DVD Review: GG Allin & the AIDS Brigade, Live in Boston 1989

Text © Robert Barry Francos/FFanzeen, 2010
Images from the Internet

GG Allin & the AIDS Brigade, Live in Boston 1989
Directed by Merle Allin
MVD Visual, 2010
90 minutes, USD $19.95
GGAllin.com
MVDvisual.com

If you don’t know who GG Allin is, well, suffice to say that he is a cult hardcore musician who is simply without boundaries. He was as transgressive as he could be, with no fear of attacking his audience or injuring himself on stage. He made Johnny Rotten look like a nerd, Sid Viscous a schoolboy, Stiv Bators unassuming, and even Keith Moon appear sane. Ironically, his birth name was Jesus Christ Allin. He died of a drug overdose in New York City in June of 1993. I can’t imagine there is any way he could have lived much longer than that.

Back in the late ‘70s and early ‘80s, I started receiving badly recorded demo cassette tapes from GG of his band the Jabbers, when he was living up in New England. I wasn’t quite sure what to think about the music, but the lyrics were blatantly offensive, and obviously meant to be. The songs were not juvenile, like another West Coast cult band, the Angry Samoans (who wrote about saving Hitler’s appendage, rhyming it under a rock; don’t get me wrong, they were a fun band), but rather they were well written, albeit much more angry and violent (yes, I still have them).

Before long, his then band, the Murder Junkies, were banned in many clubs, including their local big town, Boston. Under the name The AIDS Brigade, the band got themselves booked at the Middle East Café in the Boston suburb of Cambridge, and went down to the show dressed in drag, in which they also performed.

The first couple of tracks of the DVD are two sets of rehearsals, one being just GG and his brother Merle, who is also in the band, facing each other in chairs and playing guitars. The second part is a full band rehearsal for 19 minutes, and I must say it’s the best I’ve heard the band sound. They played decent music, for certain, which would deteriorate as the years went on. The last pre-show footage, which lasts a bit too long at 15 minutes, is the make-up application in a crowded room, presumably someone’s house. It’s pretty hard to follow who other than the band is there, and what is being done at any particular moment.

The show itself, on August 27, which is done in full New York Dolls style drag (GG was a big fan), is mounted on the small stage, with GG in the center. Sure they cover all his main songs, such as “Expose Yourselves to Kids,” and my fave of their tunes, “Bite It You Scum,” but it is actually starts relatively sedate. They sound like a great hardcore band, or even mid-‘70s New York Scene style, but as it goes on, GG lifts his skirt and pulls off his panties, exposing himself (as he’s wont to do), and even manages to throw himself on the ground a few times. As GG shows go, this is mild, but the music is the most upfront I’ve seen, and as a musical act, they were impressive, with biting lyrics (pun intended), and smart tunes.

Ah, but the DVD doesn’t end there, and here is where it gets a bit – err – twisted. But first a side-note: from late 1989 to 1991, GG was in prison on an assault charge, and something must have “broke” in there, because of what followed in his life, including extreme substance abuse and the disappearance of any kind of propriety in his performances. I am not sure if Andy Kaufman would applaud or be aghast.

There are two full gigs at over 40 minutes each, presented via a close single camera (by a very brave cameraperson) from May 26 in Seattle and May 27 in Portland, just one month before his death. What is shown is how far to the extreme he had achieved. He performs both gigs naked (with the exception of boots, dog collar and in the second show, gloves), rips up bibles and local newspapers and sets them on fire onstage (using mas lighter fluid), pees and defecates on the stage (and ingests both), sticks multiple items up his bum (including a turkey baster and the microphone), flings the mic stand into the audience, and he punches people and gets pummeled in return. By the end he is bloodied and covered in crap (literally). There is a barrier between the audience and the stage, and while no one in the crowd comes over to the band’s side, GG travels often into the spectators, in one case ripping the tee-shirt off of a woman, and varied times whacking other people on the side of the head if they venture too close.

In the Seattle show, he openly insults Nirvana and Pearl Jam right off. Considering the time period and the location, this took balls, which were right there. The sound was kind of muddy, unfortunately, and the lyrics were mostly impossible to make out (though thanks to the 1989 show, one could have an idea). GG doesn’t just roam the stage, he prowls it… he owns it. Often hitting his head repeatedly with the mic, he growls more than sings, and it’s pretty obvious he’s bloated and not in good health. The club, Under the Rail, first tries to turn off the electricity, and then when they realize that this may cause more trouble than not, it comes back on and the band continues to play, including “Kill the Police,” “I Live to Be Hated,” and “Highest Power.” When all the lights go out, the show ends; GG goes into the audience and starts a near riot when the scene ends.

