I Get Pulled Over So Much, I’m Not Even Here Yet

Comedian Chris Rock takes a selfie every time he gets pulled over by the cops.  Oh…if only I could go back in time and do the same.

breaux bridge

SHORT DOGS GROW: BREAUX BRIDGE, LOUISIANA

First time we got pulled over on tour was on our way to New Orleans. We had just crossed over into Louisiana with Tom at the wheel and I remember Tom saying “If we keep this pace up, we’ll be in New Orleans before it gets dark!”. Seconds later we were pulled over. The officer got Tom out of the van and into the squad car. We followed in the van to the station where Tom was locked in a cell. For speeding. We were driving the 64 Ford Econoline. To be fair, I can’t think we were going much over the speed limit, because that van, loaded with band and gear, couldn’t go much over the speed limit. The bail was something like $200. No way we had that on hand, so Greg had his mother wire the money.  After posting bail, Greg asked for a receipt. The officer wouldn’t give him one. Greg’s mom said she was going to call the Breaux Bridge, Louisiana station and bitch the officer out for busting broke poor kids. I think she was going to call the Mayor too.  Now we know where Greg got it from, although I highly doubt Silver ever bricked any ATMs.

thirdking

CAMELTOE: SAN FRANCISCO, CALIFORNIA

Catherine, guitar player in Cameltoe, had a sweet Dodge Swinger that we used in our video for song “Take a Wild Ride”. But at some point the Swinger got too expensive to repair (I think) and she had to sell it. After that she had some questionable cars. My favorite was a dark grey car that she called the Stealth Bomber. It was from Canada, procured by her husband from a family member or friend. The car couldn’t be registered in the U.S. without paying some crazy tax or fixing the emissions. Catherine took the license plate off and drove without registration or insurance. Might as well go all the way. For a while she flew under the radar- I don’t think she even got any parking tickets when parking illegally…..as there was no plate ( NO PARKING TICKETS IN SAN FRANCISCO!! Not likely to ever be replicated). One night on the way back to our studio after a gig, driving down 3rd Street , she got pulled over. She was panicking somewhat and Emile was telling her to stay calm- all they could do was tow the car. The officer looked in the car with his flashlight, saw me in the back with guitars and amps, and asked what the deal was with the musical equipment.

“We’re in a band” Catherine said. ‘We just played a gig at The Bottom of the Hill.”

The officer seemed excited. “You’re in a band?” he asked. “Do you know Metallica?”

Catherine hesitated only briefly. “Yes, we know Metallica.” And then handed him her license, and said something like she hadn’t had a chance to register the car yet.

The officer went back to his squad car and got on his radio. I heard him say into the radio “I just pulled over these girls who are in a band and they know Metallica!”

He came back a minute later and gave her the license back. “Say hi to Metallica for me” and let us go. No moving violation, no lack of insurance fix it ticket, no impound for an unregistered vehicle.

“Yep” Catherine said “The Stealth Bomber strikes again, flying under the radar of even the SFPD.”

Thank you, Metallica. Who we never have met.

denton_texas_water_tower600x350px

CAMELTOE: DALLAS, TEXAS

We played a gig in Dallas, and I told our drummer Joe at the start of the gig that I wasn’t gonna drink tonight because I’d be getting pulled over later. Joe wanted to know why I was getting pulled over. “This is Texas, Joe. That’s what they do here.”

After the gig we had to drive to Denton- an hour or so away, and where we had a place to stay. I was keeping a close eye on the speed and making sure I signaled every time I switched lanes. I told Joe to keep an eye out for the cops. He pretty much laughed at me, until…..

(Siren noise) I got pulled over. I asked the officer “What did I do?” Seriously, I was perplexed.

“You don’t have a light above your license plate. I don’t know what ya’ll do in California, but in Texas you have to have a light over your license plate.” Luckily he let me off with a warning.

Joe was shaking his head in disbelief. I said, “This is Texas, Joe. Don’t mess with Texas. ”

seattle_kerry_park

HELLFIRE CHOIR: SEATTLE, WASHINGTON

Eric and I flew up to Seattle after work for Friday night gig. We had a beer at SFO before getting on the plane. We picked up a rental car at SeaTac, and drove to the gig. Shelley and Michelle had driven up with the gear earlier. I had looked up the address of the club, a place we hadn’t played before. Eric and I seemed to be driving for a long time, but SeaTac is south of Seattle so I figured we’d have to go some distance. Finally we get to the club, and it’s a little bar out in the sticks. Not many people around. Eric called Shelley, and we figured out that the stick bar and the rock club had the same name. We were now about an hour away from where we needed to be. And we were only 30 mins from our set time.

I pulled out of the stick club parking lot. Eric had Shelley on the phone- she was navigating with him. People at the rock club were helping her with directions. The fans were in on the game. Minutes later, we get pulled over. I can hear Eric narrating the experience to Shelley and the fans. “Ok we’re heading south now on (some street). Ok, there’s some sirens behind us. Oh shit we’re being pulled over….”

The officer asked me if I’d been drinking. I looked at Eric and then back to him.  “I had a beer on the plane. But that was a little while ago.” Actually it was before the plane, it had to have been about 4 hours previous, but I started to panic because I wasn’t sure if that was enough time for the blood alcohol to clear. The officer had me get out of the car. I walked the line. I touched my nose. I was praying he wouldn’t ask me to do the alphabet backwards because I can barely do it the right way. Meanwhile Eric is still narrating to everyone at the club. “She’s walking….ok, yeah, she’s doing pretty well. Now she’s touching her nose with her ring finger…..” Finally the officer had me blow into a breathalyzer.  “She just blew…we’re waiting for the results………” The officer came back and said I blew under the limit so I could go. “She passed!! We’re free!!! (crowd roars)”. The officer said when I pulled out of the lot, my lights weren’t on, so he had to pull me over. I switched the lights on, and we (safely) hightailed it to the club. The club pushed the set times a little so we could play. Everyone in the club congratulated me on passing the test when I arrived.

I later learned that 90% of people driving without their lights on at night are intoxicated. Watch out for them.

 

steamboat springs

HELLFIRE CHOIR: STEAMBOAT SPRINGS, COLORADO

Driving from Colorado Springs to Steamboat Springs, Shelley was at the wheel when it started to snow. Of course I was freaking out, and luckily we got pulled over for SPEEDING.  After the cop gave us the ticket, Michelle took over.  A harrowing drive through the whited-out Rabbit Ear Pass ensued, but I was somewhat relaxed with Michelle behind the wheel. We made it into town and Michelle stopped at a stop sign. The car behind us couldn’t stop and plowed into us, bashing in the rear door.  No one was hurt. The next day we wheeled our rented gear back to the music shop from the rear parking lot so they wouldn’t see the gear had been in a car that had been in an accident.  It all seemed pretty funny until we took the rented van back to the airport rental place. The rental agents took a look and told us that we were the lucky ones- one of their rentals had driven off the mountain in the storm the day before and all four passengers had died.

monterey

COOKIE MONGOLOID: SAN FRANCISCO

Exited 280 onto Monterey, shortly thereafter the siren went off. I really had no idea what I’d done. It was probably around 2 in the morning and I was going home after a gig. The officer came up to the window.

“Coming home from a gig?” he asked.

“Yes sir” and a pause. “How did you know?”

“I looked in the back of your truck and saw your guitar in there.  Metal band?”

I laughed. “yeah, it’s a heavy metal tribute to Sesame Street.”

He said he thought metal when he saw the guitar case because I had “hit it a little hard coming off the freeway”. He told me to slow down a little, and let me off without a ticket.

I didn’t even get a chance to tell him that I know Metallica.

 

Guns N’ Salad: Detroit Rock City

Detroit to me is…….punk rock, Hell’s Angels, guns, and salad.

Brian, the bass player from Electric Love Muffin, reminded me recently on this blog of the crazy time we played together in Detroit. What follows may read as fiction, but most of this is actually true. Brian- feel free to correct and/or corroborate.

This was Short Dogs Grow’s first time in Detroit and we were booked to play the Graystone. Tom had booked the show, and in our tour phone book he listed the promoter as “Scary”, complete with quotation marks because we weren’t really sure if he went by “Scary” or if he had some foreign name that just sounded like “Scary.”

We were booked for the 4th of July, and “Scary”said we should come by early because he’d be barbecuing in the back . We didn’t eat meat at the time, but it never hurt to get to a club early to try to find a place to stay for the night.  “Scary” (also known as Cary) turned out to be a big guy somewhat like a typical Hell’s Angel.

Scary’s first words to us were, “I hope you’re not a bunch of California Faggot Vegetarians!” followed by laughter. We all squirmed and shuffled and looked at our Converse. Certainly we would need to defend our gay brethren, but I don’t know if I  was more nervous about the homophobia confrontation, or whether I would have to eat meat to keep this guy from kicking my ass. After an uncomfortable silence, Greg Foot smiled and gestured to all of us. “Yeah,” he said “we’re all  California Faggot Vegetarians.”  Scary laughed again and hit Greg on the back. “I knew you would be, so I made you guys a big tray of salad and vegetables.” And he pulled out a big meat pan full of salad and cut veggies and proceeded to grill our lunch.

