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
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.)
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.
This was a fun year to see bands before the festivals hit the scene or covid-19 for that matter. The Punk nostalgia was hitting hard and many of the players shook the dust and cobwebs from their instruments and started playing again. I cannot believe it was that long ago 2012. Last time I got to see Steve Soto live.
Holding his hand up and using his finger to make a circular movement Kerry said,
“Remember to go in the opposite direction of the slam pit.”
My young son did not understand his sense of punk humor & doom. I laughed.
~ Kerry singer Love Canal
Me and Bob Gnarly / Love Canal
The Canyon Club in Agoura California has been around for ages. Last night was my first time there. It is a large club that offers fine dining; at least the prices are fine prices. If you want some drinks before the show, I suggest somewhere else nearby. Carpet floors, large booths, lots of comfortable chairs and a large funky chair made the place seem like something out of Alice in Wonderland; or we were in the I Dream of a Jeanie Bottle. Large Buddhas and Ganesha the elephant of success added a disjointed décor feeling to the atmosphere: along with a current Christmas theme of snowmen and ceiling stars.
The last time I saw Tony and Steve ~ Adolescents were hanging together… we all stood there, the only difference is my adolescent son was hanging with us too.
Love Canal, The Gears, TSOL and Adolescents were primed, mutable and youthfully transformed on stage with a massive loud sound system to carry their music to the full crowd of fans. We sang along to Love Canal. The Gears warmed us up with their familiar continuity of original punk music. TSOL drove the fans wild as Jack talked his dirty talk and The Adolescents came on us like a fire truck’s alarm.
“So, mom what is this thing you call a slam pit?”
“Wait and see.”
My youngest son has been to a few punk shows. He never seemed to focus on the weird folk dancers. This time he was on a mission and as he got closer and closer to the pit, he said this,
“Ok, I am going to the bathroom, but when I get out, I am going in.”
He was talking about the pit and before he knew if three big guys told him,
“Son if you want to go in, we have your back… we will watch out for you.”
So as if catching a wave, he went in and initiated himself into the world of punk… to the live sounds of TSOL and Adolescents.
Thirty years ago, the punk scene did not have the diversity in ages as it does today; guys now seemed thrilled to share their love of the pit to a youngster. I was touched.
“Ya know when I was his age my three brothers and I would sneak out the window at night and go to punk shows. Sorry to tell you I was drinking my first beers in alleys before a show when I was twelve.”
My ears were filled with stories that night as I watched my son learn the moves of this wild folksy dance of the fans of punk rock music. I felt humbled, proud, and part of something that I loved too.
Some boys get initiated into adulthood at their Bar Mitzvah… my son’s onset to puberty seemed to be achieved by having the guts to walk into the pit.
As I held my hand to my heart, the drumbeat moves me as I was thinking,
“Now that is the right chord!”
But drumbeats do not have chords?
Overall, a great place to see bands. clean restrooms!