Parents of Punkers

It has been awhile since my last post in June. The idea was to spend the summer doing research, talking with friends, and collecting Denver punk artifacts. The fall would be devoted to wrapping-up the writing and art and have it delivered to the editor and designer by late December. This is still my goal.

As my wife Ana and I were preparing to return back to work in Ethiopia in late July, my father had a stroke and passed less than a week later. I’ve been struggling with the loss, which has affected my writing and art making. Typing out the first draft of the story below was like pulling teeth; I’ve been sitting on it for weeks. I woke up the other morning after a series of bad dreams and for some unknown reason the song “Parents” by the Descendents was on loop in my head. The song, the dreams, it all clicked. I scrapped the original draft and banged out a revision. The inks and the paints are out on the table; it’s time to get busy.

Parents, Why don’t they shut up? Parents, they’re so fucked up… The iconic song by the seminal SoCal punk band the Descendents was the soundtrack for many of my friends growing up in the early 80’s. The lyrics perfectly captured the growing pains and strained relationships between parent and child. I’m pretty certain that every person has battled and tested the will of their parents growing up. Some carried that struggle well into adulthood and perhaps straight to the grave. There is something innate about seeking approval from our parents; in short, we want them to love and praise us in everything we do. As to quote Bill Cosby, "I Started Out as a Child" and would like to include that I’ve been teaching in the classroom for almost 20 years, I feel confident in stating that all children just want to be loved.

The tender love between parent and child isn’t always a guarantee. The hardships of life are constant barriers that some adults have trouble putting aside. It takes a lot of love to unconditionally give to another person day in and day out in the lifelong contract of parenthood, though there is notion in America that the cord is cut on the eighteenth birthday. Healthy relationships seldom come naturally, it takes work to maintain them. It’s easy for an angst-ridden teen to point the finger at mom and dad. Some punk bands had their own way of verbalizing their discontent with parents. San Francisco’s Sick Pleasure had the tongue and cheek song, “I Want To Burn My Parents.” Orange County’s D.I. jokingly shouted No Moms, “What we need is no moms!  They don't understand me.” Denver’s hometown heroes, The Frantix unapologetically sang “My Dad's a Fuckin' Alcoholic” When asked whose father in the band was an alcoholic, the band nonchalantly responded, “isn’t everyone’s father an alcoholic?”

Ironically the bands that sang about parents back in early 80’s I know for a fact are parents themselves thirty plus years later. Currently the Descendents are playing a couple of Riot Fest shows with original bassist Tony Lombardo. The group is performing the entire Milo Goes To College album, which features the cut Parents and other coming of age songs like Suburban Home “I don't want no hippie pad, I want a house just like mom and dad.” That notion has pretty much has come full-circle, be it that the band had envision it or not. The band members have spouses, kids, pets, houses, and the whole enchilada. I wonder what the band’s take would be if their kids formed a band and wrote songs about their parenting skills? Perhaps they would encourage it. 

Bobage 

I had been in my fair share of bands since 1983. In 1987, my friend Toledo Pat and his girlfriend rode back to Denver with me from the east coast. They initially stayed at my parent’s house for a week. During that summer we tried to get a band going. We wanted to do something humorous, dumbed-down, and elementary to mock the current state of punk rock. Pat had mentioned that he had a joke band back in Ohio called the Lawn Honkies that played all MDC (Millions of Dead Cops) covers. The highlight of the group was actually opening for MDC. I thought that was brilliant way ridicule and take the air out of a heavily charged political band. We formed Mohican Youth (in reference influx of bands that incorporated Youth into their name). We had six songs that were more or less the same cord progression played at different octaves. Our song titles were: school sucks, works sucks, parents suck, and anything else that would be stereotypical or what we called Quincy punk (mainstream media’s demonization of punk) . We used the same lyrics, but just interchanged the noun.

Mohican Youth's first show was suppose to be opening for Dag Nasty, but Toledo Pat returned back to Ohio. Pat thought it would be funny to add ex-Necros underneath our name. He went to school with members of the Necros back in Toledo.