There were a lot of young punk kids hanging out and he was feeding them too. I started to think that his nickname was just a tease, and that he was a just big ol’ teddy bear at heart. I didn’t hear anything homophobic or derogatory from him the rest of the time we were there.

electric love muffin

(Electric Love Muffin in Philadelphia)

The Love Muffins arrived later and we made friends pretty quickly. I was on some kind of hair-cutting jag (I think I was exploring being a stylist) so I offered to cut their hair. Having absolutely no training whatsoever except cutting my own hair (which looked pretty bad) only one of them was brave enough to take me up on it- Brian, who had short curly hair, so it was pretty easy to clip the ends of his curls. We went to a little upstairs room so he could sit down, and I could have some space to work. At some point while I was cutting, there was a loud bang and it startled me enough that I stabbed my hand with the scissors (luckily for Brian I didn’t stab him in the head). It didn’t bleed but I wondered if I would be the first SDG band member to go to the hospital for lockjaw.

A little while later  Greg ran into the room, pretty breathless. “Have you guys been here the whole time?” he asked. We said yes, and we were just about to come downstairs. “No way you guys missed the whole thing????!!!!!!!!!!!” And we were like What? What happened? Greg then recounted the incident:

“We were all hanging out drinking beer with the Detroit punk kids and Scary. All of a sudden we heard a loud bang and we’re like WTF???? I look at the front of the club and the doors are just gone. It turned out this guy drove his car into the front door of the club. When this happened, all of the punk kids dropped immediately to the ground. The only people left standing were Scary, me and Tom (I can’t remember if Greg mentioned where George was). Then Scary pulls a gun out of his waistband and starts firing at the guy. So Tom and I dropped to the ground. The guy put the car in reverse and pulled out.  I don’t think Scary got him. I can’t believe you guys were up here the whole time and missed it!!!!”

greystone

(I found this pic of the club on the web, I think it’s fairly soon after the incident)

Brian and I looked at each other, and I realized that I was busy stabbing myself while the punk kids were ducking and covering. We didn’t really believe Greg,(because…well…sometimes he does embellish) until we went downstairs a bit later (when the coast was clear) and saw the damage. I don’t remember any police coming. The punk kids told us that stuff like that happened all the time.  They told us that the club didn’t make any money, and that Scary was involved in some illegal activities which helped pay the club’s rent and feed all the kids. He was a punk rock Robin Hood apparently.

I was just wondering what happened to ol’ Scary so I googled him and found this on the web- an article from 2012. The year the article mentions is 1988, but we were there in 1987, so it’s possible that more than one thug drove into the front doors:

In 1986, after the closing of the all-ages punk venue the Hungry Brain in Delray, the Graystone soon filled the void as Detroit’s main destination for all-ages punk shows, this time under the management of Corey Rusk of Touch and Go records, then based in Dearborn. Rusk and company brought in such bands as the Descendents, the Meat Puppets and Big Black.

But after a local skinhead gang broke Rusk’s jaw, he handed the keys over to Cary “Scary” Safarian, a Bluto-like fireplug of a man who couldn’t be intimidated by local toughs.

But Safarian was also a pretty smart promoter, working out deals that brought in Die Kreuzen, MDC, DRI, the Crucifucks, Bad Brains, Corrosion of Conformity, Dr. No, the Cro-Mags and many more, for all-ages shows with low ticket prices. But even for Safarian, it was tough going. He had to guarantee vegan meals for fussy national punk acts while trying to keep the hall under control, protecting it from the cops, the neighbors, the patrons — and sometimes the bands. It was here that such “outside” punk acts as Boom & the Legion of Doom and Slaughterhouse played sets, the former throwing roadkill and animal parts out into the audience, once upsetting the straight-edge, vegetarian singer of Seven Seconds so much he allegedly burst into tears.

In the end, Safarian was on the way down, getting deeper into narcotics and illicit deals. By 1988, the club was falling apart and mismanaged. Not long after an angry drunk smashed the front doors of the hall in with his car, Safarian left the Graystone and it closed for good. In 1990, Safarian found himself facing 54 years in jail for robbing a pharmacy in rural Calhoun County. Safarian has been in jail since, for almost 22 years.

Though the memories live on, the hall itself is no more, the space having been taken over by a coin laundry several years ago — making it the best place to do laundry while soaking in punk rock history.

Poor Scary, if he’s still in jail -that’s 25 years for armed robbery. I don’t know the details of his case but most people get less time for killing someone.

Here’s a link to an interview of Scary. You can form your own opinion of the man:

 

 

 

Snakefinger and Chris Isaak

To this day, I wonder why my musical tastes took a left turn from bands like the Bay City Roller to art collectives like the Residents once puberty hit. Was it hormones? An allergy?  Or was there something genetic going on that was driving me to the music of Ralph Records, or Jad Fair or SPK?

snakefinger

My first boyfriend was a huge fan of Residents’ collaborator Snakefinger and took me to see him play at the Victoria Theater in. The opening band was a group of Rockabilly guys names Silvertone.  I was impressed with their lead singer’s silver guitar, it actually detracted from how cute he was.  We  quickly forgot about him when Snakefinger came on and played. I was only 15, but I’d never really heard anything like it. I picked up Chewing Hides the Sounds right after. Every time I pass by the Victoria Theater now (one of the few surviving things of the Mission district from my childhood), I think of Snakefinger.

Later on I found out that the singer of Silvertone went on to have a solo career under his real name, and he named his first album Silvertone.

 

Silvertonelp

Guess who? The lead singer of Silvertone…Chris Issak.

Fast Forward 30 years and I’m flying a lot for work, and I had a lot of upgrade points. But I could never use them because everyone else who travels has a lot of upgrade points. Eventually I just tried to upgrade every flight I ever took, and every once in a while I would get a hit.  Well I was flying to Burbank and I got called up to the desk for my upgrade. The gate attendant looked like she was going to pee her pants. “I’ve seated you next to him” she whispered to me as she handed me my upgraded ticket.  “What? Who?” I asked.  “Him!!!” she said slightly louder.  I had no idea what she was talking about and went to pee before they called boarding. When I got back they called first class, and I followed one other guy down the ramp.  It was a small plane, so there were only two first class seats, one behind the other, and followed by coach class of two side by side seats.  I had to wait for him to sit down before I could move pass to my seat.  As he buckled up I realized “Him” was Chris Isaak.  I wasn’t sitting next to him, just right behind him. The whole flight I was so tempted to poke my head around the seat and yell “HEY DUDE I SAW YOU PLAY 30 YEARS AGO IN SILVERTONE!!” , or “EXCUSE ME, AREN’T YOU THE SINGER FROM SILVERTONE??, or even “YO SUNSET HOMEBOY (he used to live in my neighborhood” But of course, I didn’t have the guts, and flew in silence, leaving the man in peace to learn his lines for the show he was probably taping that day in Burburk.

STING’s BASS

 

I was listening to a podcast interview of Flea yesterday and was amused by his opinion of the Police. He’d loved them when they first came out, but recently he revisited their music and felt like it hadn’t held up over time. They are the only band he’d loved “back in the day” that he can’t listen to now. He told a story of how he’d gone to see the Police in concert. He was able to get behind the stage to watch Stewart Copeland play drums and he saw that Stewart had written “Fuck Off You Cunt” across his toms. He said it was directed at Sting, who Stewart hated by that time. (listen to the interview here:

http://www.wtfpod.com/podcast/episodes/episode_656_-_robert_trujillo_flea_aziz_ansari

stewart copeland

Stewart Copeland circa 1983?

It’s kinda of a sad story because I can’t imagine being in a band with someone who you hate so much, you would write that on your drums. But the story also made me laugh because it reminded me of my only connection to Sting: STING’s BASS.

In 1988 we did a somewhat hectic SDG tour. I’d quickly booked us cross country to meet up with MDC in West Virginia to do a couple of weeks with them. MDC was able to get gigs in places where I’d tried repeatedly and had no luck- exotic places like Salt Lake City. If we would let MDC use our gear, they would let us open for them. It was a worthwhile deal for us. We also wanted to get a NYC show so our east coast label people could see us. Rough Trade NY were able to get us a gig at CBGB’s. The date they got was a bit rough with the schedule, but I made it work. We would have to leave immediately after our gig in New Orleans (always money maker for us) and deadhead to NYC. It would be rough, but it’s CBGB’s (!) and our NY could people see us.

Somewhere between the two cites (a big blur) we stopped and called our SF label. We were in the middle of being sued (also part of the hectic-ness) and needed to check in. Our label rep, Steve, asked Tom to look in our van, and see if my bass was in there. Tom yelled from the pay phone “Hey Mellie is your bass in the van? Some guy in New Orleans says he has it” Someone from New Orleans had called the label, and said he had my bass. He would send it postpaid to the label if I wanted. Panicked, we pulled everything out and sure enough, no bass. Steve said don’t worry about the bass, he’d sort it out; don’t worry about the lawsuit, we’d sort it out; don’t worry about the government, just get your asses to NYC. (thank you Steve and thank you nice bass-returning guy. He did send it back). I’d have to ask the other bands at CBGB’s if someone would lend me a bass. I didn’t think it would be a big deal.

bass 80's

The bass that got left behind……..photo by Methanie.

Turns out the east coast is not as mellow as the west coast. There were about 5 other bands on the bill. The first band was a country guy named Tim Lee. The other bands included Michael Stipe’s sister’s band, kind of a hippy thing. As I watched them load in I saw they had about 8 guitar cases. They had three bass players in the band and no guitars. For sure I thought they’d help out a fellow bassist. Everyone in that band said no. All the other bands on the bill said no. Tim Lee finally said yes. He really wanted to leave after his set (we were on last), but he stayed till 3am so I could have a bass to play. Thanks Tim.

