Love or Hate her: This is Jill Razer.

Growing up I always admired tomboys, to be more exact, tough girls. Mostly because they were as rough as my male counterparts and didn’t mind playing in the dirt, a game of football in the street, or guns around the neighborhood. There was always something cool about that type of girl, even characters from TV shows and movies like Jody Foster in the Bad News Bears. I liked that she was uncompromising.

When I got into punk, I loved the way Exene from X and Poly Styrene from X-Ray Spex had character, a sense of self and individualism. They spat in the face of gender roles, challenged the notion of beauty and more importantly didn’t need society’s approval on how they expressed themselves. Their aesthetic was a far cry from the Farrah Fawcett gold standard look of what teenaged boy fantasied about and teenaged girls imitated. The fact that people could just be themselves and bypass all the bullshit commercialism and social constructions shoved in our faces, was what made punk ideal.

When I started attending punk shows, I took note that women in the scene initiated ideas and had active roles, from playing in bands, to making fanzines, to promoting. Witnessing equal contributions by everyone involved quashed any gender stereotyping I might have otherwise developed.

Jill at the Taste of Denver. Original photograph: Cathie Burns (R.I.P): Ink drawing by Bob Rob (Medina).

Love or hate her, one of the staples of Denver punk rock in the 80’s was Jill Razer. Like Headbanger, she promoted a fair amount of shows and would often be at the door taking money or helping out in some capacity. She was tough and showed little tolerance for nonsense such as people trying to scam their way into shows. Over the years our friendship developed, and like other promoters she schooled me on how to successfully book shows, deal with cops, and everything in-between.

At the time, Jill took risks in finding places for bands to play (in-part thanks to Headbanger), getting a P.A. system, making and posting fliers, contacting bands and other thankless tasks. Jill not only faced adversity from the city, police, and other forms of authority, but also from those within the punk community. She did a lot for our scene so we were all able see bands, hang out with friends, and bring like-minded people together in the void that Denver often was. In fact most promoters unselfishly gave themselves for the greater good. It seems more than appropriate that Jill occupies a space in my forthcoming book: Denvoid and the Cowtown Punks.

Jill took the time to reflect and respond on questions I sent her during the past couple of months. This is herstory.   

How did you get into punk, your first punk show?

A friend of mine in Berthoud turned me on to punk back in late ’77.  My first show was the Ramones in ‘78 at the Rainbow Music Hall.

Promoting Shows?

I lived in Ft. Collins and there weren't any shows up there, so I started putting on shows at The Bellevue Grange outside the city in the little town of La Porte. All of the bands were from Denver. I only did a few shows there. Headbanger was a big influence on me. He gave me all kinds of information. I give him credit for becoming a promoter.

Your first show, how did it go? Was there a learning curve?

That first show at the Grange was back in 1983. Most of the audience was from Denver and a few folks from Ft. Collins. It was a packed house. I learned that using a band’s practice P.A. isn’t loud enough for a large hall. Charging $2.50 at the door is not so clever. Always have a bill amount. NEVER USE CENTS. My god, what a pain dealing with all the coins. It’s bad enough having kids panhandling out front to get into show and pay with pennies. Seriously, I've had a few kids pay with only pennies.

Razer's first show at the Bellevue Grange in LaPorte. Courtesy of Jill Razer

Did bands and punks treat you differently because you’re a female?

When I think about it, I was treated a bit differently. At first they thought I was doing this to be the ultimate groupie. After they talked with me, I commanded respect. In a sense I was never treated as a female; I was always one of the guys. This also backfired in many ways, mainly because I never had a boyfriend in all of those years.

What were some of the bigger obstacles you faced putting on shows?

Paying bands a guarantee, finding a venue, trying to do everything on a low budget. I worked as an offset printer so fliers were free.

There’s not much glory in being a promoter. There’s a lot of shit that you have to deal with. What kept you going?

Hell if I know. I became friends with many bands. That made me feel I was doing something important.

Best venue to book a show?

I liked doing shows where there was already a P.A. and all you had to do was fill in the slot. I think the Funhouse was my favorite place. Brian and I were the only ones booking so we did what we wanted.

