Teenage Alcoholics: Punk Rock in East Los Angeles
Source: www.musictap.net
Topic: Punk Rock
Sort Desciption: The first time I remember seeing the phrase “punk rock” was in a 1980 issue ...... knell for East Los Angeles punk rock. As with the punk scene as a whole, ...
Content Inside: Teenage Alcoholics: Punk Rock in East Los Angeles Dedicated to the memory of Jason “Boomer” Escovedo Prologue We get to the gig around 9:30 p.m. We had walked, a pack of 12 or 13 kids with spiked hair, faded denim jackets covered in a chaotic splash of color and band logos, and assorted cases of beer in tow, more than a mile through neighborhoods often hostile to people like us. We pay $3 just to stand in a backyard filled to capacity, get drunk and raise a little hell as our friends line up in varying band formations every half hour or so and tear through their sets, their efforts lit by a single lamp strategically placed on the makeshift stage at the back wall of the house. After a little searching through the yard, we find the other heads from the neighborhood, who had come to the gig in two carloads, in the far corner with a keg between them. “We” are collectively the punks from City Terrace, but we are by no means alone in the backyard. Kids from Montebello, Huntington Park, Alhambra, El Sereno, Monterey Park and other areas have also come out tonight to see the Stains, who are rumored to be making a very rare appearance. I make my way through the crowd, can of Bud in hand, place my very scrawny self squarely in front of the stage and begin heckling the members of Side Effects, who were friends from Whittier. “You guys are too stupid to play and your drummer is a gimp,” I shout at them through the din of tuning instruments. Behind me, another critic chimes in with “Go back to Whittier you has-been scumbags.” Their singer smiles. “Glad to see you guys, too,” he deadpans into the microphone. Their drummer four-clicks and, as the band begins their first song, the backyard erupts into the sea of ritualized violence that we call dancing. Many fall to the ground, but are quickly picked up by watchful friends and relatives. Somewhere in the middle of the set, I make my way back toward the keg, parched, sweaty and loving every minute ...
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