The Tape Recorder Issue. I dedicate this journal to the one and only tape recorder we used at Los Angeles Flipside Fanzine. 1979 – 1989.
On the cover is one of my favorite pics of the early punk scene with Subhumans (Canadian Band) and Samoans. Greg Turner, Metal Mike, Wimpy, Hud, Gary and Jim. I am holding Flipside’s tape recorder. Picture by Al Flipside.
(I just stumbled on this post again… and it is a nice reflection to embrace.. May 2017)
I looked outside at the night while watching the stars and the sparkling lights on the Verdugo Mountains. It was this time that a new world opened to me. We were all listening and we were all connected.
It was about 3 feet by 4 feet. Beige color and made of a soft wood with round speakers built-in the front of the radio. The base sound was good and highlighted the sound his soft DJ voice made.
His voice was in conflict with the loud music he played. Cutting Edge music.
I was glued to the sound of the music he played. The room was dark and I was alone in my parent’s two story house.
Taken from Los Angeles Flipside Fanzine
(There was suspicion but not until years passed and a clear affiliations of facts, narratives and friends that I have to state that Tar “staph writer” is a convicted sex offender of young boys and underage punks! His story is very offensive to me and at the time when he worked on Flipside Fanzine it was only by way of the post office. A written correspondence. I distanced myself from him years ago.) – Hudley
In my imagination it never occurred to me that I would get to know this music man. A type of pre-internet friend. A phone, mail relationship that came to be during the 1980s. Kind of like a Facebook friend now. Not exceptionally close but supportive and dependable and we all randomly came together as a sturdy cable.
We were the jump-start that started the punk rock engine.
A dependable promotional voltage to what the punk scene was screaming to achieve. Great times….
Thank you, Rodney!! A lot of action and movement! A lot of love!!
I was out the other night. “We skipped the light fandango” a bit. Now and then a pint, at the local pub, is a requirement of sanity amongst the battling of our republic. A young local toxicologist asked me, demanded, that he would like some more of my Flopside Bubble Gum Comics. I said I will bring more. Yet, here is all of them. You can purchase them through my P.O. Box I do no sell them thorough my PayPal account as I do My Punkalullaby Journals.
and more punk history It was a day of closure and new beginnings. I leased one picture I took around thirty-seven years ago. It is now part of a film that is coming out soon. In the scheme of things, it is a small thing regarding this film.
It is a piece of the puzzle that screams loudly of integrity. I have been treated particularly good throughout the process. I got paid for it. (It is a pic of original line up of Black Flag after they broke up, but Keith is singing anyway at the Church) When American Hardcore came out I was overwhelmed by how the punk scene was presented. I did not like it. I saw my same picture in both the film and book. I even confronted the situation.
I said, “… that writers and journalists need to research their work and consider original source.” My words were ignored. Regretfully, I let it go. I am treated better by the film industry than my own punk community over this.
And that is a fact. Yet, I hold no grudges or bad feelings. I just walked around the problem and solved it my own way. The film “20th Century Women” will have an image folded in its creation that rings truth. From what I have viewed online, I am interested in this film because the film is set during 1979. (When my picture was taken)
Also, I am a woman of this generation. The film is based on a mother and her 15-year-old son. I have a 15-year-old son now. Interestingly, the film includes the early punk scene which is why the photograph is placed in the film. Nice synchronicity of goodness and better feelings! Everything happens for a reason. I’ve learned that integrity must be earned. It takes time and it is resilient! This image will only be viewed in the blink of an eye.
That is OK by me. I will be on the ending credits for a picture I took at a unique time & place in punk rock history, and it was originally published in Los Angeles Flipside Fanzine. Something to inspire my boys!!!! There are many stories from the big punk rock….
This is just one of them via Flipside Fanzine and me, and from a long time ago little punk chick named “HUD” ~Hudley! A brave little girl you were, you were!
I just got back from walking around the block in the rain. I love night walks, especially when they allow me to reflect on moments that have shaped my life, and tonight, I found my thoughts drifting to Mike. He was one punk singer who made an indelible impression on my experiences and memories.
