Sparkplug Magazine
Issues: 1, 2, 3, and 4
Released: January/February 2011

Featured:
OFF!
Rikk Agnew
Symbol Six
Redd Kross
Million Kids
White Flag Down

For a short time in history (three issues back in 2010) a little magazine existed called Flipside 2010. It was a fun magazine, some music, some art, and some comics. Good stuff. Then one day it croaked. I was bummed. Why, you ask? Well, issues two and three had my Mike Check in it. And I’ve become quite a fan of myself.

Then within weeks of Flipside 2010 dying, Sparkplug Magazine exploded onto the scene much like a fat kid after eating a bag on stale Taco Bell.

Let’s start with what’s cool about this magazine . . . it has all the great qualities of a local magazine, points of interest, cool places to eat, and lot’s of music reviews, interviews, and a ton of quality pictures.

And I really lucked out here, since the creation of this magazine I’ve been along for the ride. Each issue has had a Mike Check column. I’ve done a handful of album reviews, and an interview or two (or was it one?!). With issue four Sparkplug is making a reading copy available. Go to their site or check them out on Facebook.

If you get the chance to get a copy of any of these, go get ‘em.

Rating: *** three out of three stars

On to the story . . .

PART EIGHT

Wayside always had three barbers, Black, Hispanic and White. Each race would, usually, stay with barbers of their own race, unless you did something to annoy your race. Then, as in my case, the Whites would go to the Hispanic barber. The three barbers bunked in the same section together and worked together and were, basically, stuck together 24/7. Even if you hated races different than your own, it was hard not to get to be friends with the other barbers.

So, the barbers were me, Bull and Wolfie. Wolfie couldn’t cut hair for shit, and he didn’t care. He was staring at his third strike and was killing time until he went to Chino.

If you talk too much to anyone from any of these other camps, someone would want to beat you down.

Somewhere around this time the whole race thing started to weigh on me. I have race stereotypes that I subscribe to. But as a whole the members of the black car were great to me. Better than the whites. One afternoon I snuck off to make a phone call to my girlfriend, and it was close to 110 degrees outside. By the time I got off the phone half my face was sun burnt and I was close to vomiting. I had some heavy heat stroke going. I rummaged through my belongings and had no aspirin. So, I went up to Harley, who acted as head of the white car when Red was working as a shoeshine. I asked if he could get me something to keep my head from exploding, without looking he says “We don’t have anything.”

I go back to my bed, and try to force my self to nap. Thinking I could sleep it off. Somebody taps me lightly on the shoulder and says, “Here man.” I open my eyes and look up, and some young black guy I had never seen before hands me three Tylenol tablets. I guess I look very shocked, so he says to me “We figured you could use these,” as he motions to a table with four older black men playing spades.

The overall treatment I received from the African-American population coupled with the hypocritical behavior the white population displayed to me made me start to pull away from the overall jailhouse rules.

There were people, black, white and Hispanic that were horribly racist. But only a small handful were upfront about it. The whites would talk endlessly about blacks, but would clam up when they would come around. I couldn’t respect that. So, one day I decided to fall back on the story my grandfather told me somewhere around 1989, 1990 or 1991 about us being Sicilian.

I went to Bull, the head of the black car, co-barber, and the guy I was teaching to read. Bull was a Piru Blood. He was about twenty-one or so, he had at least one murder under his belt, but didn’t know much about life. When V was taken out of the barrack and bull was made head of the car, he asked me, secretly, if I could advise him. I didn’t know what he needed, exactly. He said he had never made decisions on behalf of other people before, and when things popped up, if I would help him figure these things out. I agreed. At the same time I told Bull about me stepping out of the white car and being my own Italian car. He said he’d back the decision.

The white car didn’t want to let me go. I came to Wayside white, I’d leave white. Harley was pissed, he reneged on his promise of letting me have his two pieces from a broken encyclopedia set. I don’t know where the other twenty-four books went, but Harley had two. Once I stepped away, I wasn’t a friend.

One afternoon a guy named Tommy from Palmdale, with White Pride tattooed on his forearms, implied that he was going to regulate me for talking too much to Bull. Bull, whose real name was James, caught wind of it, and arranged a meeting with him. Tommy was a pretty buff guy, but like most of the white guys incarcerated, he came in all sucked up from years of crack and meth. Then after months of eating and exercising they think they are prison yard bad asses.

So, Bull sits outside of the dorm on a planter with Tommy. Tommy is trying real hard to play the tough guy. He’s going on and on about beating my ass and nobody can stop him, etc. Bull/James asks him to sit down and listen closely. He explained that I received even one dirty look, he would set this place off. Tommy looked puzzled, and asked for clarification. Bull explained it would be like a brush fire, a fire in the hole . . . from one end of Wayside to the other end every white person breathing would be beat down. Bull smiled and said “Try me.”

LAST ONE TO DIE is officially out: A discount code was added, when you order at: https://www.createspace.com/3669330 type in FGACJX53 and receive 10% off.

Dropkick Murphys and the Business
Mob Mentality
Label: Taang! Records
Released: 2000

1. Mob Mentality (Business, Dropkick Murphys)
2. In the Streets of London (Dropkick Murphys)
3. Informer (Business)
4. Going Strong (Dropkick Murphys)
5. Keep the Faith (Business)
6. Freedom (Business)
7. Boys on the Docks (Dropkick Murphys)
8. Borstal Boys (Ian McLagan, Rod Stewart, Ronnie Wood)
9. The Kids Are Alright (Pete Townshend)
10. Hang up Your Boots (Slapshot)
11. Knock Me Down (The Outlets)
12. Mob Mentality (Business, Dropkick Murphys)

Dropkick Murphys
Al Barr – vocals
Ken Casey – bass
Rick Burton – guitar
Matt Kelly – drums

The Business
Micky Fitz – Vocals
Johnny Rioux – Bass
Steve Whale – Guitar
Mick Fairbairn – Drums

Mob Mentality is an album by Dropkick Murphys and The Business. Originally, the bands had previously put out a split 7″ single with the name Mob Mentality. This single consisted of three songs, two which were each band covering one of the other band’s songs, and the third was an original song performed by both bands together.

A year later, they released a full-length album with the three previous tracks and nine more. Of the twelve tracks, each band does four covers (two of which were covers of the other band’s songs) and one reworking of a song they originally recorded. The other two tracks are two versions of “Mob Mentality,” an original song performed by both bands together, credited to McBusiness.

Tracks 9, 1 and 4 are about the strongest.

If you get the chance to get a copy of this, check them out.

Rating: ** * two out of five stars

On with the story . . .

In September of 1983, the start of my senior year in high school I was put into journalism class. I was required to take an English elective; journalism class fit the requirements, so I took it.

The teacher was a guy named Mr. Clyman. Mr. Clyman was an eccentric old guy that was on bad terms with the head-honchos at the school, and had some weird magic trick that he’d show some of the students, he’d make his leg disappear, I never saw it, but had something to do with the angle of the desk.

Anyway, Clyman hated it when seniors took his journalism class. He felt that you should take it in 10th grade and devote the rest of your high school years to his newspaper. 12th graders only have one semester to devote to the paper prior to graduating. So, Clyman would mention this 12th grade situation EVERYDAY. I usually tried to block out this cranky old dude, but one day I asked him what his beef with seniors was?! He started to rant again, but I cut him off by saying:

“Fuck the paper.”

I don’t know where this came from, but immediately the class fell very quiet. Clyman quietly repeated what I said then the bell rang, and I booked out of there. Within 15 minutes 80% of the school knew about my little outburst. Funny thing was . . . I didn’t get in trouble, and it was never mentioned again.

At the end of the semester Clyman came up to me and said that with my shocking mouth I should consider writing stories for the paper that would shake things up a bit. I thought about and decided to take the plunge.

A couple of years prior a few of the guys that were in the deaf and hard of hearing program at the school had tried out for the football team and were cut for being deaf. So I combed the DHH department and found several guys that had the same problem.

I wrote the article and Clyman loved it. But the football coach, Mr. Sink let me know that if I wasn’t a student he’d whip my ass.

The good thing about this is, after the article ran a deaf student named Sean became the first deaf guy allowed on the football team. So, sometimes a foul mouth can get things accomplished.

LAST ONE TO DIE is officially out: A discount code was added, when you order at: https://www.createspace.com/3669330 type in FGACJX53 and receive 10% off.

Cock Sparrer
Shock Troops
Label: Taang! Records
Released: 1982

Colin McFaul – vocals
Steve Burgess – bass
Steve Bruce – drums
Mickey Beaufoy – guitar
Chris Skepis – guitar

1 Where Are They Now
2 Riot Squad
3 Working
4 Take ‘Em All
5 We’re Coming Back
6 England Belongs To Me
7 Watch Your Back
8 I Got Your Number
9 Secret Army
10 Droogs Don’t Run
11 Out On An Island
12 Argy Bargy
13 Colonel Bogey
14 I Need A Witness
15 Platinum Blonde
16 What’s It Like To Be Old
17 Teenage Heart
18 Run For Cover

What can I say about this album?? It’s damn near perfect. It’s got the perfect combination of ’77 punk music mixed with 1960’s garage vocals. You can’t miss. One of the few albums I have been able to put on in the house and listen to that my son hasn’t come up to me and requested another album be put on.