After our set, everyone was gone but our label people and the club folks. We were packing up and the club manager came up to me with a guitar case. “Does this belong to you?” he asked. I knew it wasn’t ours but I said “Let’s take a look”. He opened the case and there was a bass inside. I don’t think it was anything fancy, but IT WAS A BASS. He knew right away it didn’t belong to me and we figured out from the stickers that it has to be Michael Stipes’ (ok,ok, one of his sister’s, but he probably paid for it). We were playing with her band in Boston the next day so I told the manager we could take it to them. He said “no way” He knew I didn’t have a bass, and being an east coast kinda guy, figured I was trying to pull a fast one.

The next day Greg and I went to a music rental place. We were playing with some of the same bands in Boston, and I didn’t think anyone was going to have a huge change of heart and let me borrow a bass. We walked in looking like the broke musicians we were, and asked about renting a bass. The guys told us the price (something like $50 a day which was huge to us but we had to do it). So Greg pulled out his credit card and said let’s do it. The guy asked me what kind of bass I wanted. Christ I didn’t care, just anything with four strings. When we looked dully back at him at the question, he tried a different strategy. “What kind of bass do you play?” Greg told him it was a 70’s P-Bass. He shuffled off to the back and came back with a vintage 60’s P-Bass. He opened the case with a flourish, and let us feast our eyes. I took a look and said “Don’t you have anything else?” It looked kinda fey to me. He freaked out and started yelling “This is a Vintage P-Bass. This is the best bass in all of NYC right now. STING just used it for a recording, and when he brought it back he offered me $$$$$$. STING WANTS THIS BASS BUT I WON’T SELL IT. Because it’s the best bass in the world”. Greg said “ok ok we’ll take it” more to shut the guy up then anything else.

For the next two days we referred to it as STING’s BASS. Since we had a huge deposit on it (on the credit card), we had to make sure it came back intact. I never let it out of my sight. When we got to the Ratt in Boston we saw Stipe’s sister and her bandmates in the parking lot. We asked them if they knew they left a bass in NYC. Their roadie (yes, they had a roadie that I’m sure Michael Stipe paid for) freaked out, went to check the gear and realized one was missing. I did tell him that we offered to bring it with us, but the club said no, since you guys weren’t cool with letting me borrow it. The roadie looked rather bummed, and then got in their van and spent the next 8 hours doing a round trip to NYC.  They had spare basses (which you know who probably paid for) so they didn’t need to borrow one, but Greg did say “We’d let you borrow ours, but STING lent it to Carmela and he’d be pissed if we let anyone else borrow it.” They thought we were full of shit at first but once they saw the bass, and how we kept calling it STING’s BASS, at some point I think we had them going.

I couldn’t watch their band. George had more of an open mind and tried to get me to give them a chance. He thought they were doing something interesting. But to me, the only thing worse than a hippy is a stingy hippy. I just googled Michael Stipes’s sister and her name is Lynda Stipe and her band was called Hetch Hetchy. They pretty much fell apart after that tour.

You can formulate your own opinion:

http://www.allmusic.com/artist/mn0000673641

Turned out that STING’s BASS was actually a pretty nice bass. If we hadn’t had such a huge deposit on it, I would have been tempted to keep it. When we brought it back, I apologized to the guy and said I really liked STING’s BASS. He got a kick out of our nickname and started to refer to it as STING’s BASS as well.

I was ok after that because our next gig was in West Virginia with MDC. We’d already told them on the phone what happened, and they said no problem, I could use Franko’s Rickenbacker. So I was Lemmy-like for two weeks. Didn’t sell me on Rickenbacker however. I was glad to get back to my P-Bass, which was there when I got home. (thank you again New Orleans guy).

mdc sacred hate 1988mdc sdg dayton 1988MDC

 

franko bass

That’s me playing Franko’s bass in Salt Lake City. You can barely see Franko at the bottom of pic. Thanks Franko..RIP.

Remembering The Sound Of Music And Punk’s Tenderloin Roots

This article, written by Mark Hedin, was originally published in Central City Extra’s October 2015 issue (pdf). You can find the newspaper distributed around area cafes, nonprofits, City Hall offices, SROs and other residences – and in the periodicals section on the fifth floor of the Main Library.

It’s been 40 years since punk rock first reared its snarling, safety-pinned head. Although San Francisco’s thriving punk scene doesn’t always get its due, the rebellious music and community flourished here, characterized in large part by bands such as the Avengers and Dead Kennedys, whose pointed social commentary and songs of protest and angst placed them along the trajectory of creative dissent that, as poet-about-town “Diamond” Dave Whitaker has often said, went from “the beatniks to the hippies to the punks.”

While the spotlight — and sometimes searchlight—focused on the “Fab Mab” Mabuhay Gardens and other North Beach clubs such as the On Broadway and, to a lesser extent, the Stone, down in the Tenderloin, the underground of the underground found itself a home. Anyone who was anybody could gig at the Mabuhay, but to play at Celso Ruperto’s Sound of Music club at 162 Turk St., you had to truly be a nobody.

Photo: Jeanne M. Hansen/Lise Stampfli

“The Sound of Music was a dump, the sound system sucked, but it was a club where about anyone could play and most people could get in free or cheap,” White Trash Debutante singer Ginger Coyote recalled. Coyote has remained active in the punk scene over decades now, leading her band and publishing Punk Globe magazine out of L.A..

Today, the site is as quiet as it was loud back then, with a retractable black metal security gate stretched across the front and inside, mattresses, a ladder and debris visible through the glass façade, a real estate agent’s sign stuck on the exterior.

Photo: Google

In September, a collective calling itself the Punk Rock Sewing Circle organized a series of events in San Francisco and Oakland celebrating 40 years of Bay Area punk. Among them were four walking tours, of the Tenderloin, SoMa, the Mission and North Beach. If you saw a group of about a dozen people standing outside 162 Turk on Sept. 24th, led by a fellow with a microphone and small speaker — not Del Seymour — that was it.

Other stops included the site of the Market Street Cinema, the Crazy Horse strip club next door to the Warfield, Oddfellows Hall and the 181 Club.

Sound of Music stalwarts Frightwig, Flipper, Toiling Midgets and Vktms were among the Punk Rock Renaissance acts appearing in concerts at 111 Minna and the Mission’s Verdi Club over the course of the week, and Sound of Music flyers were plentiful among the hundreds displayed at the various events.

Club owner Ruperto, usually known by his first name, took a cue from fellow Filipino Ness Aquino, the owner of the Mab, and began booking bands in late 1979 or early 1980 as an alternative to the drag shows he’d been hosting, said Ian Webster, who worked at both venues.

With the city bursting at the seams with misfits and outcasts, there were plenty of willing performers and before long, the Sound of Music was mostly a rock ’n’ roll club, providing a community for those kids.

“They really made it a place where we could go and be safe, because there was always shit going down, just like now,” said Paul Hood, who played there often in Toiling Midgets.

Slam dancing to the band Society Dog. (Photo: Bobby Castro)

“For me it was the antidote to the shit of the ’80s: typical high school, ruled by the wealthiest kids with nose jobs and BMWs. Once I found the weirdos who liked to dress up and be silly, I felt liberated,” said Michele, an exile from the Peninsula. “When I think back on it, we were given four more years to play and not have to grow up. “I have a terrible memory. But for sure that time was super-important to me. I grew up on the Peninsula with friends I had known since kindergarten. In high school they morphed into assholes. It felt oddly akin to the entitled gentrification that has been going on in S.F. now. I felt very disenfranchised and chased out of my own life by rich, self-centered, clueless kids who were out of control, yet in control. I found my heart, my music, my politics, my values and my best friends in the punk scene.”

Many punk bands were already too big for the Sound of Music when it opened its doors to the scene a few years after the first wave broke. So no one saw the touring bands from New York’s earliest days of punk there: The Ramones, Cramps, Patti Smith, Television, Blondie and the like, nor the English bands that followed — the Sex Pistols had played Winterland in January 1978, after all. And the Avengers and Nuns, locals who opened that show, had already dissipated before Sound of Music even got started.

But for newer local bands such as Faith No More, Flipper and Frightwig, who went on to make names for themselves in the ’80s, the Sound of Music was an important launching pad.

“There was a movement happening there at the time and it just grew and grew and by ’82, the Sound of Music was happening in a regular way,” recalled Hood, who worked as a bike messenger, along with most of his Toiling Midgets cohorts to support himself while frequently gigging there.

“They started to bring in bands that could really fill the place — Gun Club from L.A., for example. “Some of these memories are hazy, but we played there with Flipper a lot in ’80, ’81. We were always paired and put together. We would be considered one of the bigger bands because we could put more people in the club.”

Other frequently appearing acts, such as Translator and Romeo Void, Hood recalled, reflected a transition that began to take hold moving away from punk to edgy new wave and pop. If a concert fell through for some reason somewhere else, there was always the Sound of Music.

Coyote recalled: “When Agnostic Front was going to play the Mabuhay Gardens, a certain female who ran a distribution company used all her pull strings to get the show canceled. She accomplished in getting Ness to cancel the show. But it moved to the Sound of Music and was a sell-out show.”

Mia Simmans, who still performs around the city as Mama Mia and was back on stage with Frightwig at the Punk Rock Renaissance show at the Verdi Club, wrote of those early ’80s days: “Frightwig used to practice at Turk Street Studios, right across from the Sound of Music. One day I went into the club in the afternoon and asked Celso for a job. He looked me up and down and said I could start bartending that evening. I was 17.”