The second is at The Roseland Theater, where many of the preamble antics continue. GG’s legs are black and blue (could be bruising, or perhaps from shooting up?). The sound is a lot clearer, but it doesn’t help that GG keeps breaking the mics, which are replaced quite often (by a club roadie who does not want to touch the feces covered contraption; at first he just drops it on the floor, but then he brings a towel to wipe it off). At one point, GG climbs up on a very tall bank of monitors, and starts pushing at a neon wall hanging, and you’re left to wonder if it will go crash (I’m not telling).

It’s these later shows that are more representative of his Hated in the Nation documentary, which is where most know him from. Tt’s definitely a self-destructive circus that has attracted fans the likes of World War IX’s Justin Melkmann and SQNS’s Tony Petrozza (who covers “Bite It You Scum”), and I’m certainly glad to have them, but it’s the 1989 Cambridge show that is the find for me, as I had not seen footage of the band from this period. I am pleased at just how good and catchy it is. One would hardly know it was the same band.

GG Allin is not an acquired taste: you either love it or you hate it, period. If you’re squeamish about bodily functions (or bodies, for that matter) in any kind of way, or find objectionable lyrics objectionable, needless to say, avoid this. But if you are a fan, you surely will not be disappointed. RIP, GG, and I hope you have found peace.

Bonus video (not from this DVD):

Book Review: “A Dead Boy’s Tale” by Cheetah Chrome

Text and live photos © Robert Barry Francos / FFanzeen
Book cover image and video from the Internet

A Dead Boy’s Tale: From the Front Lines of Punk Rock
By Cheetah Chrome
MBI Publishing / Voyageur Press (Minneapolis, MN), 2010
368 pages; USD $24.00 / CAN $27.00W
ISBN: 978-0-7603-3773-8
www.voyageurpress.com

I really don’t know Cheetah Chrome. Yeah, I saw him in the Dead Boys quite a few times, including many shows opening for the Damned, and a couple of the Johnny Blitz benefits at CB’s. Then there was the Skels, when Julia Masi and I interviewed him and hung out with the band for an afternoon, with Julia taking photos of them on St. Mark’s Place. Nancy Foster and I also saw him pair up with John Spacely at the Johnny Thunders memorial in the early ‘90s. It’s been more than a dozen shows, and we’re Facebook friends, but I really don’t know Cheetah Chrome.

Thanks to his new (and hopefully first) autobiography, A Dead Boy’s Tale: From the Front Lines of Punk Rock , just released by Voyageur Press, I have a better idea of the man behind the blazing guitar.

Despite a long history of erratic behavior and substance abuse, Cheetah’s still here… well, in Nashville, anyway. Many of the people discussed in the book are not, such as Stiv Bators, Peter Laughner, Johnny Thunders, Joey Ramone, Hilly Krystal (and his dog Jonathan), Ron Ashton, John Spacely… Fortunately, his synapses survived as well, enough to write an autobiography on his life-thus-far.

The book is dense as he describes growing up in a poor area of Cleveland, as he turns from orange haired tyke to teen, getting in and out of trouble, and one can argue that the detail is perhaps too much (hell, everyone really wants to hear those back stage and road stories, right?), but I argue that Cheetah cleverly sews a solid picture of what he is to be, prefacing his rise to relative prominence by describing his finding of music as a force, his various guitars, and the early hints of indulgences.

[Dead Boys during Blitz Benefit at CBGB's]

On the other hand, I found the last quarter of the book to be a bit thin, without mention of some of his work, like with the Skels (other than in the preface), focusing more on his fighting addiction than making music. Yeah, it’s in there, but as he made music a hobby rather than a career (his description) at one point, for his own health, he talks more about his life off the road than on. Perhaps he thought we would be more interested only in his earlier work? Or maybe the book company gave him a limit of pages? It’s possible that he was zonked out and just doesn’t remember that period well?

