loves the streets at night in the city of Los Angeles. She takes the metro, bus and walks miles into the high flying sun of mystery. She listens to the music where ever she finds it,” says the brave man Mr. Fuck.
“What inspires you is not my concern,” says Mr. Shit.
“Take me to any room and it is a holiday room…what is your concern is not mine.”
“Boredom and politics… anything but Boredom and politics..
This is dedicated to the man at the art store that threw his cigarette butt down on the asphalt and then picked it back up later and continued smoking it. Repetition always and Recycle everything…” Mr. Shit agrees with Mr. Fuck on this… they are comrades to the end.
I resurrected this old post because it is a good story about the history of a song. As I am beholding to many. KROQ, Rodney Bingenheimer and the early Flipside Fanzine Crew and all of those nobody punks on the streets who welcomed me in… us in, no questions asked.
Jumping in the truck and taking the kid to school. Turning on the radio while a song is starting to play. So, we turn it up as loud as can be. The car radio vibrating as truck bounces its way down the road…breaking the mediocrity of routine by invoking my once “young woman” once more. Looking over at son, he is clearly into the drums because he is mocking the drumbeats.
“The Ballroom Blitz” is a song written by Nicky Chinn and Mike Chapman and originally recorded by the British rock band The Sweet. Billboard ranked it as the No. 16 song for 1975.”
At the age of 18 the song Ballroom Blitz played on the Telefunken Radio. The radio vibrated on the wood shelve next to the fireplace. It was free FM KROQ.
“Poo Poo Pee DOO…KROQ”
The punk scene was like Halloween, Christmas, horror films, and freedom all at the same time. Overwhelmed, I felt as though I was in A Midsummer Night’s Dream, mimicking Puck— taking on the images that were around me without question. I was becoming one with my punkalullaby. I coined the word punkalullaby. It means that the whole time I was in the punk rock scene, from beginning to end, it was all about a song. One song to the next pulled me though the scene. Once that loud music got into my blood there was nothing like it.
HUDLEY FLIPSIDE, THE SEMINARY OF PRAYING MANTIS, MY PUNK@LULLABY
Whenever Ballroom Blitz came on the radio, I bounced like a rubber ball around any room. A song that is responsible for pulling me into the world of KROQ, Rodney Bingenheimer (Rodney on The Rocks) and the Los Angeles punk rock scene. (Ya there was a time before Henry… amen hallelujah!!)
“KROQ’s 1976 rebirth was perfectly timed with the emergence of punk rock and New Wave and KROQ quickly became the voice of the burgeoning Los Angeles scene, with disc jockey Rodney Bingenheimer joining the station and introducing many new and local bands, including The Ramones, The Runaways, The Stray Cats and The Go-Go’s, on his massively influential shows.”
If a song can encapsulate youthful dreams and rebellion this is the one for me. Like many songs that we take for granted, this tune always seems as new as the day I first heard the song Ballroom Blitz. Fresh, stimulating, and as wild as the Los Angeles streets I soon joined.
It is a very wild song. The word very and wild are my favorite words and I use the words while describing this song…ya ya ya!!
“As punk expanded its hold on the music scene of the mid to late 1970s, KROQ steadily adding more of it to their freeform format, cementing their place in the Los Angeles market. The station’s proximity to Hollywood and the Los Angeles punk rock scene gave it a unique place in the development of this newer music and much later with the alternative rock genre. In the late 70s and early 80s KROQ was quickly becoming one of the most influential radio stations in broadcast history.”
Remembering friends Joe Doherty and Bob Cantu on their birthdays.
Though their birthdays are on different days, today is Bob’s birthday.
I remembered this post I did on an interesting night.
La Cita Bar and The Redwood Bar & Grill
Both guys… I respect. One I’ve known for twenty-five years; the other I have known six. Both have roots deep in the underground music scene of Los Angeles; one a fanzine journalist, Flipside Fanzine and Baby Jeepers, and the other is singer for Jughead’s Revenge.
At night, the buildings of light merged along the Hollywood freeway. The fast-moving river of car lights of red and white screamed a colorful expression to the low foggy clouds above.
Clubs, restaurants, movies and driving home from work; happy hour peaked in the city! Cars stopping too quickly, and others were slicing in front to get by as the strong current of cars raced towards the Broadway exit.
The lost shadow of Bunker Hill and Angel’s Flight whispered a Déjà Vu of voices among the unknown new buildings standing tall near and around the Angelus Plaza.
Parking was good past 8 PM and walking on Hill St. with my old black boots gravitated with familiar strides of a dark night. This October night was quiet, off and a bit tilted. Noir, unfamiliar and vexed I felt a blend between the femme fatale and the innocent unaware woman.
While drinking beers, gazing above at the three giant buildings dancing lazily in the foggy clouds, I felt secure in the iron fence outdoor patio.
Joe recommended the classico margarita. I’m sure that this place, this bar, and this drink are known by many. It was a tasty drink and it lingered on my taste buds as we said our goodbye and walked to the next bar on 2nd Street.
Funny as I grow older how I feel time bends. What seems so long ago; what I wanted to run from then, now bends and reaches back towards me. Finding me again. Seeming closer now than it once was.
Both guys were a couple blocks from each other that night; they both hold and continue to endure a musical something that binds us to the underground music scene of Los Angeles. Beholding to the music scene.
Bob put out his own fanzine promoting the scene he loved; Joe was going to tour Australia which was his dream come true.
Bob was standing at the entrance to the bar. Our friend quickly stamped our wrists before we knew it. We did not plan to go there. We talked and moved inside the club. My appetite was soon satisfied with one of the best club-hamburgers around. Sweet ranch dressing, french fries and beer; loud live music, smoky leather jackets and a cocktail waitress all moved tilted and film noir before my sleepy eyes.
Alex: What you got back home, little sister, to play your fuzzy warbles on? I bet you got little save pitiful, portable picnic players. Come with uncle and hear all proper! Hear angel trumpets and devil trombones. You are invited.
My first printing project was with a hand mechanical printing press. I took print shop as one of my class electives: leading me on to West Valley Occupational School to take a paste-up class. This training got me a job working for a short time at a local adult book publisher on Venture Blvd. I pasted page numbers on each page. They were small paperback adult books.
But, back in high school the image I printed for my first project was the face of Alex from the film A Clockwork Orange. My project was stationary with Alex saying,
“Hello my little droogs”
With all of his glorious rebellious madness.
Now throughout the valley I am haunted by banners all over the place advertising the Los Angeles Museum of Art Stanley Kubrick exhibition, as I drive along the same streets where I grew up; there is Alex’s face grinning down at me with all of his glorious rebellious madness.
Everyone in the print shop class did not have a clue to who this character was: not even the teacher. Now some 30 years later his face mocks me. He takes me back to those beginning days of the 1970s ; to the place of that transforming rebellious power that stirred my soul.
Now I hold up a challenge. I am thinking of all the banners I now viddy around the San Fernando Valley .
I am saying this,
“Would you or could you rip-off one of these banners for me?”
I will make you a home cooked spaghetti dinner.
No lie… or maybe I will buy you a brew from my favorite pub.
The point being I would do it myself but my back is not what it was, so late one night if you find yourself under such a banner of Alex… it could be done.!?
Just climb up the pole and pull it down.
Regardless I find the whole thing pretty ironically & mockingly…weird.