“I saw all of the bands of the era during my stint there — it was great fun, loud as sin and about as dirty. Bartending was easy, as all everyone ever wanted (or could afford) were the $1 cans of beer, with the occasional shot of nasty bourbon thrown in on special occasions. Everyone was broke, pissed off about everything and having the time of their lives. If I didn’t like a band, I would throw half-full beer cans at them from the bar.”

Flyers from the ’80s for Tenderloin shows. Adolf and the Gassers got some legal heat when aSecond Street camera store noticed their name.

“The Sound of Music was more democratic,” Webster, who performed there, booked bands and worked the door, recalled. Also, at a time when the Broadway clubs were being harassed by the administration of then-Mayor Dianne Feinstein, nobody in officialdom bothered much with the Sound of Music. In the 1979 mayoral election, of course, Dead Kennedys singer Jello Biafra had challenged Feinstein, who’d become mayor the year before when Dan White murdered Mayor George Moscone in his office, taking down Supervisor Harvey Milk as well.

Along with serious proposals such as banning cars downtown or requiring police to be elected from the precincts they served, Biafra vacuumed leaves in Feinstein’s Pacific Heights neighborhood to mock her publicity stunt of spending a couple of hours with a broom sweeping Tenderloin streets. Biafra came in third behind Feinstein and Quentin Kopp, with 6,591 votes in the general election. Which is not to say the club entirely escaped the attention of authorities.

Drummer Jane Weems recalled walking out of the bar one night and into the glare of police spotlights, shining on a man standing in front of the club with a needle in his arm, poised to inject. Instead of the suspect pleading with police to “Don’t shoot!” this time it was the cops shouting, “Don’t push that plunger!” But, Weems said, he did anyway.

“You saw fucked-up shit all over the place,” she said. “You were a young adult who could be up at night, who could go to shows, etcetera, and you could see the nightlife for the first time and it was crazy.”

“One afternoon, while I was setting up the bar,” Simmans recalled, “two police officers came in and asked me for my ID. I said I needed to go get my boss, and ran down the narrow stairs calling ‘Celso, you gotta come up here now!’ He met me halfway up the staircase and I told him the cops were here and that I was 17. He didn’t bat an eye, and told me very seriously to go downstairs and not come out until he came down to get me. I did as he asked, and, unfortunately, never bartended there again. The Sound of Music was not shut down as a result of my age, and Celso remained a gentleman and a friend.”

“Frightwig played our first show there and many times after. It was a great club that welcomed us in all of our freaky flavors, never asked for a demo, just embraced the entire scene and swallowed it whole!” Carmela Thompson, a former bike messenger who still performs around town in a number of bands when she’s not working as a genetic consultant, remembers how at her band Short Dogs Grow’s first-ever gig, at the Sound of Music, they only got to do about three songs before the police shut it down over underage kids in the bar. At their next gig, she found herself working the door, telling underage kids, “If the cops come, just go hide in the bathroom.” “It was pretty loose,” she said. Of the band, “I don’t think any of us were 21.”

Thompson and Webster both described Ruperto’s haplessness as a businessman. Thompson eventually would insist that there be a doorman hired and adequate supplies of beer for sale before her bands would agree to play. “He’d run out of beer. He’d go to the store and buy beer to sell at the club,” she said.

Hood remembered how Ruperto let teenage artist Kim Setzer do some “really raw” murals of boxers, and now-deceased Toiling Midgets drummer Tim Mooney about seeing a car burning in the back. He saw someone in there, but it was “too hot” to attempt a rescue.

Webster remembers doing battle with the TL’s dope dealers who wanted to ply their trade in the club’s bathrooms. Maybe that was why, as another patron recalled, the women’s room had no locks.

In the basement rooms across the street from the Sound of Music where bands would practice at Turk Street Studios, burglary was a constant problem. Eric Bradner, who led the TL walking tour during the Punk Rock Renaissance program, told of bands outside the Sound of Music being offered their own gear, freshly stolen from the studios across the street, at bargain prices.

Bass player Lizard Aseltine said, “I used to swamp the bar so I could see shows. I loved seeing Tragic Mulatto. I remember Gayle’s green, duct-tape bra. They were fantastic. I liked seeing Eric Rad’s band Sik Klick — an obvious reference and reverence to the Lewd’s Bob Clic. Another great memory was seeing the Contractions. I was a huge fan of Kathy Peck and I loved watching their drummer with her electric drill. There were many a great time.”

Bassist Peck went on to in 1988 cofound H.E.A.R. — Hearing and Education Awareness for Rockers, a nonprofit that battles hearing loss, especially in teens — after her own experiences with hearing loss and tinnitus. The Contractions appear on the only known record from the bar, 1983’s “SF Sound of Music Club Live, Vol. 1” which also included Repeat Offenders, ELF, Arkansaw Man, Boy Trouble, Defectors, Ibbillly Bibbilly, Dogtown, Katherine and Farmers. You can’t even find it on eBay.

Tragic Mulatto, Webster said, “was one of our go-to bands. There were only three of them. When there was a gap in the bookings — and there were many — I’d walk across the street to Turk Street Studios. And if the show was advertised in advance, they could draw a pretty good crowd.”

Eric Rad, whose band Housecoat Project was another mainstay of the scene, died of a heart attack onstage at the Mab. His wake was held at the Sound of Music. He is remembered for wearing long dresses to work in the copy shop in the lobby of the Mills Building, 220 Montgomery, long before Boy George took that style mainstream. Two of the incredible, industrial-looking guitars he designed and built from random metal and plastic parts, with innovative features, are now displayed at the Rock ’n’ Roll Hall of Fame in Cleveland, donated by Billy Gibbons of ZZ Top, who bought them.

The Sound of Music was hardly the only locus for punks in the Tenderloin and Civic Center, though. Out at the Civic Center, the Ramones played a free concert in August 1979. At the corner of Eddy and Taylor, the upstairs after-hours 181 Club hosted occasional shows in its bordello atmosphere, where patrons could bring in a bottle and pay $10 for a setup. And there were plenty of punks hanging out on Polk Street and sharing cheap flats. “I remember seeing Faith No More at the Sound of Music, and that it was small and grimy, and later going to 181 after shows to dance with the drag queens,” Michele said.

Images of burning police cars from the White Night riots of May 21, 1979, outside City Hall were featured on the cover of the Dead Kennedys’ first album, “Fresh Fruit for Rotting Vegetables” released later that year — rumor has it that the protest was somber and uneventful until some punks decided to start breaking City Hall windows and torching police cars. Ruperto died in Reno in 1990, reportedly of a heart attack.

According to Coyote, Ruperto, who dressed and lived like a pauper, left half a million in his bank account. Included in the Punk Rock Sewing Circle’s Renaissance week events was a tampon drive, organized with St. Anthony’s. A pair of mannequin legs with fishnet stockings was placed at venue doors, calling attention to the collection of sealed boxes of tampons and pads, or cash for a cause. More than 550 boxes were donated.

The Sound of Music hosted its last show in 1987, Webster, who worked there almost to the end, said. It’s currently vacant and “available,” according to signs posted on its windows. Upstairs is the Helen Hotel. Next door, as ever, is a vacant lot on one side and an auto shop on the other.

Most recently, it was a thrift shop. And across the street, bands still practice at Turk Street Studios, although these days it’s one of 600 spread across four states owned by a company that calls itself Franciscan Studios. The beat goes on.

San Francisco Politics: Jello Biafra and Sister Boom Boom

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In 1979 Jello Biafra ran for mayor of San Francisco. It was a dark time. Jonestown and Moscone and Milk’s assassination occurred about a year earlier. The election for mayor was bringing up a lot of bad memories. Everyone was affected in some way- had known someone who died in Guyana, was a friend of Milk, or like myself, went to school with Moscone’s daughters. Dan White’s trial had just happened and most people were upset with the lenient sentence.

My parents had a deep distrust of politicians, most likely stemming from Watergate. Upon reading about Jello my father said something like “He can’t be any worse than the people in there .”

I thought it was fantastic. It was so …………..unexpected. I was young, and had never heard of anyone that young or nutty running for office and dammit San Francisco could use some levity at the time. It must have resonated with some other people too because Jello came in fifth place (6591 votes) and you know there weren’t  6591 punk rockers in S.F. with their shit together enough to go voting.

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A few years later I was given an assignment for my civics class to volunteer for an election campaign and write a report about it.  Jello was still political and was organizing events like Rock Against Reagan, but unfortunately he wasn’t running for office at that time.

But there was someone else running: Sister Boom Boom, one of the Sisters of Perpetual Indulgence.

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The Sister were a group of gay activists (kindof) founded in 1979, around the time Jello was running for mayor. I would see them in the Castro- campy nuns. They got your attention. They raised awareness on queer issues like the fag-bashing that was going on in the Castro. They raised money for Cuban refugees, and organized the first AIDS fundraiser. They also brought some levity to the city. I remember a few Sisters on the corner of Castro and Market handing out pamphlets that said “Make Plants Wear Pants” lampooning ……who knows? The flyer didn’t say.

Ok, it wasn’t Jello Biafra, but a Sister of Perpetual Indulgence had to be pretty interesting.