But don’t get me wrong, this work keeps the reader interested from beginning to end, and I am hoping that the less detailed spots are just lead-up to the next book (From a Dead Boy to a Live Man, may I suggest as a title, with a firm nudge and smile?). And rather than just whining about his addictions or glorifying them (like Jim Carroll’s Basketball Diaries), Cheetah’s approach is just to talk as himself, without trying to justify or damn his actions and experiences much. It’s a brave stance, and one that should be applauded.

The key focus of the book is from Rocket From the Tombs, through especially his Dead Boys period in the ‘70s. There is lots of Pete Moon level machismo bravado, destroyed hotel rooms, and sexual hijinks, much of it fuel by, well, you know. Lots of it will make you laugh, some of it will make you wince, and, well, other than the performances, may make you glad to be reading it from a distance of time. I remember being backstage at CBGB’s in 1977, for example, talking to the Dead Boys, and keeping my finger over the mouth of my beer as they were infamous for peeing in any open drink they could find, in good fun of course.

While Cheetah may not have the lyrically poetic background of a Carroll (I’m happy to say), he certainly is a fine writer and a strong wit, while describing his life. He is blunt, takes blame where it is his, rarely makes apologies, and even makes his ex-, the strong-willed Gyda Gash, look favorable despite their famously volatile time together. When he doesn’t like someone, however, he also does not hold back, such as the producer of the Dead Boys’ second LP, a colossal failure, the legendary (and wrong choice) Felix Pappalardi (who was later shot to death 5 years later by his wife).

It is ironic that Slash would supply the quote on the cover, rightfully stating Cheetah’s contribution to rock’n’roll. Their biographies are actually quite similar in thread (though Cheetah’s does not bludgeon the language with numerous repitions, as Slash does with “all things considered…). They are both from rough neighborhoods and family life, found solace in sex and drugs and music (specifically on guitar), are quite frank about their excesses, and have achieved a modicum of success. It’s true that Slash’s star rose higher, but honestly, if I had a choice between “Welcome to the Jungle” and “Sonic Reducer,” the latter would win every time. Cheetah intrigues me more and his book is definitely more satisfying (I will keep this one, and have just sold Slash’s hardcover at a garage sale for $1, if that helps give you an idea).

[At the Johnny Thunders memorial]

There are some cool B&W photos throughout (I’ve included a couple of my own here, that are not not in the book, so there), and the pages, well, they just fly by.

This is a joy to read, and I cannot recommend it enough to anyone who is interested in an early view of what would become punk rock and arguably, in the Dead Boys’ case, proto-hardcore. I want to personally thank Cheetah for being so forthcoming, bringing me joyous hours listening to him play, getting the chance to read about his life, and for being true to who he is, whether it’s in a pharmaceutical haze of his early days or his straight living now.

After you finish reading this, get Young, Loud and Snotty and blast it, and check out some of his other contributions (a discography would have been a nice addition, but here is one online: discogs.com/artist/Cheetah+Chrome).

Finally, I want to add that the forward to the book by Legs McNeil is a fun read not just because he was there and is a punk “name,” but he sets up, through personal experience, a view into Cheetah’s mindset.

And check for Cheetah’s new band, Batusis (with Sylvain Sylvain) who are touring.

ED DANKY: FFanzeen on a Powertrip

Transcribed by Julia Masi and liberally edited by FFanzeen staff, 1983
Intro by Robert Barry Francos, 2010
© FFanzeen 1983, 2010
Images from the Internet

The following interview with California punk metal musician, Ed Danky, appeared in FFanzeen, Number 10, which was published in 1983.

Ed Danky was with the near-metal band Powertrip, from Los Angeles. He was also in two other bands at the same time, Würm and Reign of Terror. He was invited by or Managing Editor, Julia Masi, to come over to her house for dinner, along with two friends, Paul Sass and Susan Weisband, and myself. Also present was one of the people helping with our publicity, Laura Allgeier, and Julia’s parents, who were solid Brooklyn Italian. Both the Masi parents were sweet, but very different personalities. Her mom, Frances, took care of the house, hung out with the neighbors, and was friendly, yet reticent. She was open to what her daughter was into, but didn’t really have a deep comprehension to something so alien to her world. Her dad, Ralph, on the other hand, was solid smart-ass. He was a huge and intimidating man, both in height and girth, but I truly liked him. On one hand he kept Julia’s dates in line, yet he also baked some wicked cheesecake.