I remember a particular moment back in 2008, a time when I was deeply immersed in writing My Punkalullaby memoir. I was in the midst of recalling stories about Mike when I received an unexpected call from Nick, another member of the band MIA. His voice carried the weight of news that felt unfathomable—Mike had died.
The timing was staggering. Just as I was cherishing the memories of Mike and his music, Nick’s call brought forth a wave of overwhelming sadness. In that instant, it struck me how intertwined our lives were with the rhythms of music, friendship, and the passage of life. Looking back, I realize what a powerful and bittersweet moment that was, one that I feel compelled to share now.
The magic of music, friends, and life—and the inexplicable nature of what lies beyond—makes me ponder the connections we share with those who have passed. There’s something profoundly comforting in the belief that some of these punk friends who have died are watching over us, still somehow part of our lives and experiences. Perhaps they resonate in the chords of the songs we listen to and through the shared memories that linger in our hearts. It’s a beautiful thought that brings solace amidst the grief, a reminder that though they may be gone, their spirit and influence live on within us and in the music we cherish.
I remember Mike’s eldest daughter Alex Conley, explaining at his funeral, how her dad always had to play his music loud, be it in the house or in the car. She did not seem to get it, since they had headphones.
Today youngest son is acting like a know-it-all teenager. He knows all about art and rock & roll. A stick up his ass. Like an old fart art curator or rusty rock band member.
Me, I am just Mama Kin… I don’t know a thing.
I stopped to drop him off at his college art class. Before he got out, he turned down the music, changed the channel to Jazz, and closed the door. I then changed the channel back to rock & roll, turned up the music loud while spinning tires, and raced away.
Mike Conley came to mind. I was then really sitting with his ghost as this song came on.
It is cool man. Time for a cocktail. I enjoyed a ride with Mike Conley today.
Youngest son is my friend regardless… we both like rock & roll, art, and fast cars. He is a son, and I am a mom.
Mike was a good punk friend or maybe Punk Colleague on the wild side of my exuberant youthful life.
December 1979 is around 37 years ago. A very tight and small club of mutual fans, promoters and band members were a rebellious team.
Before Henry Rollins galore, when the underground punk scene was unique, new, and growing as wildfire. I swear our agenda was as sincere and planned as peeing on the walls.
I used to take a few photographs back in the day as the shift from Hollywood to Orange County became the thing like a large earthquake. Los Angeles Flipside Fanzine was there hanging with the scene. Drunk and wild as a windblown day.
I just signed an agreement to releases an image I took a long time ago about the punk scene for a film called “20th Century Women.”
The image is my intellectual property. Some day when, hopefully, my grand-kids or great grand kids are viewing this film they may take to heart what their “grand ma ma” did for an underground punk scene. It feels good to share history with a company that respects my rights.
They pursued me with respect and integrity. It feels particularly good in the scheme of my life. There are many stories from THE BIG PUNK ROCK, this is mine.
The photograph is of Black Flag at the Church with Keith Morris singing after they had officially broken up, a unique photograph is the photograph that I have licensed today.
It is not about the money, it is about how I am still amazed that anyone would care about a hot, sleazy, little underground church basement in some place called nowheresville some 37 years ago… because we knew at that time, at that time & place, that no one cared!
I am amused that this lost sentiment has changed. I am happy to sign this agreement today.
New 2026: Just Click on the image for a print on demand Tee-Shirt.
Punk Rock Colleague & Historian and Professional Consultant
Hudley Flipside
I have never been a record collector. I did have a little cheap tape recorder. I would record the music I liked, taken from a radio program, and play it over and over again. I duct-taped that little recorder on my bike and would play it while riding around the neighborhood, feeling the wind in my hair and the rhythm of the music pulsing through me. It was a simple joy, but it sparked a passion for music that I’ve carried with me ever since.