The voter bulletin had an address for Sister Boom Boom’s campaign headquarters, but no phone number, so I figured I’d go there to volunteer. Luckily a classmate needed to do the same project and was game. We went to the “headquarters” together- a multi-unit apartment building, no names on the door. We hung outside for a bit, then noticed an open window on the ground floor with a curtain gently blowing in the breeze. We penned a note on a scrap of paper found on the street and pinned it to the window with one of our punk rock safety pins. The note read something like:

“HI! WE WANT TO VOLUNTEER FOR SISTER BOOM BOOM. PLEASE GIVE HER THIS NOTE. WE HAVE TO DO THIS FOR SCHOOL ASAP. HELP! HELP… WE DON’T WANT TO FAIL CIVICS. (plus phone numbers)”

To my complete surprise, Sister Boom Boom called the next day. He said his name was Jack and could use some help handing out flyers. We arranged to meet in the Castro. How cool, I thought, handing out flyers to all the interesting people in the Castro.

When we showed up I think he was a little surprised that we were straight white girls.(a little punk rock, meaning we wore black trench coats which made us look a bit like little old men)  He probably thought he was getting two frustrated queer youth, not a couple of Catholic girls. But he was pleased because he was going to capitalize on it.  He said he’d over campaigned the Castro, and wanted to hit more “straight areas”.  We were going to hand out flyers at Stonestown.

Ugh, this was the mall in the part of town that I lived, and where we went to high school. There would be no one interesting in Stonestown. I knew that already. But we did our duty and handed out flyers. Some people were amused but a lot were offended and would hand the flyers back. It wasn’t fun, but I sure learned about shock tactics and politics.

Afterwards Jack took us to lunch at the Old Spaghetti Factory on Castro Street. I can’t remember much about the conversation but he did mention he was an astrologist and he thought he should have run for School Board because he could really make a change there. We probably probably talked about how much school sucked and that we couldn’t wait to graduate so we could go see the Dead Kennedys at the Mab whenever we wanted.

I never talked to Sister Boom Boom or Jack again. I would occasionally see his astrology column in a paper –maybe the Chronicle or possible the SF Weekly. He retired from the Sisters about 4 years later and became a Muslim.

Sister Boom Boom got 23,124 votes for Supervisor and placed 8th in the election, which goes to show you the electoral power of the gay community. 8th wasn’t enough to serve. But Jack made his mark. The city passed a law the following year that said candidates have to run for election under their real names. To this day it’s known as the Sister Boom Boom law.

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Fundraising flyer for Sister Boom Boom…the broom spells out “Surrender Diane” referring to Diane Feinstein, the Mayor at the time (who Jello lost to.)

I heard they suck live!

Ever get that “Did I really do anything with my life?” feeling?
Making lists can help.

I made a somewhat incomplete list of all the Short Dogs Grow live shows I did. Afterwards I felt a little …nutso…….so I shared it with Tom Pitts, who seemed to understand. And then I thought, what the hell, might as well put it on the internet for the mattt dillioninsominacs. So, take a look…. find your first gig, find your band, or find the show of the night you lost your virginity! And then tell me the story of the gig, cause I don’t sleep well either.

These are just the Short Dogs shows. I’ll get to all the other bands later.

1985

Aug 8th The Reign of Lee Kwan, and Erik Meade at the Sound of Musicmorally bankrupt

Aug 24th Adolph and the Gasser, the Reign of Lee Kwan at Hotel Utah

Aug 30th Black Flag, SWA at the Farm

Sept 3rd Morally Bankrupt, Tales of Terror and Drunk Injuns at the VIS Lounge

Sept 24th– The Afflicted, Our Lady of Pain and Test Subjects at the VIS Lounge

Oct 5th Adolph and the Gassers at Hotel Utah

Oct 12th Three Mouse Guitars and House of Wheels at the On Broadway

Oct 25th Social Unrest, Faith No More, Clown Alley and Frontline at New Method Warehouse

Nov 7th Rhythm Pigs, Afflicted and Soul Asylum at the VIS Lounge

Nov 8th Rhythm Pigs, Blood Sweat and Steeltoes, Soul Asylum at New Method Warehouse

Nov 12th Korphu, Rhythm Pigs at the Stone

Nov 15th Noize Boys  and Jackals at the Mabuhay

Nov 30th Crash and Burn, The Rhythm Pigs and Faith No More at the VIS Lounge

Dec 8th SNFU, Rhythm Pigs, Clown Alley at New Method Warehouse

Dec 31st Adolph and the Gassers, the Barking Spiders at the Hotel Utah

1986

Jan 10th New Method Warehouse With Violent Coercion, Christ On Parade and Yochirst on paradeuth of Today

Jan 18th Hotcombs and Noise Boys at Hotel Utah

Jan 25th Helios Creed, Half Blind at Hotel Utah

Jan 31st Verbal Abuse at New Method

Feb 8th Rhythm Pigs and Blood Sweat and Steeltoes at Hotel Utah

Feb 22nd Crockett gig with Bad Habit and Space Kats

Feb 26th Touch Me Hooker and Noise Boys at VIS Lounge

tuch me hooker

March 16th Tragic Mulatto, Noise Boys and Sluglords at the Farm

April 10th Mabuhay with ?

April 15th GASM, E-13, Schrodinger’s Cat at On Broadway

April 17th Tragic Mulatto at Mabuhay

April 20th Crash and Burn and RKL at Club Foot

April 27th Social Unrest, Doggy Style, RKL, Christ On Parade, Toxic Reasons, Desecendents at the Farm

May 23rd Mabuhay with Noize Boys

May 30th Owen’s Pizza with Miserable Sex, Rabid Lassie and Neurosis

June 6th ASF, Half Blind and Forethought at Club Foot

June 21st Santa Barbara, Dan Sites Show- Beyond Possession, Rat Pack, Vengeance of Snoopy, Fatal Vision

bakersfield

June 22nd, Bakersfield, Dan Sites Show with Scared Cattle, Rat Pack, RKL and Beyond Possession

June 28th  El Paso,  Sounds Seas with Wheaties

June 29th El Paso, Sound Seas with Hernia Briefs and Descendents

July 1st Austin,  The Beach with Airhead

July 2nd Austin,  The Beach with 2 new wave bands

July 3rd Houston,  Party Owls, Bark Hard and The Descendents at Café Mode

July 4th New Orleans,  The Descendents and Life Sentence at Café Brazil

fake ad

July 6th Gulf Port, MS, Elijah’ backyard with Vomit Spots

July 7th  Jackson Mississippi at WC Dons

July 9th Macon, Georgia, House Party with Bullwinkle

July 18th Romeo, Michigan at the Barn with The Offenders (not the Texas band)

July 19th Chicago with Fudge Tunnel, Ozzfish Experience, Dead Steelmill, The Gruesomes

July 22nd Madison Wi, Club DeWash

July 24th Greenbay Wi, Lefties with Jamnation and Volume Unit

July 26th Des Moines, IA House Party at Beths with Sand in The Face (on acid)

July 27th Omaha,  the Ski Lodge with A Child’s Trust In God and Sand in The Face (no acid)

July 28th Lincoln, NE House party- Paul’s house

July 29th Denver Co, The Funhouse with the Leaving Trains and Psychodrama

Aug 3rd Club Foot with Forethought and Rhythm Pigs

Aug 22nd The Farm with Frightwig, Sister Double Happiness, Spot 1019 and Tunnel Creeps
frightwig farm

Aug 23rd The Farm with Descendents, Polkacide and Sea Hags

Oct 25th Club Foot With Victim’s Family and the Mudwimmin

Oct 26th Reno,  with Verbal Assault and Seven Yobs

Nov 9th  Reno, at Daughter Judy’s with the Yobs and Agent Orange

Dec 26th SF Music Works with The Mentors and Brazos Balladeers

SDG the Mentors

(Missing some of 1986)

1987

Missing some of 1987

Jan 10th Feederz, Mr. T Experience and The Undesirables at Gilman St.

Feb 28th Witnesses and Victims Family and the Sound of Music

March 15th SNFU, Honor Role, Forethought, Jello Biafra at Gilman St.  (Jail Jello Benefit)

March 28th Skin Yard, Cancer Garden at the Sound of Music

April 3rd Rabid Lassie at Gilman St.

April 18th Witnesses, Forethought and NOFX at The Sound of Music (our 1st record release party)

April 22nd D.O.A. Verbal Abuse, MDC at the Mabuhay

April 26th Portland, The Satyricon with Oily Bloodmen, Badlands and the Fugs

April 29th Vancouver B.C., at  Love Club with The Scramblers

May 1st Vancouver B.C., The Arts Club

May 2nd Matinee show at ?

May 2nd Vancouver B.C., The Arts Club with Death Sentence

May 3rd Victoria B.C.

May 4th Vancouver B,C, The Savoy with DC3

vancouver

May 5th Vancouver B.C. The Savoy with the Boilermakers

May 9th The Sound of Music with No Means No

May 10th Rough Trade In Store

May 15th L.A. The Anti Club with The Leaving Trains, Divine Weeks and Lexington Devils

May 16th Las Vegas at ?