Getting back to Ed Danky, despite the metal accoutrement, inside he was solid surfer dude and flowerchild-like, totally unaware into what he was walking. Between Julia’s exceedingly sharp humor filled with highly sexually playful overtones, my own sarcastic life view, and her parents floating about, in addition to Susan and Paul, all Ed could do was try and hold on to the kitchen chair until the ride was over. And a rough one it was, too. But it was also incredibly funny. Poor boy never saw it coming.

Note that there are two postscripts following this interview. Enjoy. – RBF, 2010

I think I was asleep when he called, or maybe my brain had shorted out, but I don’t remember anything about our phone conversation except that I wrote down the address of where he was staying and… “Würm… Reign of Terror… Powertrip.”

With this cryptic message crumpled in my hand, I fell asleep until my illustrious editor, Robert Barry Francos, called to see what time he was coming for dinner, and where to pick up our friends, Paul Sass and Susan Weisband. I gave him their address and told him to pick up “somebody’s friend” on East 14th Street (in Midwood, Brooklyn). I stuffed the note in my pocket and went back to sleep.

I had a dream that the phantom voice on the phone was a psycho. And when Robert went to pick him up, he kidnapped Robert and dragged him off to some unknown territory of California.

FFanzeen Promotional Manager, Laura Allgeier, came over with her suitcase, adding to my paranoia (I forgot she was spending the night). We sat around trying to figure out who this “phantom” was. So just to be on the safe side, I decided to set up my tape recorder and bug the room. This way, if he was a musician, I’d have a story for FFanzeen. If he was psycho, I had a story for The Post.

What follows is the New York adventure of guitarist / singer / songwriter, Ed Danky.

Julia Masi: First question: what did you say your name was?
Ed Danky: Ed Danky.

Julia: Okay, that sounds good. Now, tell me the truth, did you get my number off a men’s room wall?
Ed: No, Gerry gave it to me.

Julia: Oh, that’s just as good! Gerry who?
Ed: You know Gerry [Lambe, bass player]! From Cheetah Chrome’s band [The Skels, whom Julia had interviewed].

Julia: Oh, nice guy. I think he told me about you. You’re in a band, right?
Ed: I’m in three bands: Würm, my original band with the bass player from Black Flag [Chuck Dukowski], Reign of Terror, which is my band, and Powertrip, who I came to New York with.

Julia: Well, so as long as you’re here, do you mind if I do an interview with you right now?
Ed: [Pointing at the tape recorder on the table] Is that on now?

Julia: Of course it is. Isn’t it very difficult playing in three bands at once?
Ed: I practice all the time; I try to play a lot, but we really don’t have a lot of gigs. I hope to get more when we get back (to California), but there aren’t many places to play. A lot of clubs are being shut down. The Whiskey just closed on the 18th (of September) or something. I only played there twice, but it was a great club. And this summer, four or five other clubs closed.

Julia: We’ve experienced that here, too. Why is it happening in Los Angeles?
Ed: In LA, it’s because of the police, ‘cause the gigs are really good. But the punks are either too young or too broke to get in, so they just hang out outside on the street.

Julia: You mean they stand outside the club and listen to the band?
Ed: Yeah, with the Whiskey, that’s why it closed. To get into gigs in LA, you’ve got to be 21. It’s different. It’s an earlier town. It closes at 2 AM.

Julia: Where do kids, say 18 or 19, go to listen to music?
Ed: Well, the Whiskey was the last all-ages club. There’s always parties.

Julia: Do the kids really cause so much trouble, or…
Ed: [Laughs] Cops just don’t understand punks. It’s a natural consequence. Look at what happened to Black Flag. They got so much notoriety from their gigs being shut down. Them and all their equipment, and their fans, being taken off to jail. It worked for them.

Robert Barry Francos: But how do you arrest a guitar? Do you read it its rights and put handcuffs around its neck?
Julia: Tell me about Reign of Terror. Who’s in the band?
Ed: Some guys from LA.

Julia: What are their names?
Ed: I don’t know their last names.

Julia: What do you call them?
Ed: Ed and Jessie.

Julia: I won’t ask who’s who.
Ed: The bass player is a crazed Mexican skinhead.