Pat and I scribbled down the lyrics on backs of fliers and left them lying on the floor of my bedroom. At the age of eighteen after graduating high school I was still occupying my childhood room coupled with all the perks such as mom doing my laundry. One afternoon I’m guessing sometime between classes at the community college and working at the donut shop was when my mom dropped off my clean underwear, shirts, and socks and discovered the flier with the words to parents suck. Unknown to her that Mohican Youth was purely a joke band, she took a pen and scribbled something to the effect of “we fucking love you son!” and left it on my pillow. Later that day when I discovered her note, I was beyond embarrassed, I felt horrible that I hurt the person who loved me the most. My mom immediately broke into tears when I found her to explain the joke band and lyrics. While she didn’t have the frame of reference to entirely understand the sarcasm and the mockery, but understood enough that it wasn’t a personal attack on her or my dad. It was a hard lesson in communication learned that day.

I wasn’t exactly the ideal child growing-up. I did my fair share of testing my parents. My dad in particular didn’t like that I got into punk rock, especially the aesthetics of it. He had clear rules and expectation and was always forthcoming in making sure I was aware of them. Mohawks, dyed hair, and torn clothing were out of the question. He especially hated the foul language bands used in their lyrics. Above all, he wanted to make sure punk wasn’t the gateway to drugs and crime. Other than that, he never denied or stood in the way of my interests unlike some of my friend’s parents who thought punk rock was the arrival of the antichrist.

This drawing was a birthday gift from my eldest brother Tom in 1983. I think he and my parents secretly wanted to send me to bootcamp. 

I would go as far to say that my parents encouraged my preoccupation with punk; they did take me to record stores and funded my record buying habit though chores like mowing the lawn and shoveling snow off the driveway and sidewalk. My dad drove me to shows, and when I wasn’t out of the venue by midnight, he’d come in and fetch me. There were a couple of occasions when he had to walk through the pit of slam-dancers to find me. My parents put up with the racket of my friends and I made in the garage learning to play our instruments. There was even a bass guitar under the Christmas tree one year. All the above was more or less a testament that they were ok with it all.

Like any other self-absorbed teenager, at the time, I focused on everything they wouldn’t let me do. I get it, most parents just want to protect and keep their investment alive. It’s the duty of a parent. Kids often forget their parents have a lot of shit on their plates as well. After a long day of work, it’s hard to muster up the energy or desire to drive a kid across town for a punk rock show. I understand and appreciate that now as an adult. Sometimes you need perspective, distance, and experience to truly understand. In retrospect both mom and dad were pretty great and I was very fortunate to have them. Even the Descendents had to grow up and now sing about juggling relationships, kids, and work: “Who knew the way things work in this world we’ve made for ourselves? Where I work myself to death, and you raise the kids…”

Special thanks to Ana Medina and Monica Zarazua for editing help and Chris Shary for being there and photos. 

The future of Punker Bob

First off, I would like to thank everyone for reading and supporting this book/blog project. I have enjoyed the discipline of making drawings and posting a new story each week during the past six months.

I do have some big news to share. This project will be turned into a physical book and set to be released in the summer of 2015. Punk historian, professor, and author David Ensminger (Left Of The Dial: Conversations With Punk Icons and Visual Vitriol: The Street Art and Subcultures of the Punk and Hardcore Generation) has tentatively agreed to be the editor. Our very own Sonny Kay (Angel Hair/VSS/GSL Records) has agreed to be the aesthetic director and design the layout. I greatly admire both David’s and Sonny’s work and feel honored by their willingness to be part of this project.   

At the moment, I’m not sure if there will be a fundraiser campaign for the project, that is something to be decided by the end of summer. Here is the timeline.

December 2014: Complete art and writing

Spring 2015: Editing and Layout

Summer 2015: Book release in Denver

I will be returning home to Denver this summer to visit family, reconnect with friends, and conduct interviews and research for this project. If you have some old photographs, fliers or have a story to share, I would very much like to speak with you. You can contact me by clicking here.

With that all said, Punk Bob will be taking a break and will return in early August with a batch of fresh writings and artwork.