May 17th St George Utah with Fuck Shit Piss, System Rejex and The Deviants at the Cotton Mill

May 21st Tucson Club Nino’s with Ghost of Elvis

May 23rd El Paso Sound Seas with Suicidal Tendencies, Nightmare and Petty Tyrant

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(Joe quit so we cancelled Lubbock and went to New Orleans)

June 4th House party in New Orleans- 1st show with George

June 5th New Orleans at VFW Hall with Acid Bath

June 6th Pensacola with Gruel

June 11th Gainesville FL with Psychic Violence

June 12th Miami, FL at Banal with The Roosters

June 13th Gainesville, Fl with Murphy’s Law, Cindy Brady’s Lisp and Mutley Chix

June 14th Daytona Beach at Penrod’s with Rollins Band, Descendents, Doughboys and MIA

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June 16th Birmingham, AL

June 17th Atlanta, GA Metroplex w/ Electric Love Muffin

June 19th Raleigh, NC  The Fallout Shelter w/ DT and The Shakes

June 23rd Roanoke

June 25th New Jersey The Dirt Club

June 26th New Jersey JP Trolleys with Bedlam

June 27th Albany, NY with Soulside and Life Sentence

June 28th Washington D.C. The Hung Jury with Ignition

July 3rd Minneapolis 7th St. Entry with The Magnolias and Blind Lemon Pederson

July 4th Detroit

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July 5th, Chicago Medusa’s with Lost Cause, the Descendents and MIA

July 9th Des Moines

July 10th Lawrence KS The Outhouse

July 17th Chatterbox

July 18th Gilman St. with Half Life, Terminal Choice, FBI and Shattered Youth

July 29th Vancouver

July 30th The Luv Affair with Death Sentence and Gray Matter Bent

July 31st Vancouver

Aug 1 Vancouver

Aug 2 Victoria

Aug 4th Vancouver The Savoy with NG3

Sept 5th The Farm with Corrosion of Conformity, Capital Punishment, Frontline, Sacrilege

Oct 9th Gilman St. with Chrimpshrine, She Devils and Social Club

Nov 27th Mabuhay with The Brigade and Hell’s Kitchen

Dec 11th Chatterbox with Lazy Cowgirls and Crawlspace

Missing rest of 1987

1988

Jan 24th Music Works with Bad Religion and Tunnel Creeps

bad religion

Jan 30th Music Works with Witnessess and Watchmen

Feb 13th Kennel Club with Ophelias and Opal

March 4th Firehouse with Frightwig

April 6th  The Music Works with The Witnesses, MDC and Hellhound

April 28th Nightbreak with Osgood Slaughter and Pappa Wheelie

May 4th Berkeley Square with Mr. T Experience

May 16th IBeam with Soul Asylum

soul asylum

May 20th Covered Wagon with Scapegoat Lemonade and Noise Boys

May 28th L.A.,  Anti Club with Lazy Cowgirls

May 30th El Paso,  Mesa Inn

June 2nd New Orleans, Paradise Club

June 4th New York, CBGB’s with Tim Lee and Love Shack, Salem 66, Hetch Hetchy and Downey Mildew

June 5th Boston, The Ratt with Hetch Hetchy

June 7th Morgantown West Virginia, The Underground Railroad with MDC

June 8th Detroit, Blondies with MDC

June 9th Kent, Ohio, JB’s Lounge with MDC

June 10th Dayton, Ohio, The Wildside with MDC

June 11th Cincinnati, Ohio Bogarts with MDC

June 12th Chicago The Iron Rail with MDC

June 14th Madison WI The Co-op with MDC

June 15th Milwaukee the Odd Rock Café with MDC

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June 16th St. Louis MO Bernard Pub with Ultraman and MDC

June 17th Lawrence Kansas The Outhouse with MDC

June 18th Denver with MDC

June 19th Salt Lake City with MDC

July 2nd The Chatterbox with Johnny’s Problem

July 7th Portland

July 9th Tacoma Washington, Community World Theater with Dayglo Abortions, Hester Pryne, The Subverts, Abolishment, The Conditions, Frontline

July 10th Vancouver Club Soda with the Groovaholics

July 12th Vancouver at the Waterfront Caberet

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July 13th Seattle The Vogue with the F-Holes

July 15th Spokane

July 25th Chatterbox with the Phantom Creeps

July 27th Berkeley Square with the Leaving Trains

Aug 20th Chatterbox with Lazy Cowgirls

Aug 30th with Screaming Trees at ?

Sept 3rd Covered Wagon with Doughboys and Big Drill Car

Sept 13th Kennel Club with Screaming Trees

Sept 30th Nightbreak with Das Damen

(we toured Canada in Oct)

Oct Van

Oct 20th Calgary at The National Hotel

Oct Winnepeg

Oct Toronto

Dec 10th Chatterbox with Holly Rock

Dec 31st Chatterbox

1989

Jan 2nd IBeam with Catheads

Feb 4th Chatterbox

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Feb 7th Kennel Club with Sonic Brain Jam

Feb 18th  Hey Juan’s, Chico

Feb 24th Gilman St with Sweet Baby Jesus

Feb 25th Pleasanton, Veteran’s Hall with Field Trip

March 9th Covered Wagon with The Fluid, The Hidden and Necromancy

March 18th El Rio

March 24th Chatterbox with Jackson Saints

March 28th Santa Fe

March 30th Fort Worth

April 1st Des Moines

April 2nd Lawrence Kansas

April 3rd Kansas City, MO

April 5th Omaha

April 6th  Iowa City Gabe’s Oasis with Field Trip

April 7th  Columbus, MO

April 8th  Chicago

April 11th St Louis at Furst Rock with Field Trip

April 13th Minneapolis 7th St. Entry with Field Trip

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April 21st Nightbreak

April 23rd Covered Wagon with Field Trip

June 9th Seattle Squid Row

June 10th Victoria

June 11th Vancouver Club Soda

June 13th Portland- Satricon

June 19th – Nightbreak with Electric Love Muffin

July 7th Chatterbox with Go Dog Go

Aug 7th IBeam with Celebrity Skin

1990

July 20th IBeam reunion show with Spot 1019 and Papa Wheeliereunion spot

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This Is What You Want….This Is What You Get.

sex pistols

I recently did an online survey “Which 70’s punk band should you be in?” It turns out that I should be in the Sex Pistols. Hmm…they did lose one bass player to murder/suicide, but they brought the original one back for their reunion. So I don’t think there will be any auditions anytime soon.

PiL

I missed the Pistols at Winterland (I was too young to go, but I did see Public Image Ltd live on their first U.S. tour in 1980 at the South of Market Cultural Center. The first band on the bill was Toiling Midgets. The curtain goes up, and on stage playing bass I recognize  “that guy who goes to University High School and rides the 24 Divisadero bus” I had never talked to him on our mutual bus route (I was too shy).  I was shocked to see a fellow high school student playing in a band in front of a big crowd…opening for Johnny Rotten. It gave me faith that my secret fantasy (to be in a band) could someday come true.

Flipper also played that show and were the best worst band I’d ever seen, albeit completely inspiring . They sounded terrible, reinforcing the punk rock concept that anyone could start a band. But there was, and still is, only one Flipper.

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In the book Gimme Something Better, Jello Biafra says this show was “his favorite show of all time. I commend Johnny Rotten for refusing to play for Bill Graham. Which meant it was a poorly run Paul Rat show which was way oversold.” (check out more on http://www.gimmesomethingbetter.com) It was my first, of many more to come, poorly run Paul Rat shows.

PIL SOM

I also met my first boyfriend while waiting in line to get in. We’re in the above picture, in front of the people with the white shirts on. Oh, yeah, PiL was pretty good too.

PiL Galleria

I saw PiL again a couple of years later at the Galleria Gift Center.  The stage was in the middle of an open rotunda, so you could take the elevator upstairs and look down upon the band. Some idiots had gone up a few flights and were leaning over the rail and pouring beer on the musicians.  John Lydon (he’d gone back to Lydon at this point as he was in a legal dispute with McClaren over the name Johnny Rotten) was obviously annoyed (his hair was spiky green if I remember right) and people were handing him their hats to wear for protection. He would take the hat, flip it over, look at the label, and then shake his head and give the hat back to the person. I was wearing a hat that had belonged to my grandfather.  While I was happy for the beer protection, I thought John needed it more than me, so I handed it to him.  He flipped it over and looked at the label.  He smiled at me and put the hat on. For the rest of the show he wore the hat. I had another one of my grandpa’s hats at home, so I was willing to lose this one.  But, at the end of the show, John Lydon walked over, tipped the hat and handed it back to me.  I still have the hat and the label reads Lock and Co. Hatters, London. I lost my grandpa’s other hat, so I’m so glad that I still have this one. Of course the real value comes from it belonging to my grandpa, but it’s nice to think that it protected Johnny too.

PiL fort mason

The next time I saw PiL was in 1984 at Fort Mason Center, Pier 2. It was jammed packed, and people were pushing to get to the stage and moshing, which didn’t really fit at a PiL show. I was proudly wearing my creepers. You can probably get creepers at Target now, but back then they were a sought after, expensive commodity. You could only get them in England, so people would give money to friends who were travelling overseas to bring some back.  I was lucky in that my boyfriend’s sister worked at one of the first shops to import creepers from Doc Marten in London, and she got me a pair wholesale. Well in the crush of the crowd, one of my creepers came off and I couldn’t find it. I spent the rest of the show with one shoe, dismayed.  At the end of the gig, I stared scouting around for my shoe, and when I got close to the stage a punk rock chick was waving my shoe yelling “WHO LOST THEIR CREEPER?? SOMEONE IS GONNA BE REALLY BUMMED THAT THEY LOST THEIR CREEPER!!!” I hopped up to her and showed my shoe-less foot, and she handed me my shoe. “I knew you’d be looking, ” she said, “no one would leave without it.” I thanked her. She knew how hard it was for me to get those shoes; it was like I had fallen down in the pit, and she picked me back up.

creeper

According to a website that lists all of PiL’s shows, they evidenly played the Stone, the Warfield and the Civic Auditorium in the years after this, but I must have been busy touring and eschewing large concerts to attend any.