Droogs Don’t Run is about the weakest cut on the album, and it’s not so bad itself. Lyrically, Out On An Island is brilliant, it could have been performed at Woodstock or been made into a made for HBO mini-series. As you can tell, I’m digging these guys.

It’s real tragedy that these guys aren’t mentioned along with the Clash and the Pistols, they created a truly great album.

If you get the chance to get a copy of this, check them out.

Rating: *** three out of three stars

On to the story . . .

Back in 2008 my wife started taking my son to an indoor playhouse in Sherman Oaks. Every time she came home she had tales of which celebrity kid my son has played with this time. She came home one day and it was David Caruso’s kid that my son played with, a few weeks later he played with Britney Spears’ kids. After a month or so I went with them to check this place out, it was great, basketball hoops, indoor jumper, you name it, and it’s there and VERY CLEAN.

Anyway, I go and as soon as I walk in, David Caruso is playing with his kid, all by himself, no assistants or bodyguards, and I’m following my son all over this place when in walks Paul Stanley with his wife and son. Even if you don’t know Kiss, with his flowing unbuttoned shirt, jet-black hair, and mountains of jewelry – you would know it was somebody of some importance. My wife went to talk to him, let him know I was a fan from my childhood days, and my first “stadium” concert was one of theirs (Creatures of The Night tour, March 27, 1983, Universal, Motley Crue opened). He shook my hand and talked briefly about the show, and I went back to chasing my boy.

These sanitized, safety-controlled playgrounds are so different from what I grew up with. I remember in second grade getting into a fight with a black kid, on the playground, who was in first grade, and he knocked me out, tough little fucker. By the time I was in third grade my mom received a phone call to come and pick me up at Bible Camp because some of the kids from Mexico and I kept fighting. I was a scrappy kid, and they didn’t like gringos.

But the way things are now, with kid’s athletic teams, there are no winners, and no losers, and parents always within arms reach — kids can’t be kids. At 12 years old I got my first batch of stitches because my brother, my cousin and I decided to play “Army” with real rocks. I took one to the head; it only occurs to me now . . . I guess I lost that war. These kinds of activities can’t exist no, with scheduled “play dates.”

My point is, with these uptight moms from South of The Boulevard, at the playground, a kid can’t take a toy out of another kid’s hand without the moms springing into action and retrieving the toy. I see this backfiring as the child gets older. Eventually, the kid is going to be alone, and the stakes will be higher than just a toy . . . then what?

LAST ONE TO DIE is officially out: A discount code was added, when you order at: https://www.createspace.com/3669330 type in FGACJX53 and receive 10% off.

U2, Steve Jones, the Pretenders
The Joshua Tree Tour
The Coliseum, Los Angeles, CA
Tuesday, November 17, 1987
Admission?
Time: 8:00 PM

I friend of mine that I had known since High School had an extra ticket to see U2, I forget why, someone was either sick or out of town, it was offered to me – I went. Parking was sold out, so we ended up parking on someone’s lawn for $5.00. The funny thing was listening to my friend Steve plead to the guy “Promise the car will be here when we get back” Too funny. Steve and I went with a friend of his named Dave and Dave’s girlfriend. Dave in high school was a serious weightlifter, Steve and his twin brother used to call him Dumbo when he wasn’t around, due his ears standing straight out like a car’s side-view mirrors. Once Dave got a girlfriend he stopped working out, now he was skinny as an Ethiopian. The walk from the car to the Coliseum was full of cat-calls from the black guys in the neighborhood to Dave’s girlfriend, ‘hey baby,’ look at the white meat.’ A few times I looked over at Dave, and he seemed to be shrinking, going deeper and deeper into himself. Finally I asked him if he’s going to say anything back, he acted like he didn’t hear me. Right then his girlfriend came over and put her arm around mine, and stuck close, we got one more cat-call, and I politely said something like, come on, man show the woman some respect’ or something like that, the girl smiled, and the cat-caller smiled and said ‘all right, homey enjoy your woman.’

After we got inside the Coliseum, Steve took me aside and asked if I would give Dave his woman back, I laughed and said ‘I didn’t take her, she walked over.’ Steve said ‘Please.’ I said fine. Dave got his woman back, and I got ready to see Steve Jones, a definite childhood idol.

Steve Jones
Steve Jones – vocals, guitar
Billy Duffy – guitar
Terry Nails – bass
Mickey Curry – drums

1. Give It Up
2. That’s Enough
3. Raining in My Heart
4. With You or Without You
5. Pleasure and Pain
6. Pretty Baby
7. Drugs Suck
8. Through the Night
9. Love Letters
10. An audience sung encore of Anarchy in the UK.

Walking into the Coliseum I was overcome by two major things, first the smell of weed everywhere, it was like I was attending a Grateful Dead show. And secondly, how many cops were arresting people and cuffing them with plastic ties; it must have been at least 100 people or more being escorted out.

Coming to this show I was extremely excited. I thought seeing Steve Jones live would be the closest I ever come to seeing the Sex Pistols; I always thought their break-up was for good. The show was great, Jones seems to get better every year, and bringing up hordes of people onstage to sing Anarchy was incredible.

The Pretenders
Chrissie Hynde – vocals, guitar
Martin Chambers – drums
Billy Bremner – guitar
Tony Butler – bass

The Pretenders put on a real good show, with of all the songs you heard on the radio. After losing two of the original members to cocaine and heroin overdoses respectively, Hynde recruited Rockpile guitarist Billy Bremner and Big Country bassist Tony Butler. My Brother and I had an ongoing joke about Tony Butler; he was on some PBS special about playing bass, back when he was in Big Country, and he demonstrated playing pop, R&B, and finally he says something about playing “heavy, heavy bass” and rips through a couple of funk riffs, then very impressed with himself he says “now, that’s some heavy, heavy bass.” For years, whenever we’d hear a song we’d say “that was OK, but it didn’t have heavy, heavy bass.” Something about Butler’s accent and how impressed he was with himself. Too funny.

The Pretenders performed my favorite song of theirs, Talk of The Town; I first heard this song off of an old soundtrack I had called Times Square, real good soundtrack.

U2
Bono – vocals
Edge – guitar
Adam Clayton – bass
Larry Mullen – drums

1. Where The Streets Have No Name
2. I Will Follow
3. Trip Through Your Wires
4. I Still Haven’t Found What I’m Looking For / Exodus (snippet)
5. One Tree Hill
6. Gloria
7. Sunday Bloody Sunday
8. Exit / Riders On The Storm (snippet) / Van Morrison’s Gloria (snippet) / Silver 9. And Gold (snippet)
10. In God’s Country
11. People Get Ready
12. Bad / Ruby Tuesday (snippet) / Walk On The Wild Side (snippet) / Sympathy For The Devil (snippet)
13. October
14. New Year’s Day
15. Pride (In The Name Of Love)

encores:
16. Bullet The Blue Sky / The Battle Hymn Of The Republic (snippet)
17. Running To Stand Still
18. With Or Without You
19. 40

As far as rock concerts go, you can’t go wrong with U2. They put on a good performance whether it’s a 2-seat club or a place like the Coliseum with a 76,000 audience capacity.

If you get the chance to see Steve Jones live, go out and do it.

Rating: *** three out of three stars.

On to the story . . .

Last week I wrote about a conversation I had with a guy named Todd. Well, after I wrote that piece I got to thinking about the many interesting times I spent with him.

I have always loved living in L.A., the good, the bad and the smog; I’ll, probably, always live here. Whether it’s running out of gas in the middle of Compton or asking a Black guy for a jump-start on the day of the Rodney King verdicts, L.A. has always had an interesting adventure for me. Throughout high school I would venture further and further into L.A., for no other reason than to see what’s out there.

My father used to work in City Hall, and back when I was a kid he took me downtown to the jewelry district. We found an alley to park in, and as we’re leaving the car I hear a real loud ruckus down another alley, as we walk by I see an old black guy screaming by a dumpster and throwing trash, screaming “And don’t come around here again mother fucker!” I looked up and down the alley . . . there was no one there, I look up at my dad, and he says, “Walk in front of me and keep moving.” I was in shock, I saw a man having a very intense fight with . . . . No one, and my dad was unfazed. As the weeks and months went by the more fascinated I became with the incident. Anyone living in L.A. now is probably unmoved by the incident, with the homeless situation now, this probably happened in your backyard this morning, but in the early to mid ‘70’s this was wild stuff.

Fast forward twenty years to 1995, I was working the late shift at Kinko’s in their computer department. This guy Todd, is bored and calls me at work and says “I want to go somewhere tonight, if you’re up for it I’ll pick you up from work, can you sneak out before midnight?” I tell him I’ll get somebody to punch out for me, be here at 10:00 or 10:30 pm. Todd picks me up, and as he backs up he says, “so, where do we go?” I thought he had a plan, so I say, let’s go to Hollywood, and go to a coffee shop or one of the weird little shops on Melrose. Todd looks a little spooked, and says “it’s late and isn’t there too many weirdo’s out there?” Too funny! I tell him I’d hold his hand, and protect him, little did I know he’d hold me to that.