The Sex Pistols were my favorite. Their raw sound and rebellious attitude resonated deeply with me during my formative years. Everything I recorded was from KROQ when it was still free radio, a station known for its eclectic lineup that brought the freshest hits straight to my ears. It was current and on the cutting edge of what was happening in the music scene at that time, helping to cultivate my taste and broaden my horizons. Each song I captured on tape felt like a small adventure, a way to escape the ordinary and dive into a world filled with energy and intensity.
The music opened some doors for me, shaping not only my identity but also leading me to new friendships and experiences. I remember gathering with friends, sharing our favorite tracks, discussing the latest bands, and feeling a sense of connection through our love for music. Those moments were formative, and I cherish them. Yet, I can list the records I purchased myself from 1978 to 1989 and beyond, each one holding its own special place in my memory. If I could recount the stories of those albums, they would include the late-night trips to local record stores, the anticipation of listening to a new release for the first time, and the nostalgia of revisiting the sounds of my youth. Each record, though not an extensive collection, was a testament to my journey as a music lover, embodying the evolution of my tastes and the ever-changing landscape of the music world.
The Saints, “I’m Stranded,” “Eternally Yours,” “Prehistoric Sounds”
Vibrators, “Pure Mania”
Stray Cats, “Stray Cats”
Ramones, “Rocket to Russia,” “Road to Ruin”
Charged GBH, “Leather, Bristles, Studs, And Acne,” “City Baby Attacked by Rats,” “City Baby’s Revenge,” ” Midnight Madness and Beyond,” “Punk Junkies, “ “Ha Ha,” “Perfume and Piss.”
The Adicts, “Life Goes On”
Avengers, Album
From 1979 to 1989 we at Flipside Fanzine received all our records free. Like many fanzines we performed a service to its readers and to the bands. (of course I will not list the endless supply of thrift store records that came and went for pennies…)
“Any review is a good review,” was my motto. Now I am comfortable with listening to YouTube freely. Any song I want is there for me. I can do what I have always done.
Don’t get me wrong, I spent a good 10 years addicted to the smell of fresh vinyl, but now I am amused by collectors and enjoy their company now and then. Before all this I listened to hand me down records via my siblings.
When I left Flipside I also left all the records, I did love, to the Flipside Record collective.
Records are a small slice of the pie for me and punk rock. Then, I preferred live shows, reading letters from punk fans and making friends.
Another two bits about the BIG PUNK ROCK… there are many stories from the BIG PUNK ROCK, this is just one story.
By the time the punk scene hit the ‘eighties there was a continuous explosion of riptide underground movements happening at the same time. Bands like X and the Go-Go’s went with the big labels. They left the underground punk scene and faded. A mirage in the desert of big media. We did not focus on them anymore.
This post shows up after many years. I have done what I inspired to do. I am amazed that in my frustration I came forth with a re-print of our Los Angeles Flipside Fanzine Ten Year Anniversary issue. Also, My Punkalullaby memoir, both in paperback. Also, my three Los Angeles Flipside Fanzine creation narratives documentary films.
I did what I set out to do. A new Flipside Video loop is out too and that is it… Flipside Fanzine, my story and all for ones reviewing. D.I.Y…. the Flipside way. Learn as you go.
a bard of the earth and sky, in the alley,
Hudley Flipside / 2024.
2016
A Ballad to the Good ‘ole Song by Hudley
‘to the ‘young punk dead.’
Life is a song, having a beginning, middle and end. A song has a soul each time you hear it. A song shares feelings and memories which awaken the life lived. A song holds on to experiences of good and inconvenient times! A song has a spirit which is eternally youthful, middle-aged, and old. A song ends like all living things. A song has all the qualities of life. A song amplifies us, the human being, who create the songs and those that resurrect listening to the songs … repeatedly.