I finally saw the Sex Pistols at the Warfield in 2003. My brother bought me a ticket ( I was over my fear of larger shows, but too still cheap to buy tickets to them). My expectations were low, but to be honest, I was blown away by Lydon. He was a pure entertainer, cleverly manipulating me and the crowd into having a great time.

sex pistols warfield

I did go see PiL again in 2010 at the Regency. Gone are my high fashion days of hats and creepers. My friend Paul and I stood in the back in comfortable shoes, and I have to say that John Lydon/Rotten still delivers.

lock hatters

 

924 Gilman Street, or just “Gilman” to me

When I think of Gilman Street what comes to mind are flying dead animals, doing stretches with Mr. Chi Pig, and the visual of Boom King running around with a large garbage can on his head, singing his heart out, pants falling down around his ankles.

Was all of that Tim Yohannan’s intention when he planned to start a club?

not so quiet
Tim Yo was a bit of an institution, having compiled Not So Quiet On The Western Front (one of my fave high school comps) and writing and editing Maximum Rock N Roll fanzine. In high school I stayed up to the wee hours to listen to Tim and the MRR radio on KPFA, but I think I first met him was when he interviewed Short Dogs on same show. Kent Jolly hooked us up with an interview- super helpful for an unknown, unsigned band about to go on a full U.S. tour. When I got back I would often see Tim at shows, holding a tall can of Bud, and smoking a cigarette. He always had a smile. Short Dogs had a song titled “Don Juan” that was really short, maybe 60 seconds tops. Tom changed the lyrics from “Don Juan” to “Tim Yo” and serenaded him at our first appearance at Gilman Street. Tim laughed so loud I could hear him above the P.A.
We were actually involved in a tiny bit of the early Gilman planning sessions. I think the initial idea was kept on the down low as they looked for a space – they wanted it to be in S.F. but finding a location that would tolerate noise and people hanging out was proving to be difficult. SF was also expensive. When they were fairly certain that they’d locked down the space at 924 Gilman, they started having small meetings, asking bands and fans’ opinions of their “ideal gig space”. Being budding alcoholics, we told Tim there had to be alcohol at gigs. But we also wanted all ages to be able to attend. Tim liked his Bud too, but in the end getting approval for minors and alcohol proved too difficult. The kids are alright. He invited everyone to help out, and most pitched in a hand to build the space. I volunteered to pick up the drywall. When I got to the yard, I realized it was going to take about 50 van trips to move it all. I loaded as much as I could, but they had to arrange for a semi to take the rest. Janis and Erik put in some of the electrical stuff, and helped build out the toilets. There were some skilled people who were able to tell the unskilled what to do. The  work got done.
Tim wanted Gilman to be an event space that people would just go to automatically, no matter who was playing. He didn’t want any advertising, or for bands to tell friends they were playing. Another thing Tim wanted was an arbitrary lineup, i.e. the bands would play in a random order.
Looking back now I understand that Tim saw this as an experiment- how long would people come to a space without knowing who the bands were, or what order, or if there would even be music at all? Would people stay and give new bands a chance, and learn something? And it would have been a great experience. But for the bands, this was our time, and we couldn’t take the risk of being a social experiment. We had to go on tour, and it was really rough out there. So there was advertising, and headliners. And like every good thing, people took the club for granted.
One thing that was odd for an anti-elitist like Tim was that one had to become a member of the club in order to go in. It cost $5 for a lifetime membership. I think it had something to do with codes, rather than exclusivity.
We played the first month it opened. Years later, I couldn’t tell you how many times we played there, but recently my brother gave me a book called “924 Gilman” which includes the history of Gilman Street up to 2004. There are first hand accounts from Tim, Martin Sprouse and other people involved of how the project got started. My memory is subject to flights of fantasy; luckily someone had the vision to try to document the history from several sources.

According to the book our first Gilman show was in 1987, on Jan 10th. In the back of the book there is a list of all the gigs and lineups- that really helps jar the gray cells. That date reads Short Dogs Grow, Feederz, Mr. T Experience and Undesirables. I think Feederz headlined. I’m pretty sure it wasn’t the Gilman gig where they brought a bunch of dead animals from the pound and threw them out in the crowd. But in my mind that’s what I see when I think of this gig-flying stiff dogs. I heard someone say one animal had a collar on with the owner’s phone # and a punk called and told them what was happening. Would someone actually do that? Was there actually a pay phone at Gilman?  There were a lot of animal rights activists/vegans in the crowd who were really offended and the Feederz were big on offense. But…don’t believe everything you hear…..or read…or even witness. Were they real dogs?

shortdogs1 gilmangilman jello ben

SDG-Gilman March 15th, 1987

Book says the next gig we played was on March 15th 1987, the Jail Jello? No Way! benefit (officially called No More Censorship). Jello was being sued for the HR Gieger cover of Frankenchrist. Luckily Jello didn’t become Lenny Bruce, obsessed with the trial, ruining his career. Book says the lineup was SNFU, Short Dogs Grow, Forethought, Honor Role, Corrosion of Conformity, and Social Unrest. According to my flyer Corrosion of Conformity didn’t actually play (didn’t I say don’t believe everything you read?). In my mind Green Day filled in however Martin Sprouse pointed out that was too early for Green Day (although Wikipedia says they formed in 1987). Maybe it was the Lookouts? They were very young kids.
Apparently the next gig was April 3rd, 1987 with Rabid Lassie. Ah…. Rabid Lassie, and their hit song “Anal Thermometer”. I loved those guys. Next gig- July 18th with Half Life, Terminal Choice, FBI and Shattered Youth. No recollection of that night (no animals being launched I suppose), which is too bad as that was the last time we played there.

crimpshrine2 gilman

Our next gig was supposed to be Oct 9th, but we cancelled the show because our van broke down, or maybe it was the time when someone smashed the windshield and stole the two front seats (we deserved that for parking it in Hunter’s Point overnight). I’m not sure what happened when Greg called to cancel; he might have joked that we were cancelling because we were going to see Motley Crue and Poisin the next day at the Oakland Colisuem. But they thought we cancelled TO GO SEE Motley Crue and put a note on the door for the show saying something like “Short Dogs Grow cancelled tonight because they wanted to see Motley Crue”.
We then found out that we were now banned from playing Gilman Street for this discretion. We were invited to the next members’ meeting to address our banning. We elected Greg to defend us. Greg was the best choice, because 1) Everyone likes Greg, even when he’s being a jackass, 2) He was the only one in the band who could articulate a complete thought and 3) He was still involved with Mind Matter, who they respected. At our next practice Greg gave us the news that we were still banned. He said they actually wanted to forgive us, but they posed a hypothetical -“Would you have cancelled if it had been Soul Asylum on the bill” Greg honestly said “No.” As a reward for his honesty, we sailed across the Rubicon and out of the hearts of Gilman. (I found a flyer that we played there after that, but I don’t know if it was a joke, or if we actually snuck in and played. It’s listed in the book, but again I have no recollection of it.)

sweetbaby-gilman
It certainly took the wind out of Gilman’s sails for me. I still went there to see some favorite bands, but it didn’t belong to me anymore. Then one night when I walked in, saw lots of people riding around on big wheels, turned around, and went back to San Francisco.
I didn’t go back for a couple years.  Jessie’s boyfriend was playing there and she wanted be supportive. I’m sure I couldn’t figure out what to do without her for one night. I still had my membership card in my wallet. While I hadn’t been following any of the Gilman drama, I knew Tim had passed the lease onto a collective of music fans. I wasn’t sure if MMR was still footing the bills or if the collective had to be self-supporting. We showed our membership cards to the guy at the door and he said they were no good- we had to buy new ones that were only good for a year. When we started to explain to him the meaning of “lifetime membership”, the guy yelled in our faces “I’M SO SICK OF YOU OLD TIMERS COMING HERE AND SHOWING THOSE OLD CARDS. IT’S A DIFFERENT CLUB WITH DIFFERENT RULES!!”
I was mortified. Old Timer?? I was only 25. Did I really look that old ??? Jessie just got right back into this face and jerked her thumb at me. “She hauled the dry wall to build this club. Why don’t you have a little respect?” I grabbed her arm and went back to the band van. Eventually we went in, the band having smoothed things over on both sides, but I didn’t go back for a long time. When I did finally go, it was to see the Bar Feeders. This time I knew not to take my card. The membership fee was voluntary and I happily paid it. I paid it for my friend who came with me too. I knew I was old. We were at least 10 years older than the average person in the club. My Gilman era was truly over.
But of course, I did play more time. My band Psychology of Genocide was asked to play a Gilman benefit for a battered woman’s shelter in Berkeley.  I mean, how much of an asshole could I be to say no to that? So we agreed to play, and the people putting it on made some pretty cool flyers. About a week before the gig, I joked to our singer Boom “I was banned from Gilman Street in the 80’s, so they might not let me in. James may have to play bass. “ Boom then told me that he too had been banned from Gilman, along with our guitar player Mike. They were in the same band at the time- The Idiots.  Boom had said something about gay people on stage, and the folks at Gilman took offense. Boom told them “I can make jokes about gay people because I’m gay myself.” But that didn’t appease them and they banned his and Mike Fuentes’ gay asses from playing there again.
3/5’s of the band having been banned for the past transgressions of listening to hair-metal and pretending to be gay, Boom suggested that the whole band play the show with paper bags over our heads. We would probably have been banned for impersonating the fabulous SF rock band The Paper Bags. Unfortunately it didn’t matter if we were recognized or not. Only about 5 people showed up for the gig. A benefit for a needy cause in the most socialist city in the United States and no one shows. You could have swung a dead cat in there without hitting one leftist-leaning liberal young punk idealist.

pOG gilmanpog gilman bmc

return of the banned- Boom, Carmela and Mike back onstage at Gilman, 2011

Children By the Million Sing for Alex Chilton

Let it Be

One of my all time favorite records is the Replacement’s Let It Be. I wore the grooves out of my scatched up copy in my tiny basement in-law apartment of my grandmother’s house. For as much as I liked the band, I never really got to see them live, just one song at the Shoreline Theater. They opened for Tom Petty, and played at the ungodly hour of 8pm- way too early for and self-respecting hipsters to make the scene.  We missed most of their set, catching only “I’ll Be You” while they rocked about as tiny ants on the stage from our vantage point on the lawn.