We get to Hollywood Blvd, and I say let’s go to the International Bookstand. It’s great newsstand off of Hollywood and Argyle. Todd circles the block once or twice, and finds a place to park. We start walking west towards Argyle, when a guy who looks like Charles Manson, if Manson smoked crack and took steroids, steps in front of me and says “listen brother, we need to talk about Jesus.” I politely, as I can muster at the hour, tell him, no thanks, maybe another time. Manson instantly grabs me by the arm, and says, “no brother, we’ll talk about Jesus now!” My instant reaction to being grabbed was to throw my arm out, which knocked his arm off of me, and knocked him back and a foot. Manson gives me this glazed look and puts two fingers in his mouth and whistles really, really loud. Instantly 8 or 9 guys who look identical to Manson surround me. All these guys are holding literature geared towards junkies finding Christ, and now they’re circling me, then Manson says “This fucker doesn’t like Jesus.” They keep closing in, and then coming from a block or two a way I hear “leave my friend alone.” My “friend” Todd was running down the block, but as he was running, became concerned with my well-being and decided to yell at my assailants.

I knew that if need be I could whip a couple of these guys, a few years earlier I fought super-middleweight around L.A. on the amateur circuit, but I was now surrounded by ten ex-junkie, Jesus loving, Manson freaks. Then I hatched a plan, I started pacing, and I remembered a story this Persian girl I once dated told me. She said one time back in Iran she took a cab, and mistakenly sat up front, the cab driver took it as a come on, so he started driving her out of the city, and when she asked where he was taking her he said to “rape” her. She didn’t know what to do, so she started shaking, he asked her if she was scared, she said “no, she was excited.” This turned him off, and he stopped the cab, and threw her out.

So, as I paced, I decided to start ranting like I was into this, I started throwing random jabs like I was warming up for a fight, then I said come on, let’s do this, the crowd came in even closer, then I said let’s fight, who’s going go first? Just like that the crowd of ten starting hemming and hawing, and saying stuff like “look at the time,” I’m supposed to be back at church at 11:30.” Everybody left.

I spent about thirty minutes looking for Todd, I found him inside the newsstand reading. I looked at him, wanting to stomp him, and I growled, what happened to you back there? He casually looks up and says “I didn’t want to get in the way, you seemed to have everything under control.” Under control, there was ten of them! “Yeah, you’re a good fighter, let’s go eat.”

Todd and I never returned to Hollywood together again.

Social Distortion
Hard Times and Nursery Rhymes
Released January 18, 2011
Epitaph Records

Mike Ness – lead vocals, guitar
Jonny Wickersham – guitar
Brent Harding – bass guitar
Josh Freese – drums, percussion
David Hidalgo, Jr. – drums, percussion

1. Road Zombie
2. California (Hustle and Flow)
3. Gimme the Sweet and Lowdown
4. Diamond in the Rough
5. Machine Gun Blues
6. Bakersfield
7. Far Side of Nowhere
8. Alone and Forsaken
9. Writing on the Wall
10. Can’t Take It With You
11. Still Alive

This one of those albums that took a while for me to get into. I picked it up at the beginning of the year, and listened to it once and put it away for a few months. Everybody I’d talk to would ask me about it, and I’d tell them that it was “so so.” Then they’d tell me how much they loved it. So I gave it another spin, and I’ll be damned if I didn’t catch myself humming along. It’s not a punk album, per se, but it’s a good bluesy rock album. If you’re looking for another 1945 or Play Pen this is not the album you are seeking.

If you get the chance give this one a listen, it’s a good album, hell, go out and buy it.

Standout track: Still Alive

Rating: ** * two out of three stars.

On to the story . . .

Back in 1994 and 1995, I was somewhat directionless. I worked at a home improvement joint after the Los Angeles earthquake, and made decent money, and I managed a small six-unit apartment complex. I was living with my daughter’s mom, and just trying to keep chugging along.

I had never been with a woman who had desire to succeed, so subsequently I end up, kind of, falling into this paycheck to paycheck rut.

Anyway, as I may have mentioned before, I ended up leaving one evening at around midnight. Months of alcoholism and infidelity got to be a bit much for me. Called a friend to pick me up, and I walked with a black hefty trash bag flung over my shoulder.

Slept on the couch at my brothers for a long while until I found a graveyard shift at a, somewhat, local copy shop.

I fell into the routine most single guys do. I ended up hanging out with a bunch of other single guys, and drinking too much.

We’d hang out during the week, and Thursday, Friday and Saturday’s we’d hit the clubs and drink until it was last call.

Get home take a handful of Advil with a bottle of water, go to work, and repeat. It was like this for a number of years.

Eventually I was moved to the day shift, and my life started to get a bit more normal.

One night during the drinking years, four of us got together and went to a club in Burbank called Bobby McGee’s. It was a guy named Lance that I met at the copy place I was working at, a black guy named Jeff who I had worked with at Miller’s Outpost in the mid-eighties, and a guy named Todd that my brother went to grade school with.

The general rule of thumb on these outings was this: whoever ran into extra money would treat an extra round or so. Otherwise everybody bring his or her own cash. So, if I got a bonus I would treat everybody to a round or two of shots, and the rest of the night they would buy their own beer, etc.

Back then we were all a bunch of dumb-shits three of the four of us were working crap jobs and paying child support and blowing the rest on booze. Fucking degenerates.

Todd was the one guy who would always tell us he wanted to get out and that he had money, but as soon as we were in line for the club he would look confused and say he didn’t know where his money was.

So one Saturday night we get to Bobby McGee’s and Lance is off talking to someone and Jeff and I are BSing, and Todd gets up and says he is going to get a shot, both Jeff and I reach for our cash, Todd stops up and says it’s on him. We are both shocked, pleasantly relieved, but shocked.

Bobby McGee’s had this weird little booth in the corner of the club where a girl in a swim suit or something similar would stand and sell beer bottles out of an ice chest and these little shots in chemistry beakers. So Todd jumps up and offers to buy Jeff and I a shot in one of these beakers. Cool.

Jeff and I go back to bullshitin’ and I look up and this very puffed up football player-looking, Hispanic guy has Todd in a choke hold, with one arm pinned behind his back and he’s escorting him to the door. I jump up and start to rush the guy, and this little guy walking along side them in a cute knitted vest, says “don’t do anything or you will be tossed also.”

I’m confused. I say “what the hell are you talking about?”

He says “I just watched your friend put four shots in his back pocket as the girl turned to put her money in the till.”

I was stumped. So I said, “He didn’t steal anything.” He said “Security and I were coming to relieve her from her shift, and he did it right in front of us.”

I wasn’t sure what to do. I walked along side of Todd, and said “Todd, don’t worry about this, walk into the restaurant and tell them you just finished dinner and want to go into the club. They’ll let you in.”

The manager trips, “Are you crazy. I’m the manager here, I’ll call the cops on you guys!”

I have no idea what to say here. So I say, “We’ll figure something out.”

The little manager guy says: “There’s nothing to figure out.”

I get the other two guys together and their consensus is “Fuck him, that’s what he gets for stealing.”

I didn’t mention that this happened within fifteen minutes of walking into the place. Kind of put a damper on the evening.

Well, I’m standing there talking to the guys and this cute brunette comes up to me and says “Todd would like to talk to you.” WTH? So I follow her, and he’s in the parking lot talking to people through the lattice on the patio wall. And he managed to pick up this brunette through the lattice. Too funny.

I go up to the lattice, and Todd says, “OK, I’m ready to go. Get the guys.” Seriously? Thirty minutes into our night?

I go back tell the guys “Todd wants to go.” And in unison “Fuck him, he can wait.”

So for the rest of the night I brunette would come and get one of us, and take us to the lattice, and then Todd would explain that it was time to go. We’d agree and then “look” for the other guys. All the while Todd would stand at the wall holding hands with the brunette through the lattice.

It takes a special woman to hang out with a guy who has just been thrown out of a club for stealing, and then sit with him all night while his friends avoid him.

Around 12:30 or 1:00, about three hours after we got there, we decided to head out.

I only went out with Todd one other time, and it was five to six years later. That night was even worse, I’ll tell that story in a week or so.

Government Issue
Joy Ride
1984
Dr. Strange Records

John Stabb (Vocals)
Brian Baker (Guitar
Tom Lyle (Bass)
Marc Alberstadt (Drums)

1. Blending In
2. Understand
3. 4-Wall Hermit
4. Familiar
5. Time to Escape
6. Joyride
7. Hall of Fame
8. Notch to My Crotch
9. Reflection
10. These Boots are Made for Walkin

I love the music on this album. Good tight, hard driving music. Brian Baker kicks ass here. My only complaint is the vocals. I might be in the minority, but I’m not a major fan of John Stabb’s vocal delivery. Sorry. But the music is so good you can look past that. You don’t dump a Playboy Playmate just because she smokes, right?