At the Sonic Youth show at the German House, I remember you jumped on Big John to get him to stop dancing. Were there other times you had to get physical with people?

I didn’t have to get physical with anyone. But then I liked to push my weight around. I was a total control freak. The deal with Big John was that the German House didn’t want a pit, but Big John decided to start dancing/slamming in an obnoxious way. I took it upon myself to take him down and kick him out of show. In retrospect, I could have handled it differently. It did put a riff on our friendship.

Violence in the punk scene started to become a nationwide problem. What do you think was that root of that? Is punk inherently violent?

Rebellious kids hanging out with other rebellious kids listening to rebellious music. Hormones raging. In the beginning there wasn’t any violence, but the kids started to faction off into their own cliques. See, in the beginning we were the outcasts so we stuck together. The music wasn’t fractioned off into subcategories. The scene grew and people formed their own groups of friends. The difference in music tastes also contributed: there was: Oi, Hardcore, New Wave, Goth, Industrial. Each subcategory of punk attracted a different group of people and when you mix them together sometimes it explodes. 

The Denver Skins; did they impact any of your shows?

There was a group of kids that like to antagonize the punks and the punks wouldn’t stand up to the skins so of course the skins had fun just fucking with them. You know that jock mentality. It just escalated. Their numbers swelled. Not many people would stand up to them. I was one of the few who did. So, yes, there was an impact. If the skins were at a show there would always be an altercation. It was just a fact. The only time the skins wouldn't show up was if it wasn’t a hardcore punk show.

Harassment from the police?

Nope, I was really lucky plus I was always nice and respectful to the police (laughter). Not very punk rock of me. The cops never personally harassed me. I know Headbanger got harassed. There was a time the cops were on a witch-hunt for skins. They stopped punks and asked them questions, looked at their tattoos, took pictures, etc., but we didn't know who or what they were looking. As for cops showing up to shows, I learned a great Headbanger trick to hire off duty officers to be security. They would just wave at the other cops and there wasn't a problem.

Courtesy of Jill Razer

What about the Dr. Know show at the Funhouse?

As for that show, it was before I learned the off-duty officer trick. Another trick was to have a sign saying donations. The Funhouse was an illegal venue. The cops did come and bust that show. It was my biggest encounter with the police at any of my shows. They closed it down by force. I remember Dr. Know was on stage and they were trying to get them to stop and the drummer kept playing and throwing drumsticks at the cops. At that time I grabbed the door money and hid upstairs in a cabinet.  I put a note on the band’s van that I would meet them at my apartment so I could pay them. Well, they never saw the note, so the roadie took a bass amp with them for their services. We did meet up later that night to pay them and got the amp back. Mark (R.I.P.), a cook at Fatz City, came to my rescue that evening and got the shit beat out of him by the cops and was hospitalized.

What club/venue do you feel sentimental about?

Kennedys. There were many great shows there, but froze my ass off. The Funhouse for the same reason, but also froze my ass off there as well. The Packing House: it was well hidden and there were great parking lot parties, though it stunk on days when they burned the blood, bones, etc.  I guess it comes down to warehouses . They made a big impression on me. I love architecture.

At what point did you say, “fuck it” and tap out?

After the Corrosion of Conformity (COC)/BL’AST! show. That was the last straw.

Courtesy of Jill Razer

What exactly went down at that show?