Robert: Always good! Always good!
Ed: He’s like Jack Bruce or something. A real three piece player. And the drummer’s Japanese. He wants to play that kind of fun power-pop or something. We actually end up playing the most with hardcore groups. There really isn't much rock’n’roll going on. Reign of Terror is a little bit behind Powertrip as far as organization goes. The other two guys don’t drive. They don’t even have a van.

Julia: What do you expect, if they don’t have last names?
Ed: We made a record, but our record’s not out yet. I wanted to come here to New York so I could get everything together.

Julia: You’ve played on records with everyone. How many labels are you on?
Ed: Würm and Reign of Terror are on Black Flag’s label, SST. And Powertrip is on Jeff Dahl’s label, Mystic. Mystic has my favorite band on it, the Mentors. They’re hooded. It’s hard to explain.

Julia: What do you mean, “hooded”? Like, they walk around in shrouds? That kind of hooded?
Robert: Sounds like the Residents.
Ed. Yeah, oh yeah. It’s a great band. [Note: Ed would briefly join the Mentors as bassist under the clever name of Poppa Sneaky Spermshooter – RBF, 2010]

Julia: There’s a guy on the “N” train like that. You should take him back to LA with you and introduce him to the band. I think he plays chess.
Ed: No. They’ll be coming here soon [he stares at Julia strangely].

Julia: How long have you been in New York?
Ed: Since Monday. We (Powertrip) played a few places: R.T. Firefly’s, and a hardcore place, A7. Cheetah jammed with us that night. It was fun.

Julia: Do you like Cheetah’s band, the Skels?
Ed: Yeah. They’re great. I’m really into that. I like what I call Detroit rock. That’s all I ever talk about when I get together with bands, that kind of really heavy bass, like the Stooges, MC5, or New York bands like the Dolls.

Julia: Do you write music like that?
Ed: Sometimes, I guess.

Julia: Too fast to be heavy metal?
Ed: Something like that. It’s like the crossover that Motörhead had. But it's cleaner than that, like Judas Priest at 45 (rpm).

Julia: How many songs have you contributed to each band?
Ed: Two for Powertrip. Reign of Terror and Würm are all my songs.

[A little blonde-haired lady, otherwise known as Frances Masi, bursts into the room]
Frances Masi: You’ve got five minutes (till dinner is ready). [To Ed] Have you got anything to say in the next five minutes?
Ed: [Looking confused] Nothing that I couldn’t say in the next five days.

Frances: Well, I’ve got to explain something: Robert, remember when I threw out my chairs?
Robert: I remember. The table went with them.
Frances: Well, I only have four chairs. So we’re going to have to try to balance.
Paul Sass: There’s no problem. Susan can sit on my lap.
Laura Allgeier: Since I think I weigh the most of anybody here, I should have my own chair. [Note: Laura is not heavy, but the rest of us are near emaciated.]
[Ed stares blankly.]
Julia: It’s okay. Robert and I can fit on one chair.
Robert: I don’t want to sit next to you.
Julia: We won’t touch.
Frances: Is anybody short? We have a step stool.
Julia: Three of us can sit on that.
Ed: You’re eating now?

Julia: Yeah. So are you. Didn’t you come for dinner?
Ed: [Staring at Julia] What?

Julia: Oh, I’m sorry. Did I inflict a traumatic experience on you or something? I mean, sending this strange guy [Robert] to pick you up and everything? That’s almost like being kidnapped.
Ed: I went along with it. I had nothing else to do.

Robert: He was just sitting in this little basement room looking at pictures of Iggy Pop and Marilyn Monroe. They were all over the wall.
Julia: [To Laura] Take the tape recorder in the kitchen. [Looks at Ed] You can talk with your mouth full, right? We do it all the time.
Ed: What?

[We move to the kitchen. Laura plugs the tape recorder into the wall. A huge chair floats to the door frame with a pair of legs sticking out from underneath and a voice behind it.]
Francs: Is anybody tall? They can sit on this
Robert: It won’t fit through the (kitchen) door [which it didn’t].
Julia: Where are the Seven Santini Brothers [a New York moving company] when you need them?
Robert: I sit at the end of the table. I’m the publisher!

[We try to shift four chairs around a very small table with six people, in a kitchen designed to seat three munchkins.]
Frances: Julia can stand.
Paul: Actually, it’s healthier if you eat while standing.
Robert: Then everything falls to your feet.
Julia: Would it stop along the way? Like at the hips?
Laura: [Mumbling to Julia] Nothing gets past your chest.