If you don’t own it, give it a try, my review may be wrong.

Rating: ** * two out of three stars.

On to the story . . .

When it comes to telling stories I’m what Charlie Murphy would call a habitual line-crosser.

I don’t filter, and I don’t leave out any detail.

I don’t love disgusting or filthy humor, per se. But I love shock value. Here’s an example, the movie Something About Mary was a bit much at times, but the campfire scene in Blazing Saddles should’ve won an Oscar.

About a decade back, my Dad took my brother and I out for dinner at some little café or diner in Canoga Park/Fallbrook area. Not sure what anybody ordered, but I do remember the waitress was somewhere around my Dad’s age. Probably in her mid to late fifties.

Every time she would come to the table she would, pretty much ignore my Brother and I, and only look at my Dad. He was cordial, and would smile, but didn’t really initiate any conversation, or pick up on her.

After the second time she was at our table my Brother tells my Dad “I think she’s digging on you.” He smiles, and nods, and plays it off.

I figure I’d push it up a notch. So, I lean over, and whisper to him: “I think she wants to fuck your face.”

I got the response I wanted. He spit out his drink, and yells “What the fuck is wrong with you?”

After his shock disappeared, he laughed for a bit. One of only a few times I got a real belly laugh from him.

I’ll let you in on the other time next week.

The Encyclopedia of Punk
Written by: Brian Cogan
October 2010
Sterling

Just like every other book or documentary there is always going to be something left out, and this is no exception. It’s crammed with four hundred pages, and many, many of my favorites are left out, or barely mentioned. One of my all time favorite bands, Blitz has no mention, and one of my all-time favorite pieces of wax was the original Posh Boy Symbol Six EP, again no mention.

Another thing that irked me was the photo credits, they are stashed in the back of the book, and not on the photos themselves. I came across a really great Germs photo that I could tell just by looking at it, had to be a Jenny Lens shot, and from chatting with her I found it was. The credits in the back are kind of jumbled, so it is a bit tricky to see who did what.

Here’s the official Publishers Weekly review:
While a ‘punk encyclopedia’ seems like an oxymoron, music writer and musician Cogan nicely succeeds in producing a ‘useful resource’ illustrating ‘the urgency and importance of punk rock’ from its mid-1970s start to ‘the movement’s vitality in the present day.’ A plethora of great photos — from the Clash and the Sex Pistols to newcomers Groucho Marxists and the Shemps — accompany knowledgeable, fascinating and fast-paced entries that illuminate punk bands’ struggle to survive (the Ramones were paid only $5,000 for their starring role in Rock ‘n’ Roll High School in 1979) while avoiding being co-opted by the mainstream music biz.”

Here is the “official” Synopsis, from the publisher:
When people think of punk they often think of outrageous fashion and iconic bands like The Ramones and the Sex Pistols. But the reality of punk stretches over three decades and numerous countries, with a history as rich and varied as it is shocking and daring. With this lavishly illustrated and authoritative A-Z guide, now in a new format, Brian Cogan leads readers through the fiery history of a furious, rebellious, contradictory, and boundary-redefining musical genre and cultural movement that remains as massively influential as it is wildly misunderstood. As The Encyclopedia of Punk clearly proves, punk music and culture has produced a rich trove of material, above and beyond the hundreds of bands, from books and films to incendiary political movements.

All in all it’s well written, and well researched, just a bit biased, and not as all-inclusive as the title leads you to believe.

If you don’t have it, go check it out at your local library.

Rating: ** * two out of three stars.

On to the story . . .

Every once in a while I’ll be driving somewhere, and something will trigger a memory of my Dad.

Once every month or so my Son, and I will head over to Red Balls pizza over on Topanga Canyon Boulevard. It’s an East Coast rock and roll/punk rock pizza place.

Every once in a while a live band will play there. A few months ago, DOS played, the Mike Watt, Kira Roessler project.

Anyway, my Son and I go in there every once in a while, look at the autographs (Joe Strummer, and the Ramones), and watch the concert films on one of there big screen TV’s, and as I’m eating I look at onto Topanga Canyon.

Sometime, back in the ‘70’s my Dad told me a story about when he was in school in the early part of the ‘60’s at Taft High School in Woodland Hills. Apparently there was a rivalry between the “surfers,” and the “greasers.”

As a youngster, I always thought the whole greaser thing was just in movies based on the ‘50’s. So, I’m sucked into this story.

Another funny thing about my Dad, he wasn’t a big talker. He didn’t talk about himself, he was pretty guarded. Then when he reached his 50’s, then everything changed, he would talk his ass off.

Back to the story, we were headed to the Topanga Mall one day back in the ‘70’s, when my Dad pointed to a street light, and said that one night he, and his group of friends were coming back from a party up in the Canyon when they were tailed by a car full of surfers. Now my Dad was never one to avoid confrontation, pulled over, and beat the hell out of the surfers.

Then opened his trunk and pulled out five lengths of rope. One of his friends climbed halfway up the streetlight, threw the rope over the top. Then the tied one end to a surfer’s feet, pulled him up to the top of the post, then tied the rope off at the midsection of the light.

They repeated this for all five guys. Then drove off leaving the guys tangling upside down in the middle of the night.

I was always a brawler, but whenever my Dad decided to share something with me, it was always so . . . over the top I always felt I could never measure up to his wild antics.

I remember buying the Rodney on The ROQ volume two compilation in 1981. And in the tradition of the first volume, punk was on one side, and odd new wave stuff on the other. This comp was insane, Rise Above, 1945, Dead Heroes, and I was introduced to a new group; The Stepmothers. Their track on the comp was “Where is the Dream.” My Brother and I played the hell out this track. I read, and read again the one page article in the Flipside issue that was included with the album. But other than branding them “post-punk,” and naming the band members . . . it told me nothing. So, the next week we combed the bins at Moby Disc in Sherman Oaks, and found the All Sytems Go EP. Fast, loud and aggressive, but melodic. Do these words go together when describing punk?

If you’re not familiar with the Stepmothers, or any of the bands that Steve Jones fronted, read this, and then track down his recordings. Great singer, guitarist, and real nice guy.

1. First off, I want to thank you for agreeing to do this interview. I’m a long-time fan. I wanted to ask you about your involvement on the Rodney On The Roq, Vol. 2 album. How did that come about, and how was the overall experience?

That was all Robbie “Posh Boy” Fields doing and his sidekick who worked for him – Jay Lansford, who I was in three bands with, The Stepmothers, The Urge and The Unforgiven with – had a big hand in that as well. Robbie did a deal with Rodney for those compilation records and stuck us on the second one (those records were largely populated by Posh Boy artists). Robbie was, and still is I think, an old school hustler, who was really early onto the LA punk scene and first to put his money where his heart was and release what I believe was the very first punk rock record released from the LA scene – by the band F-Word – who we were all friendly with.

Jay later played in (F-Word front man) Rik L.Rik’s band, and I believe he even played on those classic Rik. L Rik songs on “Beach Boulevard” which also featured Jay’s band The Simpletones (they had a big KROQ hit with “California”) and Ch.3. We all knew Rodney of course, and Rodney was that (and so many) scene’s primary cheerleader and mentor. I got introduced initially to every great punk band through Rodney’s show. The first time I, and all my friends, heard the Clash, Ramones, Pistols, Elvis Costello, Generation X, etc., etc., was on his show, which was a weekly religious experience for us punks. We were few to being with. There were probably eighty of us at first, and then 800 and then 8000, and so on, and Rodney led us through the woods musically, and really led the LA punk rock movement.

2. How did The Stepmothers come to cover To Sir With Love?

I loved the film growing up, and the way it used pop music, in terms of organically integrating a pop tune like that into what was otherwise a dramatic film (as opposed, I mean, to the rock n roll movies of the 50s and 60s which were simply vehicles for the music), affected me profoundly. That scene where Lulu (great singer!) sings “To Sir With Love” to Poitier’s character really moved me, and I never forgot it. And of course, by the time we started doing it in the context of our punk rock/pre-speed metal band it was fun, ironic and a little perverse, all of which suited our sensibilities perfectly. But if “To Sir with Love” wasn’t fundamentally a great song, we wouldn’t have done it. We also did “Build Me Up Buttercup,” “Crimson and Clover” (which Joan, who we opened for a bunch, and who I was friendly with, decided to cover later, more power to her), and a bunch of other stupid and fun covers. It was that kind of scene.

3. As I told you before, when I first met Curtis Cassella (owner of TAANG Records) he mentioned how big The Stepmothers were in Boston, and he didn’t seem to believe me that your name was Steve Jones. Get that a lot?