See you in Denver. 

Work in progress.

Work in progress.  

Figuring out the Denver Punk band family tree.

Thoughts on the growth and split of the Denver punk scene

Coming to terms with change. 

My friend Chris Shary showed me a photograph a few years ago from when the school he teaches at had a “Dress as your culture day.” I believe he wore a band shirt, and sported a dyed Mohawk. His rational was that punk was his culture. His visual statement and articulation for doing so made a lot of sense to me. I had grown up bi-cultural with one foot in my Mexican-American heritage and the other in the suburban Denver landscape. I struggled fitting neatly into either. When I was turned on to punk, it felt like an easy blend. The music and aesthetics were immediately appealing.

When I first got into punk/hardcore scene in Denver it was a welcoming and comfortable environment where most people seemed to get along. The scene seemed to be made up of creative minds that were dissatisfied with the current state of popular music, art, and culture. It was as if their natural inclination was to seek out, explore, and experiment with sights and sounds that broke from popular established norms. This approach to making art and music produced sights and sounds that were wide and varied. The act of pushing the margins challenged the conventional boundaries; people didn’t subscribe to one set of ideas or principles of what punk should look and sound like. It was typical to see the same people at both hardcore punk and experimental/industrial/noise shows. If an event was all-ages, it was common to see a variety of age groups, from young teens to middle-aged adults mingling in the same space. It was truly a unique time to be involved with and exposed to this type of underground movement. The setting was prime for someone like me to be mentored by elders. They paved the way and gave us the tools and knowledge to later forge our own adventures and expand a scene that they helped create. The do-it-yourself ethic was instilled in me at a very early age through the simple process of observing and interacting; just being there taught me about life and people, something that lacked in my formal schooling.

Rok Tots circa 1980 at Malfunction Junction. Original photo by Joe Hughes. Brush and Ink drawing by: Bob Rob Medina. 

Punk by nature is a somewhat angry and aggressive form of expression. I wouldn’t categorize it as violent, though unfortunately the Denver scene and others across the country were plagued with that element. I would argue that by 1983, the scene grew as shows became more frequent. The growth is partially due to suburban kids discovering punk through friends and the portrayal of the movement in the media. As I stated in an earlier post, punks had been historically depicted on primetime television as negative antagonists. To a bored or an outcast teen, the punk identity can validate and feed into the natural urge to rebel. It could be argued that, like greasers in the 1950’s, punk eventually transformed into a ready-made identity, easily consumable for someone who lacked one. One of the main rationales for why kids drift into a movement like punk is that it is a way of differentiating oneself from the masses that clutter the halls of public school setting. Here lies the problem of misinterpretation; punk was really more of an attitude and a reaction to the mainstream and not so much a look. These misconceptions by the media of how punks were supposed to look and act ushered in the negative and violent elements.     

Phil Bender of the Pirate Art Gallery was always kind enough to fuse music along with visual and performance art. Flier source: Trash Is Truth

As the scene grew, the variety of personalities and opinions of what loosely defined punk was challenged and altered. Some people got into the movement as a form of self-expression while others sought to piss off parents, teachers and society at-large. In the fall of 1983 punk was becoming more of a visual spectacle. Larger shows such and Black Flag, the Circle Jerks, and X at the Rainbow Music Hall were attracting large masses, many which got their cues from the media. Violence started to infiltrate the scene and become more commonplace at shows. Several newbies had a jock-like mentality, entering the dancing pit shoving and punching. One of the reactions to rid a dance floor of these outsiders was when Jeff and Shawn initially took it upon themselves to lay into them as a way to preserve our scene. Ironically, they would be the founding members of a small group of friends who would later call themselves Denver Skins.

Mike Serviolo and Johnny Meggit circa 1983. I like that the two are young and sport different clothes and hair styles compared with other audience members. Original photo by Joe Hughes. Brush and Ink drawing by: Bob Rob Medina. 

