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Gonzo Report: Black Flag keeps waving nearly 50 years later
Mohawks, skinheads, longhairs, Doc Martens, and punk band T-shirts... But people were polite.
Mohawks, spikes, and patches: the best things in life stay that way.
On October 28, there was a punk rock revival at the San Diego House of Blues, with Total Chaos opening for Black Flag. This article about that show may not be for the faint of heart. If you’re sensitive to vulgarity or violence, now is the time to stop reading.
Black Flag, the hardcore punk band that started the SoCal hardcore movement, formed in 1976 in Hermosa Beach. Guitarist Greg Ginn is a founding — and the only original and constant — member of the band. There have been five singers: fellow founder Keith Morris, who went on to start the Circle Jerks; Ron Reyes, who walked off stage mid-performance during a May 23, 1980, show at the Fleetwood in Redondo Beach because he couldn’t handle the violence any more; Dez Cadena, who later became the band’s rhythm guitarist; Henry Rollins, whose stage presence was enough to make him something of a movie/television star; and pro skateboarder Mike Vallely. Vallely is friends with Ginn, and once took the mic from Reyes in 2003 after Reyes was ousted by the band mid-set. He became their official lead singer in 2014.
I recall discovering the hardcore scene when I was a teenager in the mid-‘80s. I was intrigued yet frightened: I liked the music, but the people were a different animal. Spiked hair, Mohawks and skinheads. They wore dirty, torn clothes, jackets sporting patches from bands like the Exploited, Misfits, and Subhumans. They lived in squalor, in their cars or in a closet somewhere. Besides the usual excessive amount of alcohol consumption, there was the snorting and shooting up of crystal meth and heroin. And the violence at the shows was just as much a part of the entertainment as the music. The girls were naughty, dirty, and down for a gang bang. That’s how I remember it, anyway. To get a fuller picture, maybe go onto Netflix or YouTube and watch The Decline of Western Civilization or Suburbia.
Fast forward to October 28. My friend and I got dumped off by our Lyft in front of the venue. We were hungry, and decided to grab a quick bite in the House of Blues Restaurant. A beer, a glass of Chardonnay, and a tri-tip sandwich cost us $30. The bartender was friendly and attentive. He let us know when the first band, Total Chaos, was starting. That was my cue to pay the bill and head next door to the concert hall. Once inside, the first thing I noticed was a bar to the right and a seated section overlooking the stage. We walked down three flights of stairs decorated with murals to the packed dungeon below. The place was perfect for a punk rock show: dark, cold, and cemented. Total Chaos was on the stage playing at a loud pace. The mosh pit below was filled with youngsters doing their best to uphold punk’s legacy by roughing each other up for fun. I headed to the bar in back where it was safe; a 24 oz. can of Pabst Blue Ribbon was the cheapest beer there at $12. That’s fucking punk rock. Drinking Chardonnay out of a can ($15 for 12 oz.) is even more punk rock. I saw people throwing their empty beer cans — at least I hope they were empty — into the pit, and joined in the fun. Total Chaos finished their set, which made for a suitable time to do some people watching. (Hip Hop music grooved in the background in between sets — at a punk show? How times have changed.) I still saw Mohawks, skinheads, longhairs, Doc Martens, and punk band T-shirts. But people were polite: gentle taps on the shoulder and “excuse me.” Earlier that week, I had gone to see Bob Weir & Wolf Bros. at Humphreys by the Bay. The people were ruder at that one. There was more pushing, no “excuse me,” and people trying to steal people’s seat spots. At least there were no personal dancing spaces at the Black Flag show. Etiquette becomes less of an issue in the pit; somebody’s always ready to cry “Fuck your dancing space!” and wreck you.
Greg Ginn was first on the stage. Singer Mike Vallely was the last. He started banging his head, and as the beat went from melodic to frenetic, so did the headbanging. The band started off with “Can’t Decide,” and played a lot of their classics: “Nervous Breakdown,” “Annihilate This Week” (per Setlist.fm, it was first time since 2014 for that one), “Gimmie, Gimmie, Gimmie,” “Loose Nut”, “Six Pack,” a nice long version of “Slip it In,” their MTV classic “TV Party,” and finally, “Louie Louie.” As they held down the rhythm section, drummer Isaias Gil and bass player Joseph Noval sounded more professional than punk. Singer Vallely has his own lyrical style, but still sounded like past singers Keith Morris on “Nervous Breakdown” and Henry Rollins on “Louie Louie.” I cannot discount Greg Ginn’s interwoven riffs layering through the many measured beats.
I went into the pit for the last song, “Louie Louie.” It may have been a tamer pit than the ones I remembered from the ‘80s, but I still got blasted in the ribs by some dude and knocked off my feet. As I flew toward the crowd, he caught me mid-air and placed me gently back on the floor. He was like 6 foot 4. In this pit, it was the girls who were being aggressive, throwing elbows and punches. A little skinny girl with grey tank top was trying to knock me around. First, she threw elbows at me and knocked my hat off. Then she came back around and socked me in my lip. I thought, I have been in a few pits in my life before this girl was born. She came at me again, but this time I was waiting. I elbowed her in her face, knocked her into the crowd, and hopefully knocked her the fuck out. That’s punk rock for you.
Here's something you might be interested in.