Sure. Which is why I tried to change my name to John Henry Jones later in The Unforgiven (my grandfather’s name), because I was sick of being “the other Steve Jones.” I changed it back later because who cares, you know? Changing your name is a pain in the ass. There are a lot of Steve Jones’ in the world, and I’m not primarily in the music business anymore. The Stepmothers actually toured for a bit with Steve and Paul Cook’s post-Pistols band: The Professionals (great band! Steve sang lead). And Steve and I would do radio interviews together on that tour as Steve Jones and Steve Jones, wherein we would basically spend the bulk of our time on the air insulting each other, each other’s bands, and each other’s national proclivities. Good times. Steve is an icon, who is completely underrated as a songwriter and as a guitarist. To this day, the sound and style he captured twenty-five years ago holds up beautifully; and his is one of the all time great rock n roll guitar sounds. He’s also a great songwriter and a brilliant producer who I don’t think ever got the credit he deserved. We’re good friends and he had me on his terrific LA radio show – Jonesy’s Jukebox – a few times, which was an honor. I know we get facebooked by people thinking we’re each other. I try to play along and I bet he does the same. Interestingly enough too we don’t look all that dissimilar, perhaps it’s those Welsh roots.

4. How much of a part did you play in the musical direction of the various bands you played in (The Stepmothers, Overkill, The Urge, and The Unforgiven)?

Honestly, I’ve always been the ringleader, and I don’t think any of my former bandmates would dispute that (some of them however might prefer a more colorful term for me). The exceptions are when the bands I was in weren’t my bands, meaning those in which I served as merely a hired-gun singer. But for my bands, I wrote virtually all of the material, and in many ways molded how the band would look, play and act. That is especially true with The Unforgiven: a band I formed from the ground up to suit my specific vision.

The Stepmothers kind of grew up together and the band went through so many incarnations before we really landed on what we would be and what we’d be known for. We were kids when we started and evolved together really as the punk rock movement did. Although the Stepmothers was my vision, every guy who came through the band brought with them a little piece of the vibe and the look. Good artists borrow and great artists steal, so I guess we were great because we stole everything that worked and left the rest behind. A lot of great musicians came through that band – and the Stepmothers was undoubtedly at its very best when Dusty Watson held down the bottom, (Dusty is one of the all time great rock drummers, who can, by the way, play beautifully in any style, I’ll never forget the first time I heard him go from speed metal to a slow, perfect reggae jam in the blink of an eye, the guy has a stratospheric range). To be fair, with the Stepmothers, by the time Larry, and then later Jay joined the band they had their own look and vibe down, so I didn’t have anything to with their look and style. We were of course collectively influenced by the bands we liked, the scenes we were part, of and the movies we loved (Cruising and Mad Max especially). But The Unforgiven was all me (so I get the blame or the credit, depending on your viewpoint). I had the concept in my head long before I brought anyone else was into the band, and I cast most of the band, as if it were a movie, because the vision in my head of how The Unforgiven would look and sound was so strong — look and vibe were tantamount in forming that band, and, it’s true that, in some cases those things took precedent over playing ability. There were however some great players in the Unforgiven, Johnny was a great natural talent, and Todd was a tormented genius on an almost Hendrix-level, and they both just happened to be really handsome guys with great visual flair. And we dragged Alan, who — although being a good-looking guy (and he still is, man, there’s a portrait of him somewhere going to hell, because that motherfucker doesn’t age), — into the band for nothing but his incomparable talent. Of course a couple of years later The Unforgiven really just morphed back into a latter-day version of Stepmothers, only with Alan drumming. Jay and Larry were back in the band, so they brought their own thing back in with them, and by that time The Unforgiven was no longer locked into that spaghetti western style. It ended up me, Jay and Larry in jeans and leather jackets, just like a decade earlier, pounding Unforgiven songs.

But Overkill and The Urge were completely different stories; those were the only two bands I ever joined, as a singer. I didn’t even play guitar in those bands. I wrote the lyrics, but they weren’t my bands. Overkill was a ferocious SST band out of South Bay, and truly godfathers of speed-metal long before the term would even be coined. It was a great, great band, which I absolutely loved. When they thought they had a shot at having me sing for them they fired their (also great) lead singer, and I began moonlighting as their front man while still leading the Stepmothers. But my heart was never in Overkill the way they needed it to be, and, really, the way I needed to be. Overkill was a lark for me, a lot of fun, but I didn’t do it for that long. As much as I loved their energy, it wasn’t tuneful or melodic enough for my tastes as a writer, and the drive to rehearsal from Claremont to the South Bay was waaaay too far. It was torturous driving from the IE to San Pedro.

The Urge was Jay Lansford’s AC/DC-esque metal band, which he lived and breathed after he left the Simpletones, Rik L. Rik, and all those bands he played in circa 1980. It was totally his baby and the guys in the band were amazing. The Urge was a great, great band, and also way ahead of their time (and within five years the entire Sunset Strip scene would sound like what The Urge was doing in 1980, true dat). But I was moonlighting in that band as well, mostly because I really felt what they were doing, and I loved being on stage with Jay Lansford (Jay was the quintessential rock guitarist of our time and place; he had the best vibe, look and attitude, and he was really my Keith Richards. I never enjoyed playing with anyone more than Jay). Virtually every time I would look over to my left and see him doing his Jay thing on stage, I would smile, laugh, and feel like we were rock stars; what an amazing wing man. We were great accomplices, on stage and off, shared a lot of girlfriends, and a lot of great times (side note: it gave me profound pleasure to bring him into the latter day version of The Unforgiven, for the reasons stated above, and also because he was so honored and thrilled to be in that band, and that really made me happy. And getting to give him the gift of playing in front of 70,000 people at the Farm Aids, and therefore allowing him to live that rock n roll dream that we all grew up yearning for is, truly, one of my life’s great joys). We also did “Rub it in,” from the Stepmothers album: “You Were Never My Age,” in The Urge. But at the end of the day, I am an alpha male chasing my own artistic destiny and, so, ultimately I drifted away from the Urge too.

5. Who were, and are, your influences, musically, and personally?

The list is long. Musically and visually: Elvis, The Beatles, The Stones, The Kinks, The Who, Kiss, Queen, Zeppelin, Bowie, Alice Cooper, The Ramones, Sex Pistols, Clash, Generation X, Elvis Costello, AC/DC, Tom Petty and the Heartbreakers, Motorhead, The Misfits, Joan Jett, U2, Oasis, Springsteen, Rank and File, Van Halen. My favorite band right now is Snow Patrol, but U2 is my favorite live band of all time (not very unique, I’m afraid, but they are who they are because they are the very best at what they do). Personally I have always been influenced by the great film directors, and for me, film is the ultimate art form because it’s the only one that incorporates all art forms into one, which is why my groups were always so filmic and visual and why I ultimately went into directing films and TV. Clint Eastwood is the guy who I think brings it all together best, but I also love Coppola (“The Godfather” is perhaps the best film ever made, it’s the “Hamlet” of films that’ll be around 500 years from now), Scorcese, Friedkin, Spielberg, Tarantino, George Miller, James Cameron, and the list goes on. I’m also, at the risk of sounding precious (feel free to cut this shit out), heavily influenced by philosophy and the world’s great thinkers, and I take wisdom where I find it and incorporate it into my life and my art, whether it be the Buddha, Confucius, Mohammed, Christ, Socrates, Cervantes, Hunter S. Thompson, Sartre, Einstein, or Barak Obama (to name just a few). I’m essentially a Humanist, but I describe myself, when forced to do so, as “Einsteinian,” – an atheist who embraces life’s great mysteries – and I freely incorporate those ideas that feel to me like universal truths into my own life and, therefore, art regardless of the philosophical or religious bent of the mind who originally thunk it. Shakespeare is my all time favorite writer. I know, totally fey, but there’s a reason he’s around nearly half a century later, and will be around for as long as there is the written word:

Like the bard said: “love is not love that alters when alteration it finds.” It doesn’t get any truer than that.

6. Back in a time where most of the music being produced was extremely amateurish, you were pretty polished (vocally, as well as on the guitar) what was your training?

I don’t know if I agree with that actually. I never had any training. No lessons, never sang in the church choir (never went to church for that matter), nothing. I just loved music and sang along. My dad’s an actor so we grew up with show tunes (excellent foundation for a pop songwriter by the way), and my mom was a hippy so we had the Beatles, Stones, Simon & Garfunkel, etc. in the house all the time.

Later, after Jimmy Page and Kiss made me want to play, be in bands, and pick up the guitar, I just sat in my room and listened to records and the radio all day long, and learned how to play the songs and riffs I loved inch by painful inch. I’ve always been able to focus intensely on the things I wanted to do. But that’s very different I think from being born with innate musical talent and I don’t think I was. (For the record, there are some things I believe I was absolutely born to do, that I took to immediately and never had to work hard at: horseback riding is number one, entertaining also, I am a born entertainer and I took to both of those at an early age, without thought and without doubt, and those are the things I’m still best at in life. Also, with due lack of modesty, I think I was born to write. That always came effortlessly to me, and I feel I’m pretty good at turning a phrase.)