Oh, that was a cluster fuck from the beginning. I got a call from COC they wanted to play Denver. I got them at a $1000 guarantee. BL’AST was on tour also, so I put them on the bill and they wanted a $700 guarantee. Burnt Fase opened. David Lee, bassist of Burnt Fase, was my partner and had money for the deposit. A few days before the show, COC called and wanted $1500. I couldn't make the numbers work so we cancelled. But as in true form I pulled a Headbanger and waited until the show to let everyone know. The reason was because BL’AST could NOT fill the Aztlan Theatre. It was either cancel and lose the deposit or change venues. So I added a local band, lowered door price, and said the COC van broke down. David Lee said he’d handle the security; it was mostly his buddies. The show went on no problem other than a few complaints. The next thing I remember a fight broke out with the skins, and my friend Danica and I got maced. Damn that burned and pissed me OFF! Seats were being torn out and fists were flying. David's security couldn't handle the crowd and the venue brought in their own security to stop fights. The skins gathered outside and decided to try to tip the BL’AST’s van over but only broke the windshield. Two of Denver’s bigger promoters came up to me after the show and told me point blank, “It's promoters like you that give us a bad name.” I never wanted to be a big time promoter like those guys, I liked the grass root DIY underground approach to shows: the only way to know about a show is by word of mouth or if you were lucky enough to find one of the 500 fliers printed. So I had $500 in damages to the hall, the van and sound equipment. Out of pocket if I remember correctly, around $1000. How and why did this happened? COC had on the back of their album Animosity stating: "The only good thing about a skinhead is that they are biodegradable.” 30 years later I’ve had conversations with all parties involved and there are no hard feelings.

Excerpt from Westword. Collection of Jill Razer 

What was Nuter’em?

(Laughter) It was a joke band that never became a band. It was just something I would talk about all of the time, but it never came to be. It was supposed to be an all red head/ woman band, basically like a female Spinal Tap. It’s a comment on the music industry. I had these ideas of grandeur of how we would have all sorts of fake press on what manizers (think opposite of womanizer) we were and all of our shenanigans, artwork for ten albums that we released. In reality we had only five songs written and they were covers with new lyrics. Today, it could be a really funny play or a movie. I have a ton of stickers of the band’s logo. I even had the logo tattooed on my arm back then. My friend Marc just had the logo tattooed on her calf 30 years later. Too damn funny.

Stencil of Jill's fake band: Nuter'em. Photograph by author. 

You packed-up and moved to Germany. Was that part of a healing/distancing factor for you?

I had been trying to get rid of the Razer persona for a few years. I wanted to soften up. That really didn’t happen until I moved to Berlin. I was virtually unknown in Berlin, with the exception of the people/bands I went on tour with who lived there. I did a lot of growing and self-discovery there. I learned that I had a talent for teaching children and that I can work in a collective.

You moved from being a promoter to more or less a de facto gatekeeper of a certain time period of the Denver punk scene. Was it something you wanted to do or did it fall into your lap?

It was typical of me wanting to be in control. Plus, I’m a big softy and I wanted a way to stay connected with everyone from the past. It really was a great time in my life. Plus, I have a knack for keeping in touch with people and archiving. It just seemed natural to make the Denver Punk Scene Facebook page. I’m glad I did. I think many great things have come from it such as people getting back in touch with each other, amends being made, memories being shared, and us sharing what we accomplished.

You have love/hate relationship with the scene. Why do you think that is?

You’re right. I do. I guess I’m jaded. I saw so many fantastic bands back in the day but I don’t see a point in seeing them again because it will destroy those memories. I’ve tried to raise money to make a website dedicated to the Denver scene and I felt I was shat upon and didn’t get enough support. I still have the little bit of money waiting for that day where I will make a website dedicated to the scene and Phil The Fan. I don’t see the point of putting my blood sweat and tears into a project that no one gives a god damn about. l have many photos that haven’t seen the light of day.  I figure the page on Facebook will have to do until I get more people who will actually help me build this damn thing.

Special thanks to Monica Zarazua and Ana Medina for editing help. 

The Punk Rock Fanzine affect

Zines, the goodwill ambassador of Punk. 

In my opinion, punk fanzines (zines) have always been an essential element of the culture. They are a snapshot of any given scene and can be made by anyone willing to put in the time and effort into creating one. They can be written by hand or by typewriter and, now days, a computer. Generally zines included photographs of bands, friends, record reviews, interviews, gig reviews, opinions, rants, drawings, collaged clippings from other media sources, and most of all, the personality(ies) of the author(s). The trials and tribulations of making a zine is purely a labor of love.  Many hours go into the writing (poor spelling and all).  Then there is the daunting task of arranging the layout. When that’s finished, the next undertaking is scraping whatever funds you have available or saved-up and taking it to the nearest copy shop or printer. You’re lucky if you know someone who can hook you up, like a cool parent with an office job or if you can sneak into the copy room at school. Most of the time it will cost you more to make than you’ll get back trying to sell them. More often than not, your friends won’t have money to support your cause so you end up giving most away. 

