punks

Back at the tail end of the '70s, when I was playing punk rock indie records on the radio, one of my favorite bands was a hard core punk trio from the Vancouver area, D.O.A. They came down to play in San Francisco so frequently, that people came to regard them as a local band. I had them on my radio show as often as an local band, maybe more for their left-wing politics than for their music per se. And also because of what nice guys they were. They weren't one of those bands with a chip on its collective shoulder.

A month or so ago, rock journalist Steve Knopper called me to discuss how punk music pushed back against Nazis who tried infiltrating the early anarchistic punk music scene. Fascists in London, Los Angeles, San Francisco, New York seemed drawn to the scene's iconography, rowdiness and anti-establishment perspective. Soon after I went off to Thailand-- the Land of Smiles-- and forgot all about it.

I have a vague recollection that this happened. The first part of this video above was a TV show I apparently taped with KTVU icons Ann Fraser and Ross McGowan in the early 80s in San Francisco about the punk rock scene. Someone sent it to me Friday. (And, no, that was not John Amato shouting "Howie" when I came out on the set. This was decades before we ever met. Does sound like him though.) It looks like they put makeup on me. Eventually I stopped allowing that when I went on TV but this early in my show biz career.

Green Day at Gilman, 1992-- photo by Murray Bowles-by Denise SullivanIn 1988, the peace punks who congregated at 924 Gilman Street in Berkeley, California, had a choice to make: To meet encroaching skinheads with violence or to fight back with the tactics of non-violence.

When they were younger, music fans of a certain age had to choose-- Beatles or Stones. The next generation had a similar choice-- Pistols or Clash. I liked the Beatles-- a lot. I used to take acid when a new Beatles album came out so I could really get into it fully. But, like Trump, I was a Stones guy. By the time punk rock got going I was a dj on KSAN in San Francisco and KSJO in San Jose.

I hadn't been back in America very long-- having been living abroad for nearly 7 years-- when I ran into someone I had met years before when I booked a Doors concert at my school. It was Danny Fields, who had gone from being an A&R man at the Doors' label, Elektra, to working as a journalist and managing a new band. He wanted me to see the new band. I didn't want to. He insisted and insisted until I agreed.

This week, I had a call from Steve Knopper, a writer doing a story for Billboard, about how musicians may look at their responsibility to call attention to the political anomalies around Trump and Trumpism. I'll share that with you when it's published next week.

photo of Alice Bag and Frightwig by Eric Goodfieldby Denise SullivanThe rock 'n' roll choice for president is clear, according to the Artists and Cultural Leaders for Bernie Sanders.

In 1977 I wrote a story about Mink DeVille for Creem. It isn't easy to access online so I figured I'd post it here at DWT... no special reason, except so that more people should be able to acquaint themselves with this largely unknown American band. Enjoy:"MINK PIE, how's that!" challenged Willie, whose darkly silent, sinewy presence dominated the dimly-lit cold-water flat in Oakland. The band had been up speeding for four days; it was 5 a.m. and they wanted a change.Why not start with a new name?

Did you miss the BBC documentary about The Clash on New Year's Day? That's it above-- and worth an hour and fifteen minutes of your time. I remember how excited The Clash were that Julien Temple was filming them-- and I always wondered what happened to that footage. That's it-- almost 4 decades later. There are interviews and some decidedly mixed quality context bits, of course, and a somewhat interesting history of Covent Garden, but the greatest value here is the New Years Day 1977 concert The Clash did at The Roxy-- despite a seriously fucked-up sound system.