I was not a great singer, although I brought a lot of heart to it and worked hard at it. I had a lot of quaint notions at the time about wanting to have good pitch and wanting to do a lot of different things in different octaves with my voice, but I was not born with a great voice. I was able to accomplish as a singer whatever I ultimately did only because I loved to sing, I was passionate about it, and I worked hard at it. I think my voice was really not right for the early versions of the Unforgiven, and that’s probably why it didn’t really work at the major-label-pop-radio-success level. If I’d been smarter I think I would have had Johnny Hickman be the lead singer (he is a great rock singer), and I would have functioned more like his Mick Jones or The Edge – singing the high harmonies and the occasional lead (“Roverpack” was my kind of song, but Johnny should have sang lead on “I Hear the Call”). Ditto with the guitar, I was not a born musician, and always had to work very hard at it. I got pretty good in the end and I guess that’s a tribute to work ethic if nothing else. But I really didn’t develop any soul nor feel for playing the guitar until I was out of bands all together (drugs helped with that), and now, I can really play the blues, although it took me half a lifetime to get there. When I play now, I play for myself, and my kids, and there’s joy in it. I have a lot of appreciation for how hard I worked for all those years learning those skills because now they serve me pretty well in the service of the casual groove.

7. I hope this isn’t too far out, here’s a bit of self-analysis. Many of the bands you played with or recorded with had the some success or fan-base when you were with them. So the question is what does Steve Jones bring to a band?

If I even agree with this statement, I would say it is, again, that I am an old school, died-in-the-wool entertainer. Every time I went on stage I was there for one reason: to entertain the people who had done me the honor of coming to see me perform. It didn’t how many nor how few were there, I was gonna do whatever it took to entertain them. Again, I was born that way and I never had a moment of doubt that I could do that. We used to have a saying in my bands – when we were playing to 13 people in a cavernous club in Pennsylvania, or wherever, and were frustrated and feeling like we didn’t even want to go on – “however mad we are at the people who aren’t here, let’s never take it out on the people who are here.” That show-must-go-on ethic came from my upbringing as well. I grew up in the theater from infancy on, crawling around the stage as my father rehearsed Macbeth. That love and respect for theater (and the arts in general; being an artist was always respected as a valid and important way of life in our family) and for the importance of entertaining people was ingrained in me. I always knew I would be involved in entertaining people, whether performing on stage, writing songs for others to sing, finding and nurturing great talent, or doing what I do now: behind the camera, making TV shows that make people laugh and maybe even occasionally move people. The older I get the more sure I am that making people laugh and cry, entertaining them, is one of the greatest things a human can do. At the risk of sounding precious and self-important, I really believe being entertained prolongs people’s lives, and certainly makes life more worthwhile. One of my favorite lines (from the play “Inherit the Wind”) is: “When you lose the power to laugh, you lose the power to think straight.” True dat.

8. Of the recordings you’ve done in your career what slab of vinyl (or CD for the younger fans) are you most proud of, or best represents your skills?

I actually think it’s the demos we did for Atlantic records (that never came out) were the best things we did. The Unforgiven’s later stuff was the shit (again, by that time, it was really the Stepmothers except with Alan on drums, and so my voice was appropriate for it again). It all came together in that moment, and I guess I was at the peak of my writing, playing and singing skills. Jay, Alan, Larry and I really brought it during that time period and on those sessions (unfortunately Atlantic bailed on us before we even put that stuff out). My best performances on tape, in my opinion, were: “Brink of Destruction,” “Days Like These,” (later a number one rock hit for Asia) “Way It Is,” “Burn it Down,” and “Beat to Death Like a Dog” (which Rhino Bucket would also later have a big hit with). Sadly, few people ever heard that stuff. Later (round ’98), Jay and I did a Stepmothers record of sorts in Germany and recorded a song called “I Dream I’m Innocent” (which came out on Posh Boy eventually) which I think is one of my best lyrics and vocal performances.

“I dream I’m innocent of all these things/I dream I’m good, I dream I’m clean/I dream I’m innocent of all these things/everybody’s innocent when they sleep.”

I got better as I got older, in every way.

9. Over twenty-nine years have passed, and the bulk of your recorded work is still in print (minus the EP’s). Does your influence on this younger generation of “punks” surprise you?

Actually I have very little sense of what my influence on young musicians today may be. I was in the moment when I did that stuff then, and presently I’m in the moment with the stuff I’m doing now. But, look, it’s always a kick when people reach out to us (mostly through our website ROVERPACK.COM, which, oddly, gets a lot of hits) and share their stories of how our bands, or certain songs, impacted their lives. That’s a wonderful feeling. And every now and then the stories we hear are, surprisingly, quite moving, and that does give me a deep sense of pride and wonder at how we touched people’s lives, that we never would have known about were it not for the internet and facebook and the ways people can find and communicate with each other in this new epoch. I certainly know how The Unforgiven LOOK affected a lot of people and ultimately a lot of huge bands (I’m talking to you Jon Bon Jovi!).

And I can’t tell you how many people have named their daughters “Cheyenne” because of The Unforgiven, including my buddy Dee Snider from Twisted Sister which was really an honor for me (Twisted was a great band who influenced me a lot when I first saw them in London in the early 80s),.

10. Tell us the story behind the (I Dream I’m) Innocent! single. What prompted this release years after The Stepmothers hung it up?

Oh wow, I already went into that. I really did write it after a dream, and it took about three minutes after I woke from it. I dreamt that I was innocent of hurting the person who meant the most to me in my life and who I lost in my twenties because I was an idiot and an immature asshole. In the dream we were together, and the loving, powerful, close feeling in that dream was like a joy soaked ecstasy trip. In the dream, I was clean, and I had everything I ever wanted. It is the most honest, pure and confessional song I ever wrote, and as I said before I’m proud of it. I think you can hear all that in my vocal, it sounds ripped from my guts, and certainly in the lyrics: “Baby I got viciousness just dripping from my skin/I don’t know love/I know guilt/I know revenge.”
Another song that I’m very proud of from those Hannover recording sessions with Jay, also addressed that, and was also about her, it’s called “The Disease of Melancholy” and the vocal on that too is primal, agonized, and fierce:
“Sometimes I indulge myself in pure guilt/sometimes I impale myself/to the hilt/sometimes I see telephone poles/ when I drive around/that I wanna wrap myself around/just tell her I’m sorry/for even calling/it’s the disease of melancholy/it’s got me/it’s in me/it envelopes me/and fills me.”

The way that record-that-never-came-out happened is simply that I had those songs in me and they needed to come out. Jay had a band and a studio in Germany, I wanted to come see him and get back to Europe, and so I went and we bedded down for a couple of weeks and cut it. Probably cost us a couple of grand in travel costs but not much else, other than our time and the time of the engineer. It was fun, fast, pure, prolific, not over-thought, and turned out really good. I wish I had those tracks now. I have no idea what happened to them. “Innocent” is the only thing that remains as far as I know.

11. Did you feel The Stepmothers were accepted given the fact you guys were so good? Was there much of a stigma for polished musicians?

Nah, I never really felt that. Firstly we weren’t that great to begin with. Then, Larry came along, and he was on his way to becoming a world-class musician, and, later, Dusty Watson, who was born world class. Jay and I were decent players, but our greatest strength were as performers. The stigma we did have was that we weren’t from LA, and that’s where the scene was. I’m pretty sure we were the first Inland Empire band to break into that punk rock scene and definitely had to prove ourselves to the cool kids in Hollywood again and again, which is what the song “Inland Empire” was all about:

“Them there/us here/a line was drawn/like they’re the men/and we’re the boys”
Interestingly enough, in that song there’s this refrain: “Where you come from?” that later became a battle cry of street gangs (not that they got it from us, they didn’t I’m sure), and became the setup line for someone outside of a gang’s turf getting shot: “Where you from, Cuz?” I always felt that, and we did escape some very violent situations, potential lynchings really, in the Pomona area when we first started out, simply because of the way we looked. I do feel a sense of pride in that we stayed true to those Inland Empire roots. After I was done playing and went into A&R, I signed two Inland Empire bands – The Poorboys and Motorpsycho – right out of the gate, like in my first few months as an A&R man, and tried to bring them to the world (and thereby foster what had grown into a real scene) (I failed to do so, by the way, although I tried with all my heart). I think it’s fair to say that the Stepmothers really did trail blaze a path for those Inland Empire bands who would soon come along, nipping at our heels and dissing us in some cases – which is the natural state of things – and that gives me a sense of pride and accomplishment too. Every now and then I do get the if-it-wasn’t-for-the-Stepmothers-I-would-never-have-done-what-I-did dose of appreciation from musicians, and it’s a good feeling. There is and was so much talent from that area. I mean even our homeboy Kevin Lyman emerged to become arguably one of the greatest rock n roll promoters of all time. The thing was, I literally stumbled into the first few days of the punk rock movement in Hollywood at 16 years old, really just dumb luck, I was in the right place at the right time, and brought that home with me, and I so those early bands that I formed in the Claremont area – starting with The Droogs – became, by default, really seminal, simply because I had been to Mecca at the very beginning of its big bang and brought the message back home with me almost immediately. I also think it’s fair to say that that outsider status, the proverbial chip on our shoulder, that we, and later other I.E. bands had, worked for us. It gave us an urgency, a ‘fuck you’ attitude, and a work ethic that, in the final analysis, gave us a real edge I think, and that’s why the Stepmothers became contenders on the Sunset Strip, long before any other I.E. band would.

