Monday, September 29, 2014

Assholes Unite: Hardcore, violence, and the Denver Skins. Part 1

Circa 1984.

“Assholes Unite” was considered the self-proclaimed consciousness of the Denver Skins. That very slogan adorned by a giant swastika on the back of a repurposed white dress shirt belonged to a member of the group. The shirt was significant at the time, not only for its’ offensive in-your-face shock value, but it made a statement about the impending divisions within the punk scene.

An old punk relics. Artist: Bob Rob Medina 
Who and what exactly were the Denver Skins? I remember someone making a comment during a show at Kennedy’s Warehouse, “Those skins aren’t even from Denver, they’re from Aurora!” In the beginning, the Denver Skins didn’t hold overt racist or political leanings. It was a tight group of friends, mainly suburban teens with a lot of steam to blow off. They were typical in the sense that they drank, occasionally dabbled in drugs and identified with fast and aggressive music. Hardcore was their soundtrack to skating half-pipes and riding BMX bikes. I would argue that the prevailing attitude of the Denver Skins in its’ infancy stage came about as a reaction to the rules and ethos that punk was trying to establish.

Aurora Punks. Photo from the collection of Stuart. Artist: Bob Rob Medina 
The original Skinheads were a British subculture in the 1960’s that more or less faded into the background until punk rock exploded in mid-late 70’s. The resurgence of the skins splintered into two distinct camps; while both embraced the working class ethic and attitude, one faction held National Front (NF) leanings that paved the path towards the rise of nationalism and racism. The band Skrewdriver was one of the many dime-a-dozen British punk groups from the first wave in 1976-77. The band’s frontman, Ian Stuart (Donaldson) would later reform and reinvent the band in 1982. The new line-up seized the opportunity to be the center of the blooming white power movement that would infiltrate punk scenes globally. Denver would become one of those cities.

For the most part, the skins in Denver were tolerated. They did live up to their title of being "assholes" on the dance floor. One of their favorite tactics was jumping on the backs of unsuspecting people in front of the stage watching bands. There was a great deal of moaning about them from people within the scene. When the fanzine Lick It Up attempted to bring the joke band White Pride from St. Louis, it sparked quite a controversy. The skins had clearly carved out their own space in the scene and fostered an “us versus them” atmosphere that would linger for many years to come. In response to the White Pride flier, a group of punks authored an eight-page letter about the current state of the scene and calling for a boycott of the show. Jon of Citizen X printed and passed out his two-page response to the Boycott White Pride letter. Two of Denver’s weekly papers: Westword and Up The Creek picked up the story. San Francisco’s Maximum RockNRoll (MRR) reprinted all 8-pages of the original letter along with a letter from one of the author's Eliane. It was certain that once the news reached MRR, Denver’s punk scene would gain a reputation for being infiltrated by Nazis skinheads, which was hardly the case at the time.  

The flier that spurred the controversy. Collection of the author. 
Page 1 of 8, An Open Letter to the Denver Punks, regarding White Pride and the state of the Denver scene. I was handed this one evening at Kennedy's Warehouse. Collection of the author.
An excerpt from page 2. Collection of the author.
Excerpt from Jon (Citizen X ) "An open reply to the person(s) who wrote the boycott the White Pride letter." Collection of the author.
Excerpt from Gil Asakawa's Westword Article "As you reich it" Note the band's song titles and statement. Collection of the author.
With the skins gaining momentum and the closing of Kennedy’s Warehouse, older punks had become disillusioned with the changes in the scene and started dropping out and moving away. This was in early 1984, when most of the first wave of Denver’s hardcore bands such as Child Abuse, USA, White Trash, Frantix had all broken-up and moved on to start post-hardcore projects.