Da Capo Press is under a big black sky. Yes, it is good that we all have the freedom to share our stories. In the supermarket I seem to get some deep emotions pulled up. We are all visually abused at the checkout stand. As usual I had to turn the ugly Trump man image around. Was it Time, Time/Life, Rolling Stone, People are another big media cutaneous pig where I viewed his image, and by chance the inside front page had a book review? My brain sucked it in so fast and I did not want to read it… but it came at me like a kamikaze knife. “The real punk rock …,” “X and the Go-Go’s, “the beloved untouchable Minutemen.” Then there was the one image of Henry Rollins …. His bald head.
“It is a curse…”
I put my blueberries and tortillas on the checkout stand. I know how big media gets reviews in such magazines. Is it an honest interview or is it a promotional piece, or a big advertisement? It all reeks and my heart break a bit to think about how the ‘young punk dead’ would rebel against this… as they did 30 years ago.
At Los Angeles Flipside Fanzine we had an endless supply of photos of all the punk bands. It was common underground weed photographs. Not for sale, or for a museum or for any uptown media DICKS. That was not our agenda.
Henry Rollins’s shaved head,
“Twenty something years ago; what issue was my review of Black Flag live in? A show where I called him a penis head?”
I think it was because he was one big muscle of sweat. It was meant to be a humorous blow from an underground nobody punker chick reviewing just another show. Henry took it like an evangelical’s literal agenda when reading the bible.
He was not hip to Los Angeles yet. A sense of humor he lacked big time.
Was it 12 years ago when the “Old-School” nostalgia punk thing started to happen? It has passed its peak baby. I was a silly doe when I approached Santa Monica Press and Feral House Publishing 12 years ago with my memoirs about the punk scene.
No one was interested. I even shared my ideas with punk Icon Keith Morris. No dice…that is how vinyl melts… old school wise.
I am not bitter, just sad. I find that some people are too eager to tell their story in a big way. Big promotional campaigns and all the media hype is a downer man. I wanted to write my memoir because I was concerned that the punk scene, as Los Angeles Flipside Fanzine, might be forgotten? Why am I so loyal …? I am still trying to figure it out!
What I have learned is this, I am more determined to do it myself now. DO It Myself BABY… locally and with my own media machine; a computer, scanner, and little art closet. I have my heavenly share of nasty sharpie pens, erasers, and pencils too.
I’ll hang with a community of peasants that don’t really want to break the membrane into the realm of fame and stars in Hollywood. I’ll stay a bard of the earth and sky, in the alley.
“…Hey! Hey! Hey! Hey!
I find comment ’bout my looks irrelativity,
Think I’ll go and have some fun,
‘Cos it’s all for free.
I’m not searching for a reason to enjoy myself…,”
– Yardbirds
How I looked in the dream last night !
Had one of those dreams of being back at the scene of the 1980s. A club morphed into a Golden Voice show! The tight feelings were there of knowing all the bands and the characters and players! Jim Kaa of the Crowd was talking in my ear when brother Gus showed up. We are not talking these days, but in this dream, we approached each other for a forgiving hug when I turned into myself. How I look now.
I asked myself if I had the password to get into the show? I said it does not matter because I am in and not going anywhere!
Lots of guys from bands were roaming around! I was consciously aware enough to dig being back in the middle of things. Running around and being part of what was happening…like everyone else there! My scene, my friends, something to offer and cover! Al approached me; we then were at an adjoining Chinese restaurant. We were shooting the breeze! I was wondering where the bar was ’cause a cold beer sounded good to ease my social tension!
Al Flipside had a new computerized contraption that took pictures, recorded bands, and interviewed bands; ready for documenting the whole scene. All from a large black computer book!
He was on the cutting edge and creative as usual. As we were eating our noodles a band came on! Al said he had to go see about a band. I told him go ahead I will watch over your noodles until you get back!!
I awoke from the dream with a missing feeling of belonging once to a music scene that was overwhelming wild and unpredictable. I was spoiled then! My heart will always mourn those days of youthful rebellion!
“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.”
SOng ONe
SOng Two
“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.
Cameron, West Angel, n.d., Graphite, ink and gold paint on paper, 23 3⁄4 x 36 3⁄4 inches. Courtesy of the Cameron Parsons Foundation, Santa Monica. Photo Credit: Alan Shaffer
“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.”