All that being said, ultimately I don’t think we thought all that much about being polished or not at the time. We just wanted to be a big band, travel the world, meet thousands of girls, and entertain people. That was our rasion d’être.

12. Of all the little blurbs about you and The Stepmothers floating around the web, the two constant ones are: You sound like an American Billy Idol, and the constant comment about your revolving door of drummers. Care to comment.

I LOVED Billy Idol, because Generation X was one of my all time favorite bands, and I think that’s a really fair comment. Or is it a criticism? I take it as a compliment cause he rocked. But I also loved a lot of other singers and of course emulated them too. That’s what young artists do: they start by painting versions of the paintings they love, pick up something with every one and eventually that all coalesces into their own style, if they evolve into being any good. I think the reason that really came to be is that Billy and I had similar vocal physiques; we stole from the same people, and probably sang kinda naturally in the same keys, and had a similar texture to our growl. But he wasn’t the first guy to sing in a growl. I think he was a great, great rock singer, his tone and attitude were world class, and I’m pleased to be mentioned in the same breath as him.

As far as dummers… drummers are all fucking crazy. What can I say? And three of my dearest friends in this life – Stan Lynch, Dusty Watson and Alan Waddington – are drummers. Also, let’s face it, we were all kids who knew nothing about self-control. Our hormones, insecurities, addictions, and egos were dragging us around and it wasn’t always easy to keep a four-way marriage together. Also, I think it’s fair to say that Jay, Larry and I were all really rhythmically inclined, we were all decent amateur drummers, and we listened to and deeply loved and respected the great drummers of our era (Bun E. Carlos, Topper Headon, Joey Ramone, John Bonham, Clem Burke, Stan Lynch, the Motorhead guy, and the guy from The Attractions) and we wanted to play with someone who could be that good. That’s what we were after, and we never give up on trying to get someone who was that good. It’s a tall order; and one that was never filled for the Stepmothers, until Dusty Watson’s short stint with us. With him we were the best we ever were, and we would have murdered our families to keep him in the band, but his heart wasn’t in it, even though he loved us personally, he wanted to do his own thing, and you can’t force someone to love what you’re doing if they don’t. However once I found Alan for The Unforgiven, he became my musical soul mate and my best friend, and I never played with another drummer again.

12. Do you remember when you realized that punk was going to be a part of your life forever?

Yes, the moment I walked down into the bowels of the Masque at age 16, and saw my first spiky-haired English punk (a roadie for the first generation Germs, who were ‘practicing’ there). It was all over for me. I had found my religion and my direction and knew, without doubt, that this was for me and that it was what I was gonna do. I went from a straight A student at the end of my junior year to graduating high school with a D-minus, because all I wanted to do was be at the Masque and be a punk rocker.

13. What was your first exposure to punk rock?

See above. Then the Masque shows. Rodney on the Roq. And later, the Hong Kong Café, Madam Wongs, and Whiskey shows, and then the Tuesday night punk rock nights at the Starwood (where I first realized we had grown into real numbers; by god we had become a movement).

14. Which artist, band concert and/or show had the most impact on your life?

Elvis “That’s the Way it is” concert film in ’70, Zeppelin live at the forum in ’77. Wolfgang, Nick Gilder, Derringer, The Heaters, and many others at the Starwood in ’78/’79. The Clash at the Hollywood Palladium in ’79. About 50 amazing shows at the Hong Kong Café (X, Alleycats, Fear, Go Gos, Simpletones, and the list goes on…). Joan Jett holding court at the Whiskey every Tuesday night as she worked out what her amazing thing was gonna be after she left the Runaways. The Misfits at the Whiskey in ’81 (I stood next to an awestruck Rick James watching them with about 50 other people total, and that was one of the best club shows I ever saw). Motley Crue at Pookies in ’81. Seeing Twisted Sister, Tank, The Alarm, Big Country and a bunch of other great shows in London in ’83. Springsteen “Born in the USA” tour at the LA Coliseum in ’85. Dropping acid and watching Pink Floyd rehearse their “Momentary Lapse of Reason” stadium tour in the rain in ’87, with about 40 other people, which was the night I wrote “Days Like These.”

“The sun was shining/the sky was crying/it just tore apart/and down came the rain/I was soaking/yeah I was freezing/But I was feeling/no kind of pain/come a fireball/I held it in my hand/you see before you/a man who’s known greatness/I had a vision/a revelation/I took a look inside of me/and I am a sensation/Days like these I feel like I can change the world” (the fireball was Pink Floyd’s sun effect light show, and we were all soaked, freezing, and feeling no kind of pain.)
U2 Achtung Baby warm up tour at LA Sports Arena in ’93 is the best arena rock show I ever saw, period. When I was on the road with Kid Rock in ’99 (filming a documentary) as he broke through to the mainstream, I experienced some of the best rock n roll energy on and off the stage ever. That was the last time I truly got rocked by a show or an artist live.

15. Aside from the “mystery” Stepmothers tracks recorded in Germany in 1998, do you have anything else in the works?

Not on any sort of concerted level. I write songs every now and then, wrote one the other day that I think could really be good, but as an artist I’m more consumed by bigger palate stuff: writing and producing my TV shows, as well as writing screenplays (I have two new ones that I’m proud of, have been optioned and that I’m running with), and also playing around with a sex, drugs and rock n roll memoir (although just using the word “memoir,” especially in this era of everyone and their cousins writing memoirs seems nauseatingly self-involved).

17. Who are you listening to now?

I listen to everything as long as it’s good. Only two kinds of music in this world: music that I like… and music I don’t like. I don’t give a fuck about genre and listen to everything from hardcore punk to country (which at its best is some of the greatest 70s-rock style songwriting around these days), jazz, metal, pop, trance, hip hop, it’s all about the song. Of the bands I’m in love with and really follow Snow Patrol is probably number one – easily the best pop songwriting to come along in a looong time: smart, romantic, sexy, tuneful, melodic, singalong choruses, great stuff). I’ll still listen to anything Oasis puts out, although they’ve been disappointing me like an inconsiderate lover for over a decade (I continue my vigil primarily because Liam Gallagher has one of the best rock voices of all time and when his brother is on – and again, he hasn’t been on, for me, since the 90s – he is a great songwriter). Kings of Leon are good, not deserving of the second-coming label they’re being saddled with, but “Use Somebody” and “Sex on Fire” are great songs. I wish U2 would make a great record again, but that seems like a dead issue. The new Sade single – “Soldier of Love” – is phenomenal. I like John Mayer a lot; I think he is lyrically really moving and I like his voice, and the guy can really play (he wrote a song a few records back called “Split Screen Sadness” that is one of my favorite lyrics ever). I’ve heard some interesting stuff lately from One Republic, Owl City, Carolina Liar, Diane Birch, and Bonobo. I like a lot of the trance stuff, LOVE Massive Attack, although they let us down with “Heligoland,” nothing’s resonating with me off that record (yet). And I’ll give a listen to anything by Lemon Jelly, Tim McGraw, The Donnas, Kenny Chesney, Green Day, Dierks Bentley, Switchfoot, Keith Urban, or Beyonce.

18. You are one of the few musicians from that time period that recorded more than once for the same label, Posh Boy. How was/is your experience with Robbie Fields?

I like Robbie now but I hated him back in the day, and as this question suggests, I was not alone. He was a pirate and probably ripped everybody off, but – and this is a really important ‘but’ – Robbie also was pivotal in launching our scene and a lot of careers, including mine. Jay also worked for him, so Jay was always pushing the Stepmothers agenda behind-the-scenes. I heard great stories about bands attacking Robbie back in the day trying to get money out of him (a particularly famous, if apocryphal, one had TSOL beating up Robbie’s car, with him in it). Robbie kind of attacked me once, at Madame Wong’s West, I don’t exactly remember why, but I’m sure he had gotten wind of some slagging that I had probably done (and again, the lineup for slagging off Robbie within the community was a long one). As I remember it Robbie had some big bouncers in tow and tried to bait me into hitting him by swinging on me, knowing I’d kill him if I got a punch in, but that it would never get that far because he had the bouncers standing by. I remember standing there with my spike-covered fist cocked back to John Wayne that puny, doughy, English sonofabitch and seeing the bouncers in the wings and the whole scene-to-come played out in my mind in seconds (and it did not end well for me, being beat up by those guys and maybe thrown in jail was on that list). I mostly remember being really shocked by his attempted plot. Robbie was not a fighter, and I was no one to be trifled with. He probably had had a lot to drink. We’re facebook friends now, he lives in Asia, and I think of him fondly, even though I never saw a single penny from anything I ever did on that label. But let’s face it, who else was gonna put out all those records? Not Warner Bros, that’s for sure. And Robbie put his money where his mouth was. I wasn’t in it for money anyway, none of us were… well, not until later…
: )

19. Other than being in the incredible bands you were in (The Stepmothers, The Urge, Overkill, and The Unforgiven), give us some of your greatest memories of being the punk scene back in the late 1970′s, early 1980’s.