The-Replacements-Pleased-to-Meet-Me-Front

I was given a cassette tape of Pleased to Meet Me, and loved the song Alex Chilton so much, that I would listen to it, flip the tape over and listen to Skyway and keep repeating until I finally broke the tape. I can’t tell you any other songs on the album because those were the only two I ever heard from it.

As much as I liked the song, I never went any further into an investigation of Alex Chilton. A friend at work raved about him- told me he  was a brilliant songwriter, but had eschewed rock and roll and fame, and now worked as a dishwasher in New Orleans. I thought that was interesting and promptly forgot about him.

One day I was talking about food with my friend Barry, and he mentioned he was going to New Orleans. He  had a plan in place for each meal while he was there. He said it would be a challenge to eat that much food- breakfast, lunch and dinner at well known restaurants, but he’d made the reservations and was going to go for it. Was I up for it???  Do you even have to ask? I once peeled and ate 20lbs of crawfish at an “all you can eat” crawfish boil in New Orleans. When I told the bartendar I was from San Francisco, he said I did a good job, for a tourist of course.

Barry also was planning to see his  good friend Alex Chilton, who would be playing his annual New Year’s Eve gig, and go to a football game that takes place on New Years Day.  “Oh, the dishwasher!” I thought. That would be interesting. And I could see my cousin, who now lives in New Orleans. We are each half Scottish, and Hogmanay is big with the Scots, so I’d go first footin’ with him.

So I wound up meeting Alex very briefly on the trip. We visited his house on New Year’s Eve day to say hello and hang for a little bit, as it would be too busy to chat at the gig. He lived in a typical New Orleans house, small but efficient, and had loads of guitars lying about. I looked around while he and Barry caught up. I remmeber him being quiet but humorous. He’d had a good year, money wise, as That 70’s Show was using one of his songs as their theme song. He was getting royalties. He wasn’t washing dishes. I don’t know if that was actually true ( I certainly didn’t have the balls to ask him), but he seemed to live a comfortable, simple lifestyle. This was pre-Katrina but you could still have a nice quality of life in New Orleans without making a ton of money. We left early so he could get a nap before his gig. I was impressed that he could sleep before he played. It was his ritual.

We had an awesome time in N.O. and Alex’s gig was great, but I did have hard time holding up my end of the bargain as far as food went. “Breakfast, lunch and dinner!” Barry would chant each day. But after 3 days I groaned “Breakfast and dinner! Breakfast and Dinner” !!! I hadn’t trained for this, and I had to beg off of a couple of lunches to give myself a rest. Barry eventually forgave me.

Over the many years of our friendship, I would often consult Barry’s travel plans. He travels A LOT- always going to SXSW, New Music Seminar, Giants Spring Training, not to mention lots of various gigs like Coachella, Lolapalooza, and events like Sundance. Then he said he was branching out and going to Europe. We compared calendars, and saw we’d overlap for a week in Europe for our planned vacations. He was going to see Alex play some gigs in England. Alex had a gig in Italy while I would be there, so we planned to meet in Milan.

I flew to Milan, and of course was a little delayed. I texted Barry upon landing and he told me to come to the hotel NOW. We could get a ride on the tour bus to the gig. It took me a while to get through customs, and the texts from Barry started to get a little frantic. The gig was at a stadium on the edge of Milan, and we didn’t want to miss it. The cab driver let me off at the hotel and I saw Barry pacing in front of the tour bus. I ran across the piazza yelling “Barry, Barry , Here I am!!!”. He grabbed my bag and tossed it on the bus. As soon as I boarded, the driver shut the door and sped off. I looked around the bus and it was packed with nicely dressed people in evening gowns and tuxedoes, all starting at me with curiosity. Huh? I was underdressed in comfy jeans and a tee- my crossing-the- Atlantic flight gear. I mentioned this to Barry, and he said “Oh that’s just the London Symphony Orchestra”.

What? It turns out that the gig was a tribute to Sergeant Pepper’s Lonely Heartsclub Band, and the Symphony would be playing the music. Each song would be sung by a different performer- all of them stars in their own way. Barry had managed to hold up the tour bus by telling the driver that I was someone important flying in from the states. So that explained the odd looks as they tried to figure out which famous rock star I was. Ha ha.

We got to the gig and went backstage to look for Alex. It was a little honeycomb and we peeked into various rooms before we found him. I caught a glimpse of Marianne Faithful warming up. We chatted with Alex for a minute and then left to give him a chance to prepare in private. As we walked over to the backstage bar, we ran into Peter Murphy. “Peter!” Barry exclaimed, “Have you met Carmela? She just flew in from San Francisco!” Peter Murphy smiled and shook my hand. He was being polite, but I’m sure was wondering “who the hell are you?” It was fabulous, Barry did this with everyone. I got to shake Marianne’s hand, and then she grabbed my arm and muttered “the horrors, the horrors”. Turns out she has terrible stage fright and has to be dragged to the stage to preform.

alex chilton milan

The show was awesome. Besides Alex, Marianne and Peter Murphy, Robyn Hitchcock and the Residents played. There were some other famous people performing (Badly Drawn Boy and Beth Orton) that I didn’t really know. After the set we were able to take the tour bus back to the hotel. I sat next to a guy on the bus and introduced myself. He said he lived in Berkeley and we chatted for a minute before he told me that he was one of the Residents. OMG! I was a big fan, but obviously couldn’t recognize anyone from the band. I mentioned this and he said it was great being a Resident because you could be incognito. He introduced me to a couple of the other Residents. I told then how I used to watch the garage door of Subterranen records as I painted apartments across the street with my dad. I wanted to catch a glimpse of a Resident but it was like Willy Wonka’s Chocolate Factory.  They agreed that “no one every goes in, and nobody ever goes out.”  Alex got on the bus and sat behind me. He leaned over and asked me my birthday. A couple of minutes later he told me I was the King of Diamonds. I said “It’s good to be king!” He replied “It’s lonely at the top”. He then asked the young guy next to him what his birthday was, and then told him what playing card he was, and they wound up talking all night.

Barry told me that Alex had a system where he calculated which card of the deck you were- by adding up the numbers of your birthday, and probably some other information. The card told him a lot about you- some cards were good, some neutral, some bad. He based a lot on the cards. I don’t think the King of Diamonds was that great of a card but he was still very nice to me. The guy next to him must have been a good card because Alex spoke with him the rest of the evening. I guess the system worked. He probably had a lot of crazy fans, and it was a way to screen people that somehow worked for him.

We wound up going out to dinner with some of the Lonely Hearts. I sat at the table with Robyn Hitchcock and his wife. Peter Murphy was also there. We went to a restaurant that opened up just for us, as it was quite late. I was jet lagged but managed to stay awake, texting my roommate back home “I’m eating dinner with Peter Murphy!!!! I love Italy!” It was surreal to say the least. I was a bit intimidated. Everyone was very nice and were asking each other about their upcoming touring and recording plans. I was a bit out of the element. My tour plan was an upcoming gig at the El Rio.

The next day Alex flew back to London, and Barry and I scoured Milan looking for something to eat. We couldn’t seem to find a restaurant that was open, much less breakfast, lunch AND dinner. It was during one of the famous fashion weeks. We assumed all restaurants must be closed because fashion people don’t eat food, and the restaurants figured it’s a good time to close for vacation (and it wasn’t in August either). We finally found a place open and it was the first time I’d seen a bathroom where literally there was just a hole w/drain on the floor. I’d heard rumors that this happens in some places in Italy, but I insisted Barry go take a look, even tho he didn’t need the lav. It was hilarious.
I left Barry the next day to catch a train to Florence to meet up with my parents, and he was headed back to the States, I think hitting New York on the way back.

When Alex passed away I called Barry to offer my condolences. He was at an event that Alex was supposed to play at, and it became an impromptu memorial. I was sad for him. We laughed about our time in Italy. Barry said “I’ll never forgot you running across with piazza with your suitcase, blond hair flapping around,  yelling “Barry, Barry, here I am” with the London Symphony craining their necks out the bus window, wondering “who’s the famous blond?” Britney? Christina ? Madonna?”

Nope…it’s King Diamond!

king diamond