Circa 1981-83

Many punks from that first wave of Denver’s hardcore scene cite the Black Flag and the Circle Jerks shows at the Rainbow Music Hall in 1983 as a transitional period, the beginning of the end of the scene. Almost overnight there was an influx of hundreds of suburbanites with mohawks, buzz cuts, combat boots and leather jackets. The so-called punk look was taking shape and becoming more defined, verging on the concept of a uniform thanks to album covers, fanzines, and the mass media. I can certainly state that I bought into those aesthetics.  
Punk rockers Jeff, Tracy of A.S.F., and Jim hanging out at Kennedy's Warehouse. Original Photograph by Kat Parker. Artist: Bob Rob Medina
Most agree that the influence of skinheads and Oi music (a blend of pub and punk rock with working class sensibilities) influence on American punk and hardcore is a direct import from across the pond. The fashion (boots, braces, Fred Perry’s, shaved heads, fins, painted leather jackets, spikes, Creepers, etc.) was easily digestible for American kids looking for a uniform that would easily classify them as punk rockers or skinheads. New York and later London were clearly responsible for creating and defining a punk look. Little shops popped up all across America selling punk clothes and accessories. Denver’s version was Fashion Disaster. Some Denverites even made the journey to Los Angeles, to go shopping at places like Nana’s and Poseurs to get their fashion consumerism on. There’s no denying that the punk look was essentially a commodity that my peers and I subscribed to. In contrast, taking a peek back to early 80’s American hardcore, the bands and people at shows were more or less ordinary looking teens and young adults decked out in t-shirts and jeans sporting buzz-cuts. Point in case, Black Flag didn’t look like the Exploited.  

The looming violence

During the early eighties, punk was a threat. It attracted kids that didn’t fit in, to kids who were looking to be different, and to those that liked the aggression and violent aspect of the music. Hardcore punk didn’t start out as let’s sit around the campfire and sing Kumbaya. The music begged for a hostile reaction such as running around in a circle slamming into others in the pit and on the sidelines. The dance floor might consist of a handful of kids at a local gig or hundreds at a Dead Kennedy’s show. Larger concerts attracted more attention, thus drawing-in the curious and new, several that had their own interpretation of what it meant to be and act punk. The chaos and violence would soon be inevitable.

In many ways, punks were only united by their outcast status and taste for angry, aggressive, and loud music. Most participants in the scene weren’t out to intentionally hurt others. When people fell in the “pit” while slam dancing, others lent a hand to pick them up. It may sound like a contradiction in a room full of people running into one another, but there was etiquette to the chaos.

The slam dancing pit at Kennedy's Warehouse. Original photo by Duane Davis. Artist: Bob Rob Medina
Even punk icons like Ian MacKay and Henry Rollins got caught-up in the energy and violence of the music in the early days after their first trip to California in 1981. In numerous interviews, Ian cites a Circle Jerks show he witnessed in San Francisco where followers of the band drove up from Los Angeles and wreaked havoc on the SF punks.  The band’s followers, HB (Huntington Beach) Punks had a real appetite for violence at shows and on the dance floor. The show made a strong impression on the pair. The fury and intensity was nothing like they ever experienced. They returned back home only to introduce those violent characteristics to the Washington D.C. scene.

Violence wasn’t new to punk, it has always existed in one form of another. Skinhead violence was an outgrowth of what has been happening all along. The best way to define groups like skinheads, is a clique with a pack mentality. Early Boston hardcore band DYS (Department of Youth Services) had the backing of the Boston Crew, a group of hardline straight edge kids with shaved heads known to instigate fights at shows, mainly with people who drank alcohol. The song Wolfpack best illustrates this temperament: “A mini-army of angry youth. Wolfpack! Don't give us any shit Wolfpack! Or you're gonna get hit.” My friend Analen, an L.A. punk in the early 80’s wrote to me that she her friends were afraid of the violence in her scene. L.A. had “punk gangs” like FFF (Fight For Freedom), LADS (Los Angles Death Squad), and the Suicidals (friends aka family of the band Suicidal Tendencies). The aggressive dancing that Ian and Henry witnessed in 81’ by the HB Punks was just a preview of what was to come in many punk scenes across America.