See above. It was an actual artistic movement at first. There was no specific, sound, direction, or look. You’d see all these different bands at the Masque doing all this different kinds of music, each one with their own distinct look and vibe. It was beautiful. It didn’t last long. By ’79 the beach punks had created a uniform, and along with it a dangerous, no-fun vibe, and people started getting hurt if they didn’t have the ‘right’ look. That’s when it was over. It broke my heart. I remember seeing The Clash at the Palladium in ’79 and those HB punks were all there in force, looking like a gang, same hair, same sweaters, same vibe, and they were Sieg-Heiling The Clash (who did not appreciate it at all I can tell you, as evidenced by Mick Jones that night taking off his guitar and sledgehammering one of those knucklheads), and I remember thinking how awful that was and how I wanted nothing whatsoever to do with what the scene was becoming. Also happened with the Darby followers when he got back from the UK with his quasi-Adam & the Ants, Mohican drag (cool look, don’t get me wrong, but there’s nothing cool about a look when a thousand kids adopt it at the same time and look exactly alike and then start beating the shit out of people who don’t look like them – which is exactly what the “hippies” – who weren’t by the way, they were more like construction worker, rocker, California rednecks – had been doing to us punks). The LA punk rock movement was beautiful and exciting for a minute and then it just got dark and ugly and repellant to me. It changed again as the scene morphed in ‘81 when the coolest of us got into the NWOBHM bands and incorporated that into what we were doing (bands like Tank, Motorhead, Girlschool, Def Leppard, Judas Priest) which led directly to what the Stepmothers ended up doing, and Overkill, then Motely Crue (and when the Crue broke through that was really the defining moment in the synthesis of the punk and the heavy metal scenes. We had punks and rockers at our shows like a few other bands, but the Crue really won over virtually everyone’s hearts in both those disparate scenes and successfully brought them together).

20. Our last question, rather than complain about the current state of punk rock, my question to you is: do you find it strange or maybe amusing how incredibly accepted punk is now?

Sure. But then again, no, not at all. Every incarnation of rock n roll starts out as an underground thing that feels dangerous and scary to the status quo, and then years later grows quaint and fuzzy once the kids who embraced it and stood with it become the status quo. Punk is no different. And it is now quaint. I see these kids in Mohawks and bondage pants and a part of me thinks, wow, that is so tired, it’s like a nostalgia show, like kids dressing up in 50’s clothes, looking like a revival of “Grease.” But of course the flip side of that is that they’re just kids figuring out what they want to be and that look speaks to them, so more power to ‘em.

I went through a period in the early 90s where I had no use for the Green Days of the world because it felt like a retread (and I always hated it when American singers, even back in my day, sang with phony English accents, which I felt Green Day was the epitome of in the early 90s; doing, what I felt at the time was like, a nostalgic throwback thing that was not nearly as good, not to mention as inspired, as the original). However, I don’t feel that way at all anymore, and believe Green Day evolved into one of the best guitar bands of our time. Thank God for Green Day. I mean it. “American Idiot” is a brilliant record and they are a great band. I’m not ashamed to admit that I didn’t see it at the time. On the other hand the Blinks and Sums and all those bands with numbers in their names did nothing for me… because it all comes down to the songwriting and they didn’t write good songs. No punk band is going to have the power or impact of the originals from the original movement, because it’s not new anymore. It’s impossible.

The next thing will be its own thing. I’m standing by.

Can’t hardly wait.

Some of the usual suspects this week, with a few new ones thrown in the mix for good measure. I’m really spending time with that Gears reissue, they’re a band I was not very familar with until this comp. sadly. Thanks for the promo Hepcat! Thanks also to any other folks who were good enough to send me promos. They’ve been ramping up in the past few weeks for some odd reason. Still, most are quality so I’m not complaining.

Right Click To Download

Time: 65:52
File Size: 90.5MB

Tracks played:
01. The Reaction – The Kids Arrived (We Went and Recorded It Anyway 1977-1984 compilation)
02. The Gears – I Smoke Dope (Rockin’ At Ground Zero)
03. Youth Brigade – Shoulda Stayed Home (Come Again)
04. Brain Handle – Shit Pizza (Brain Handle EP)
05. Life Trap – Suburban Nightmare (Bleak Reality EP)
06. Adrenalin O.D. – A Nice Song in the Key of D (single)
07. Adolescents – Self Destruct (Adolescents)
08. Really Red – Pigboy (Really Red CD)
09. Bad Religion – American Dream (80-85)
10. False Prophets – Good Clean Fun (Blind Roaches and Fat Vultures Phantasmagorical Beasts of the Reagan Era)
11. Artistic Decline – Reason For Life (Random Violence)
12. Patriots – The Guilty Walk Free (Land of the Free EP)
13. Kulture Shock – Fake Ass Kids (Holy Shit EP)
14. The Vicious – I Don’t Believe In Christ (Alienated)
15. N.O.T.A. – Frustration (None of the Above)
16. Dwarves – Better Be Women (The Dwarves Come Clean)
17. Sloppy Seconds – You Got A Great Body, But Your Record Collection Sucks (More Trouble Than They’re Worth)
18. Screeching Weasel – I Hate Your Guts On Sunday (How to Make Enemies and Irritate People)
19. The Queers – Fuck the World (Love Songs For the Retarded)
20. Teenage Bottlerockets – She’s Not the One (Warning Device)
21. Police Bastard – Payback (Traumatized)
22. Psychotic Maniacs – Self Destruct (Tribes of Melbourne EP)
23. X-S Discharge – Across The Border (Life’s a Wank)
24. Anthrax – What Will Tomorrow Bring? (They’ve Got It All Wrong EP)
25. Broken Bottles – I’ll Dress You (Hospital)
26. Danger’s Close – Just a Man (split with Destructors666)
27. Fugazi – In Defense of Humans (State of the Union compilation)
28. Neon Christ – It’s Mine (Double 7″ bootleg)
29. Rigor Mortis – Silent Scream (Somebody’s Gonna Get Their Head To Believe In Something compilation)
30. The Voids – A Mess (Kill a Generation)

I’m not a big stat checker, and haven’t looked at how much bandwidth the podcast uses in a long time. The last time I checked was about a year ago and the show ate about 40-50 gigs a month, sometimes only 30 or so. Not bad I thought, this thing peaked which is fine. Well I just took a look at past logs. In December of 2008 the show used up 400 gigs of bandwidth. I’m truly shocked that the crappy little hour of music I cobble together is being downloaded by so many people. I expected to see a number close to the original which lets me think “who gives a fuck if I miss another Sunday, nobody listens anyways”. Not the case apparently! I’m glad the shows are listened to at all and hope everyone is enjoying them. I’ll do my best to get back to the weekly thing, it’s more out of laziness that I’ve slacked recently than almost anything else. While the trend seems to be going down a little (300 gigs used in January and 180 in February), it’s still pretty great that anyone likes this thing and I thank you for giving me a little of your time.

-Scott

Right Click To Download

Time: 55:51
File Size: 76.7MB

Tracks played:

01. Chronic Seizure – Over My Shoulder (Ancient Wound)
02. Cause For Alarm – Poison in the Machine (Cause For Alarm EP)
03. Condominium – Let’s Die (Hello Tomorrow EP)
04. Street Trash – What the Shit (Street Trash EP)
05. The Sick – We Will (Killing My Hope)
06. Pedestrians – Violent Red (Ideal Divide)
07. Bark Hard – No Will Power (Bark Hard)
08. Life Trap – Bleak Reality (Bleak Reality EP)
09. The Snobs – Skate Holiday (Control EP)
10. Reprobates – Stress (Stress EP)
11. Lost Kids – Cola Freaks (single)
12. Radiators – Television Screen (single)
13. Randoms – Let’s Get Rid of New York (A B C D single)
14. Teenage Popeye – Life Is Cheap (Modern Problems EP)
15. The Enemy – Bang Bang You’re Dead (single)
16. The Mad – Eyeball (single)
17. The Panics – No Feelings (Please Panic!!)
18. Braineaters – Fun Time (single)
19. Blanks – Understand (Northern Ripper single)
20. Criminal Class – Soldier (Fighting the System single)
21. Cut the Shit – Boston Cops (Harmed and Dangerous)
22. Commies – Drop That Needle (Rock-n-Roll Alone)
23. The Ex – Human Car (Singles. Period)
24. Le Shok – Give Me Something Help Me Please (We Are Electrocution)
25. Detention – Dead Rock and Rollers (single)
26. Code of Honor – Stolen Faith (Complete Studio Recordings)
27. Sluggo – Erase The Thought (Contradiction EP)
28. Bad Brains – Pay To Cum (single)
29. Spent Idols – Oh No (Here We Go Again) (Punk Uprisings Volume 1 compilation)
30. Complete Disorder – We Must Do Something Now (The Thing That Ate Floyd compilation)