Gonzo Report: Black Flag keeps waving nearly 50 years later
Mohawks, skinheads, longhairs, Doc Martens, and punk band T-shirts... But people were polite.
Gonzo Report: Black Flag keeps waving nearly 50 years later
Mohawks, skinheads, longhairs, Doc Martens, and punk band T-shirts... But people were polite.
Mohawks, spikes, and patches: the best things in life stay that way.
On October 28, there was a punk rock revival at the San Diego House of Blues, with Total Chaos opening for Black Flag. This article about that show may not be for the faint of heart. If you’re sensitive to vulgarity or violence, now is the time to stop reading.
Black Flag, the hardcore punk band that started the SoCal hardcore movement, formed in 1976 in Hermosa Beach. Guitarist Greg Ginn is a founding — and the only original and constant — member of the band. There have been five singers: fellow founder Keith Morris, who went on to start the Circle Jerks; Ron Reyes, who walked off stage mid-performance during a May 23, 1980, show at the Fleetwood in Redondo Beach because he couldn’t handle the violence any more; Dez Cadena, who later became the band’s rhythm guitarist; Henry Rollins, whose stage presence was enough to make him something of a movie/television star; and pro skateboarder Mike Vallely. Vallely is friends with Ginn, and once took the mic from Reyes in 2003 after Reyes was ousted by the band mid-set. He became their official lead singer in 2014.
I recall discovering the hardcore scene when I was a teenager in the mid-‘80s. I was intrigued yet frightened: I liked the music, but the people were a different animal. Spiked hair, Mohawks and skinheads. They wore dirty, torn clothes, jackets sporting patches from bands like the Exploited, Misfits, and Subhumans. They lived in squalor, in their cars or in a closet somewhere. Besides the usual excessive amount of alcohol consumption, there was the snorting and shooting up of crystal meth and heroin. And the violence at the shows was just as much a part of the entertainment as the music. The girls were naughty, dirty, and down for a gang bang. That’s how I remember it, anyway. To get a fuller picture, maybe go onto Netflix or YouTube and watch The Decline of Western Civilization or Suburbia.
Fast forward to October 28. My friend and I got dumped off by our Lyft in front of the venue. We were hungry, and decided to grab a quick bite in the House of Blues Restaurant. A beer, a glass of Chardonnay, and a tri-tip sandwich cost us $30. The bartender was friendly and attentive. He let us know when the first band, Total Chaos, was starting. That was my cue to pay the bill and head next door to the concert hall. Once inside, the first thing I noticed was a bar to the right and a seated section overlooking the stage. We walked down three flights of stairs decorated with murals to the packed dungeon below. The place was perfect for a punk rock show: dark, cold, and cemented. Total Chaos was on the stage playing at a loud pace. The mosh pit below was filled with youngsters doing their best to uphold punk’s legacy by roughing each other up for fun. I headed to the bar in back where it was safe; a 24 oz. can of Pabst Blue Ribbon was the cheapest beer there at $12. That’s fucking punk rock. Drinking Chardonnay out of a can ($15 for 12 oz.) is even more punk rock. I saw people throwing their empty beer cans — at least I hope they were empty — into the pit, and joined in the fun. Total Chaos finished their set, which made for a suitable time to do some people watching. (Hip Hop music grooved in the background in between sets — at a punk show? How times have changed.) I still saw Mohawks, skinheads, longhairs, Doc Martens, and punk band T-shirts. But people were polite: gentle taps on the shoulder and “excuse me.” Earlier that week, I had gone to see Bob Weir & Wolf Bros. at Humphreys by the Bay. The people were ruder at that one. There was more pushing, no “excuse me,” and people trying to steal people’s seat spots. At least there were no personal dancing spaces at the Black Flag show. Etiquette becomes less of an issue in the pit; somebody’s always ready to cry “Fuck your dancing space!” and wreck you.
Greg Ginn was first on the stage. Singer Mike Vallely was the last. He started banging his head, and as the beat went from melodic to frenetic, so did the headbanging. The band started off with “Can’t Decide,” and played a lot of their classics: “Nervous Breakdown,” “Annihilate This Week” (per Setlist.fm, it was first time since 2014 for that one), “Gimmie, Gimmie, Gimmie,” “Loose Nut”, “Six Pack,” a nice long version of “Slip it In,” their MTV classic “TV Party,” and finally, “Louie Louie.” As they held down the rhythm section, drummer Isaias Gil and bass player Joseph Noval sounded more professional than punk. Singer Vallely has his own lyrical style, but still sounded like past singers Keith Morris on “Nervous Breakdown” and Henry Rollins on “Louie Louie.” I cannot discount Greg Ginn’s interwoven riffs layering through the many measured beats.
I went into the pit for the last song, “Louie Louie.” It may have been a tamer pit than the ones I remembered from the ‘80s, but I still got blasted in the ribs by some dude and knocked off my feet. As I flew toward the crowd, he caught me mid-air and placed me gently back on the floor. He was like 6 foot 4. In this pit, it was the girls who were being aggressive, throwing elbows and punches. A little skinny girl with grey tank top was trying to knock me around. First, she threw elbows at me and knocked my hat off. Then she came back around and socked me in my lip. I thought, I have been in a few pits in my life before this girl was born. She came at me again, but this time I was waiting. I elbowed her in her face, knocked her into the crowd, and hopefully knocked her the fuck out. That’s punk rock for you.
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