SoNg ThrEe
“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.
“We were mocking the mockery before these guys and the Chili Peppers (who happened to be on the back page of Flipside # 43 that we were on the cover of)! Where do you think they got the idea?”
~ Eric VonArab is with Louie Garcia.
Los Angeles Flipside Fanzine Back Cover Issue 43. August 1984
Life is a type of cosmic mockery.
The creative impulse seems unique and fresh but often is another mockery of sorts. Walking around the mall yesterday with my youngest son I see fashion has now taken that mockery place for me.
A full circle of fashion that copies my youthful generation. What we purchased at thrift stores; straight legs and big shirts and boots; or fancy dresses from my mother’s youthful generation. Sequin dresses low in the front with a jeweled brooch.
My cats and I are mightily routine orientated. My Monday morning shopping is to avoid the crowds. I am often amused by the magazines at the checkout counter.
Today my heart raced a little faster. Not due to the young men on the cover; I prefer the older and wiser, but the overall layout of the design.
Was it in the mid-1980s when I was at my prime that I orchestrated a hand full of punk musicians to pose partially naked for the cover of Los Angeles Flipside Fanzine 43? I try to put it behind me, but life is a type of cosmic mockery. Hilariously and repetitiously so…
“To answer the question where I got the idea: Out of the black. It was just a flash of insight and some youthful individual female power at the time. I told you to take off your clothes, you did, and I took some pictures.”
~ Hudley Flipside
Los Angeles Flipside Fanzine Front Cover Issue 43. August 1984
One can view the original BAUBO PROTAGONIST in the collection of art on-line via Super-Sheroes. Below is the second and the third is on the way. Thanks goes to Flopside Comics and Mr. Fuck who is my all time muse and general asshole… and to the Hags!!
It is a good thing to have the opportunity to be supported in this way. Take a view and have some fun.
Punk rock Memorial Day… this is one of my first presentations and it just happened to be at Whittier college.
I presented this at Whittier College, a place that holds special significance, as it is in celebration of the very roots where Flipside was created and published. Nestled within the little sleepy town of Whittier, California, known as the home of Richard Nixon and once a thriving Quaker farming community, the essence of this town is steeped in history. Underneath the nice façade of this quaint little community were some rebels with a musical cause, fiercely enthusiastic about the sounds that resonated from the underground.
A handful of guys and gals, driven by their love for music, came together to challenge the status quo and creatively made things happen in a unique way, pushing boundaries and inspiring others. Anyhow, this is not just a recollection but the ongoing story of my time served, a lazy yet impactful little folktale about Flipside Fanzine that captures the spirit of a unique era in music and community, where art and rebellion intertwined seamlessly, leaving a lasting legacy that still echoes today.
This is my celebration at Whittier College.
Thanks goes to Jeffrey Gunn and Students who inspired me to present this… and to my children’s children who may want to know what the old woman did when she was a kid. Ha Ha!!
Before using professional software, I relied on PowerPoint for presentations.
Nothing is more sad than the death of an illusion.
~Arthur Koestler
Humid and a belly filled with coffee on a Sunday while kids are playing their games; I find that I am OK! I look to see that the cats are OK too. Youngest is silent as oldest is screaming at his friends as he games online.
An easy Sunday in my cave, then all of a sudden like a flash of lightning from yesterdays storm, my imagined sharp arm reaches through the air pulling me, with eyes-closed, to the books on the brown shelf.
I know, I just saw the cult classic Equinox* last night.
All about a book and a Demon… Yes a book can change ones perspective about life. Here this reading of some random video promotion… moves us to something musical…
“To the Minutemen, the world was divided between two things-gigs and flyers. Everything was playing shows or getting people to the shows. The rest was not reality.”
~ A History Lesson Part One Synopsis by Dave Travis
This small paragraph can’t be the motif of Punk Rock… but it is…, riding the wave with many guys who were at that place from “one note to the next,” I am glad that this random pick helped me to let go of my grieving process. What I feel for my punk-rock-youthful days, and when life really was only “gigs and flyers!”