Local record shop Wax Trax had their own as well as a label. 

Zines are a valid art form, a means of expression, a ground-zero documentation of a time and place. Zines bring people together, cause fights, provide information, help bands get known, and most importantly give the author(s) a voice. I made several in my time ranging from music-based to more of the artsy variety. There is definite satisfaction in collating the pages and stapling them together to later drop off at local record stores or showing up at a gig with a stack in your hand.     

Denver promoter Headbanger published Rocky Mountain Fuse. 

Another gem from the vaunts: Anarchy Annie, the voice behind Arche-Type Morality would have these inane shouting matches with the Denver Skins outside in the dirt parking lot of the Packing House..."GBH sucks" "No, Crass sucks"...    

One of my favorite memories about going to shows was seeing people walking around selling their zines and passing out fliers. I religiously collected both. Most fliers were taped to my bedroom walls while the zines were passed amongst friends, almost never to get them back. The ones I did manage to keep in my possession were the two major ones, Flipside and Maximumrocknroll (MRR). What I liked about MRR were the record reviews.  It served as a portal to learning about new bands. The ads on almost every page catered to my consumer needs.  Jimmy and I ordered a lot of records that way. The gossip, bitching, and name-calling that went on in the letter section were usually saturated with drama and closely resembled a milder version of a Jerry Springer show. Best of all, MRR consistently came out on a monthly basis so it was documenting a fluid and tangible movement.  The magazine still continues to be relevant and a credible source of information for punks. It’s been a couple of decades since I last bought an issue, but I’m glad it’s still going strong and serves the community. I am still convinced the reason why I wear glasses is because of the original small type MRR used; they had to cram a lot of words into a set number of pages.

The political heavy MRR both unified and polarized the scene. In their defense, I thought they had good intentions.  

In comparison to the heavily politically pages of the bay area’s MRR, Flipside’s attitude and approach was un-mistakenly Southern California. I would jokingly call it the People Magazine of the punk scene because it had a tinge of glamor to it; maybe it was the glossy cover. The interviews were casual and personable and there seemed to be a loose timeline between issues.  Basically it came out when it did. What I especially liked about Flipside was the classified ad section in the back.  It was something MRR lacked in the early days.

Flipside wasn't afraid to explore the sometimes obnoxious and absurd elements of the scene. They were a bit more open and less dogmatic than their counterpart in the bay area.  

I always enjoyed collecting things growing up and I probably picked-up the habit from my dad who was an avid coin collector. My dad got me started with a few of his doubles from his collection, that and football cards became a huge obsession for me in elementary school. A couple of years later that behavior carried over to fliers, zines, and records, most notably anything Sex Pistols related.

I was on a Sex Pistols quest starting back in the summer of ‘82. I had the obligatory Never Mind the Bollocks album, plus the single album version of The Great Rock'N'Roll Swindle (with the cool painting of the band on a sinking ship) and a couple of singles I found at Independent Records near the Aurora Mall. Then it snowballed from there. While I was scanning the classifieds of Flipside in early ‘83, I came across an ad from another obsessive Sex Pistols fan and contacted her. That was the start of a friendship that still continues to this day. Analen was my new pen-pal and since she was from LA, I thought she had better insights into the punk scene, at least better access to more shows, record stores and places to buy cool stuff like Creepers and band shirts. Aside from the Sex Pistols, she was into a lot of other cool bands and turned me on to them by sending me mixed tapes. At the beginning of our friendship we’d get letters from each other about once a week.  It was something I looked forward to coming home to after a long day at school. Through her ad, she amassed a nice collection of live shows, demos, records, and other memorabilia of the Pistols and she was nice enough to copy them for me. I always thought this gesture of sharing is what exemplified the punk ethic.