The punk rock agenda

The older scene was mainly made-up of people who embraced a live and let attitude. They didn’t get into your shit and try define punk, much less dictate how the scene should be. One might describe the attitude as complacent. Race, gender, political leanings, and religion were rendered irrelevant. It was more about the music, being different. People coexisted. This was the prevailing attitude in the days before bands adopted agendas and got preachy and overtly political. The onset of hardcore changed all of that.

Divisions were inherently created as bands and fanzines started defining what punk rock was and wasn’t. The genesis of punk was that there were no rules and definitions. A contingent of the scene embraced this ideology and found itself in conflict with those that espoused a punk agenda. There were moments going to shows in Denver where the tension was thick between those who identified themselves as peace punks and those who were anti-peace for the sake of reaction and antagonism. The birth of the Denver Skins was a knee-jerk response to those wishing to impose an across-the-board punk identity.

To be continued.
Next post: Punx Unite, Assholes Die

Special thanks to: Nate, Evan, Jill, Mike, and Shawn, for the conversations and insights over the years regarding this topic.

Thanks to Monica Zarasusa and Ana Medina for editing help.  


  1. "Get out of the way, bitch," were the first words I heard, at my first show.

    I had anxiously anticipated the Necros show at The Packing House for days. I had gone to a couple of other 'legal' shows- the infamous Black Flag show at The Rainbow, X at the Merc- but this one was different. The underground location was a massive, brooding warehouse at the end of a long, dark road at a place called the packing house- and my nostrils told me why.

    Razor hung like a sling on Brewer's arm at the door- "JEEsus, we need to put an age restriction at the door- how old is this one?" she barked at my 23-year-old chaperone. Without waiting for an answer- she just spat "Have fun kids" and like a defiled Vanna White, she waved her arm circular at the wooden door. A punkrawk goddess.

    Inside, a mutli-colored carousel exploded in front of me. A belching kaleidoscope of sweat, spikes, and shaved heads blended inside and out, up and down, with sneers and rebellious angst. The band pounded at their instruments - punishing their equipment as it bludgeoned song after song in a twisted and melodic urging, daring the kids to circle faster, bigger and louder. If someone fell, another would swoop them back into the fury - refusing respite. Like the scene of a shattered mirror, flaying sharpened edges flew endless to the rumbling of dissatisfied youth.

    It was beautiful.

    Someone threw a toilet from the warehouse surrounding the packing house barn - sarcastically mocking "Here's your Ladies Room Lisa!" as clove cigarette smoke swirled in the moonlight, taming the blackened stench from today's blood and bones burn.

    A flashing of red and blue pulled into the parking lot and a crazed scattered ensued. Hopping into a VW bus, I found myself pillowed into a sea of leather jackets, torn fishnets, stiletto heels and booze. Fifteen- maybe more kids piled into a van- pulling people in it's side door as it tore down the dirt road, only to abruptly stop a few streets away at the nearby 7-11.

    The store was overrun with Packinghouse patrons. Blue Gatorade splashed on everything, big gulps and nachos flew through the air, and someone in a nearby car plugged in a cassette tape to the whine "I - Want- To- Be- a Cowboy..." . A harmony of spikey hair kids broke into to chaotic choir to the wail of the Vandals. Cow punks at their finest.

    Maybe there were as many bad times as there were good times at these shows. Like the infamous packinghouse, the scene eventually seemed to be the sad victim of arson, and burn down to the ground. But there were many, many great moments of magical mayhem. Like a sappy eulogy, I hope that those great times too, and most of all, will be long remembered.

    1. Nice memory. send me an e-mail bobrobart@gmail I'd like to know what else you have to say.

  2. Thanks for the insightful article. It really does bring back a flood of crazy memories; the shows, the venues, the scene, those idiot DS and all their affilates. The rainbow, the ladies choice, and KGNU "smash it up" anyone.. I do miss the packing house as "kity on a hot tin roof" mentioned in the reply. My favorite show had to be the Haters. It was Insanity. Thanks again for the stroll...