One song to the next is still a motivation in my life. Synchronizing past, present, and future dreams.
Joan asked me today,
“If I were at the Mount of Delphi what question would I ask of her, the Pythia?”
My mind went blank or black.
I heard Paint It Black by the Avengers years ago live in a club to the frequency of bouncing youths. A tight crowd of underground nobodies who were wild and unassuming.
The Avengers were fun, intense and no lines drawn between bands and fans.
The first time I saw this band play this song Spaz Attack was vibrating on the ground as I was drooling beer while watching him. My belly was about to pop.
It was all new. Kind of like black…unknown and exciting.
Mike Ness’s voice vibrates in that special part of my heart where youth affirms its hold on my yesterday. From punk on the street to a band of fame and glory.
Stinky barf alleys, clubs, radio to free download to my website.
Not just me but a handful, a scene, a generation. This song came to me at a time when I was reunited with the punk scene. Those times when time bends to grab you in its circular reflection of friends long gone by.
Today this song sings to my heart loudly. The contrary life I am living. I don’t believe in devils, yet I do know that psychopaths walk the earth.
I don’t believe in angels …yet I have met them.
It all comes down to the choices we make.
“Easy peasy lemon squeezy!” My red Militaria hat and I bow to this song…
To Eddie Egan (RIP) on his birthday so near to Valentines day ! All the best to you and your family!! Unless we get dementia… may we always remember our wild dayz!!
One band I have seen live more than Charged GBH and The Adolescents are The Dickies; how many times,’ who knows but close to the stars in the Milky Way. An excellent band and even if Leonard Graves Phillips blocked me from his Facebook site, I will always love his band and one song in particular, You Drive Me Ape.
I remember in the late seventies and early eighties the Pogo, jumping up and down as on a Pogo stick, was still part of the punk rock experience. You Drive Me Ape was the perfect song to Pogo too. The audience, at a Dickie’s show, all jumped up at certain times in the song…it is enthusiastic musical ecstasy. A belly full of beer guaranteed to be sweat-off at the end of a Dickies set.
And even though I have arthritis in my lower spine due to Pogoing to songs like this one: I won’t harbor any ill feelings against this band or their songs!! It is just part of the old punk rocker battle cry…. of wild punks gone by. The Dickies a San Fernando Valley Punk band adored by a San Fernando Valley gala, you big gorilla!!
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.
2015:
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.”
1976:
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”
Rodney, Posh Boy, Mike (ZED) and Steve (ZED). GOLD Records for the success of Beach Blvd. From Los Angeles Flipside Fanzine Number 20, The Circle Jerks Cover By Edward Colver
“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.”
Recently, a few of our Los Angeles Clubs have closed or are in the process of transforming. All generations or music scenes go through these changes. Owners and promoters come and go. Yet what is happening now seems as revolutionary as when the underground scene claimed these clubs as their own. I speak from the late 70s to now because it is nothing new. I just hope that the youngsters will continue finding and creating a scene that comes from their rebellion. Technologies have changed everything!
We no longer go to shows to make friends and find support like we once did. We don’t need fanzines anymore or a band’s creative flyers. These are for the old-time collectors. Gamers and hand-held devices are changing the world.
It is something we all have to work out, because it can’t be what it used to be. Festivals are a nightmare from my perspective. No one can ever bring this particular youthful music scene back… no matter how anyone tries to ‘Viagra’ it. I find joy in reflecting back on this time.
I am presenting an extremely wonderful article by Flipside Fanzine’s Roving Reporter Helen Jewel. It is a good read. Ya might have to squint your eyes or zoom in a great deal to read it; I invite you to be amazed. Enjoy the patina of the original Flipside Fanzine. It has aged a lot. Again, Thank you Helen. I appreciate you much more now than I ever did then!!
From Issue Number 37 the mid-1980s. Dead Clubs by Helen Jewel