The Great Rock'N'Roll Swindle single album version cover is still one of my favorites to date. I especially like how tough and bulky the artist made Sue Cat Woman look. 

Around the date of Sid Vicious’ death anniversary I got the idea to make a flier about him. I gathered magazine clippings and band photos I had collected and walked over to the copy shop. I spent an hour in there making a collage to the effect of: “Remember Sid, make his death an international holiday” flier. The following day, I handed them out to friends, posted a couple on the lockers and walls at school and sent one to Analen. In response she made and sent me her own version.  Aesthetically it was much better than the one I created. It was rad to have a friend who was on the same wavelength.  

A more updated version.

As the letter writing between Analen and I continued over the years, I got the opportunity to stay with my cousin Veronica for a couple of weeks in LA during the summer of ‘85. I was stoked that I would get to be in what I thought was the epicenter of punk rock. Veronica was responsible for turning me on to skateboarding back in the summer of ‘77.  We were the same age and it was interesting to see the how different we had become by the time we reached our teenage years. Sadly, Veronica went to summer school until the afternoon so I was left to my own devices at the house alone and had to invent ways to keep myself busy, which included listening to Veronica’s Iron Maiden albums and attempting to mow her parent’s lawn. The lawn-mowing incident didn’t go so well. I discovered the grass in LA suburbs was a different variety than the one back home in Denver. You can say I was eventually forgiven for creating the massive brown spots on Veronica’s father’s prized green lawn. A word to the wise: Don’t mow another Mexican’s lawn.

Damn straight, don't mow another Mexican's lawn. 

Another highlight of that trip was finally getting the opportunity to meet Analen. Up until then the letters were the only way I knew her. One of my cousins drove me to her house in North Hollywood, where I met her family including her cousin Jennifer, who was a real life, straight out of the movies, Valley Girl. Up until that point, I thought Valley Girls was something Hollywood made-up.  Little did I know phrases like “fer sure” and “totally” and “tubular” and adding "like" at the beginning of each sentence was for real. 

Later that afternoon, Analen’s father drove us to the Anti-club for a show. Analen laughed on the way because I was tripping out on her dad’s digital odometer; I had never seen such. Between the car and her cousin, it was a bona fide cultural afternoon for yours truly.

Wasted Youth was suppose to headline but we sat through the opening bands: Rigor Mortis and Partners In Crime. The latter coincidently played Black Leather, an-after-the-fact Sex Pistols song with Steve Jones on vocals released as part of the super rare “Sex Pack” six-single set from The Great Rock and Roll Swindle soundtrack. The band started the song. Analen and I were all over it, and I think we were the only people in the crowd who knew the song. We approached the bassist after their set, talked about the Sex Pistols and I told him about my band Idiots Revenge. We traded addresses and exchanged a couple of letters thereafter. I hadn’t thought about that afternoon until I saw him again in Tijuana, Mexico about 8 years ago. He was chatting with some of my Mexican punk friends and I kept looking over his way and finally got the nerve to go up and ask him if his name was Perry. He said it was and we talked about the show in LA where we met.  He remembered it well. I asked him what he was doing in TJ. He responded, “My band Agent Orange is playing tonight.” Lucky guy.  

The trip to LA was a definite eye opener and confirmed my convictions that punk was indeed a community and how complete strangers can become instant and lifelong friends. Another revelation was that Valley Girls wasn't just a song by Frank Zappa and his daughter Moon Unit; they were real people and I was scared. There was a sense of satisfaction and accomplishment getting on the plane back to Denver with a new stack of punk records, several band t-shirts, and a couple of heavy metal albums from Veronica since she was transitioning out of her hard rock phase.  But the best part was being away from home, getting the opportunity to spend time with my cousins, meeting Analen, and having my eyes opened from new experiences. The trip proved to be a much-needed kick-in-the-butt to break-up the monotony of everyday cowtown living. When I landed it was time to get back to business with Idiots Revenge.  

Enjoy the song!

Special thanks to Ana Medina and Monica Zarazua for editing