By 1984, the original scene was beginning to splinter as subgroups and cliques were forming. The umbrella that was once inclusive was being partitioned and redefined. As a natural order of things, members from the first wave of hardcore/thrash bands started to outgrow and expand their musical horizons as they became more proficient at their instruments. Bands started to explore, experiment and fuse other influences outside the punk confines. To be honest, there is only so far a style of music can be taken. In interviewing musicians from that time period, most stated that playing hardcore for a couple of years was becoming stale. Most groups seldom lasted a year and change. Bands were breaking-up, trading members and embarking on new musical horizons. Despite the change in musical directions, as a whole, band members retained their underground, anti-rock star stance and committed themselves to making music for the sake of music on their terms.

New bands were cropping up, the scene was changing and yet the sense of unity and Colorado pride was ever present. If felt like Denver was a bastard child in the scope of a national movement. Denver seldom received respect and was often skipped over by touring bands in the early years. Local bands relied on each other for exposure and support. It was typical for groups like ASF and Happy World to give shout-outs to other Denver bands on their record lyric-sheet inserts. It fostered a real sense of community that most bands were willing to help each other out despite political leanings and stylistic differences. This sort of gesture of promoting friends and helping others had a huge impact on how I would later operate promoting shows and releasing music.  

As groups were expanding their musical endeavors, new bands forming and a fledgling new crop of kids discovering punk, distinctive music styles were being established. Bands like the Frantix and White Trash were a more guitar driven. The two bands later merged and became Madhouse and later The Fluid. The members still embraced the punk attitude and ethic, while the music became more accessible and rightly so. The Fluid played with conviction and kicked some serious ass. Happy World were raw, jangly, and sloppy in the beginning but made some tuneful well-played music by the end of their career. It was hard to categorize either bands music while other groups in the scene sought definition. Both Immoral Attitude and Uberfall pursued and established a more street punk style of music and image. Many of their friends and audience members mirrored that aesthetic.

John Robinson from the The Fluid. I'm sure some college student has written a masters revolving around why musicians cross dress and gender bend. There certainly wasn't a shortage of charismatic frontmen in Denver. Original photo by: Larry Rasmussen. Brush and Ink drawing by: Bob Rob Medina.   

By 1986 there were many styles of punk being played in Denver. Crossover (a hybrid of punk and metal) was saturating scenes across the country, like thrash did in 1982-83. Hardcore/trash veterans Bum Kon were infusing some of those crossover elements. Their last recordings were tight, clean, and technical, a radical departure from the hurried blast of tunes from their Drunken Sex Sucks ep. Other bands like Acid Ranch went more for a jangly clean guitar cow-punk sound. Each of those bands had founding members from the original hardcore scene and took their music to the next level.

There was always a joke in the punk scene, "your hair is long and so are your songs!" Sure Bum Kon grew out their hair and the songs got longer, but boy did they continue to put out 2 great albums and kicked ass live.  

Flash Flood was a cool space, Larimer was not the best area of town to be in day or night. Flier source: Trash Is Truth 

The growing pains of the scene and bands venturing off in different directions away from a loud, fast, hard style of music was symptomatic of a generation gap. The umbrella that once housed the underground scene was being withered away. I know this firsthand. I watched bands like Acid Ranch and The Fluid from their inception and at the time I was stuck where they were a couple of years earlier. My tastes still yearned for the likes of hardcore and it was initially difficult to make that transition in becoming more open minded. In retrospect, I missed the opportunity to appreciate the bands that were expanding their punk roots.

I always thought of Burntfase as being one Denver's original crossover band. Jim was a pretty wild vocalist. Original photo by: Unknown. Brush and Ink drawing by: Bob Rob Medina.  

 As a young teen, accepting and understanding that change is inevitable is a difficult process. I only saw the music on the surface and didn’t take into account that while the music was changing, those playing it were still punk at heart. I eventually realized that punk was more of an attitude, an approach to life, and somewhat a music style. It is comforting to know that many of the original scenesters still reside in Denver and continue to play music, many who made a full circle and returned back to their roots of playing loud and hard.   

Thanks: Monica Zarazua and Ana Medina for editing help, Jill Razer, Nate Butler and Michael Serviolo for chatting.