[A stout, white-haired man, known as Ralph Masi, comes in with a lop-sided stool.]
Ralph Masi: Here, somebody can sit on this. Just don’t touch the bottom. There are pins in it.
Julia: Give it to Laura. She never leans back.

[We keep shifting chairs. I get the step-stool, the rest of the crowd are sitting on chairs of various sizes.]
Laura: [Leans back on the stool and hits her head on the sink] Oh, God! I can’t sue! They have no money!
Julia: [Standing by the stove and staring at it as if it were an alien] I need help. I’m not domestic. Laura, you’re German, you should be good with ovens.
Laura: I’m good at putting things in, not taking them out.
Robert: Why do we have two plates?
Julia: The little one is for the antipasto.
Paul: Why is it anti-? Why does it have to be anti-anything?
Julia: Don’t get political! It’s just a salad. You eat it before the pasta, which is in the oven – indefinitely. I’m afraid to take it out.

[We all start eating the antipasto. Laura graciously explains its ingredients to Ed, advising him against the provolone cheese.]
Laura: Every time I come here he gives me some weird cheese. Don’t eat it. And don’t eat the Tuscany peppers.
Julia: Don’t listen to her. These things are great.

[Julia proceeds to stuff about three peppers in her mouth. Susan tries one and very politely lets out a shriek.]
Laura: She bit it! I did that the first time I was here, too.
Julia: You should have sucked it first.
Susan Weisband: Why didn’t you tell me it was hot?!
Julia: I forgot. If you kiss Paul right now, you can pass along the heat.

[Julia starts collecting everyone’s plates for the main course.]
Julia: [Pointing inside the oven] Robert, see inside there.
Robert: You’re pushing it.
Julia: I just want you to get something out.

[She opens the oven and points to a five pound pan of baked rigatoni. Robert pulls it out and puts it on top of the stove. Julia overloads everyone’s plate. We all start eating again and telling tasteless ethnic jokes for the next half hour.]
Julia: [Staring at Ed’s half-empty plate] If you don’t like that, just reach into the refrigerator and grab something. There must be something you like.
Ed: I like this. Really. I’m just not used to eating so much.

Julia: Well, it doesn’t matter. We didn’t make it for you. It’s just left over from when my parents ate.
Ed: You mean they gave up eating, too?

Julia: No, they just don’t do it in front of me.
Robert: In case you haven’t noticed, they’re Italian.
Julia: So we always cook extra, in case all of Naples should drop by. Tell me about the bands.
Ed: Würm is a little heavy metal. We’d have Würm together now if everyone wasn’t so busy. The drummer is in Slam, and the bass player is in Black Flag. Reign of terror is a little bit poppier. The other guys aren’t in any other bands.

Julia: What are some of Reign of Terror’s songs?
Ed: “Don’t Blame Me,” “Dead of Night,” “Price of Fame,” “Some Came Running”; Reign of Terror is really a funny band.

Julia: Tell me something that you do that is funny.
Ed: [Laughs] It’s just such a refreshing band. We laugh all the time. Powertrip worries too much. They’ll worry for no reason. They’ll worry that nothing is right. “We’ve gotta do this.” Really sour people. I can’t stand grumps. They don’t like me very much. That’s why they left me. They don’t understand that we’re already getting the big shaft on this tour. We’re not in a respected position. We’re getting treated like shit on this tour.

Julia: Tell me about the tour. What has happened so far?
Ed: We were on our way to Chicago for our first date and I broke the van. Accidently. It wouldn’t have made it anyway.

Julia [Laughing] How do you break a van? Did you drop it or something?
Ed: I didn’t do it on purpose, but it was an old van. It just couldn’t make it. We were supposed to go over a 12,000 pass and we only made it to 11,000 feet when the gear slipped, or something. So we got towed down to Silver Thorn [Colorado], which was about 3,000 feet, and we were gonna have to stay there for two days.

[Ralph walks in and looks at Ed’s half-empty plate.]
Ralph: If you don’t like that, look in the refrigerator. You want a beer?
Ed: I’ve got a glass of wine.

Ralph. It doesn’t matter. Have a beer [he says, as Ralph hands Ed one]. Make yourself a sandwich. [Ralph exits.]
Julia: That’s gonna keep happening. God forbid you should starve. Did you make it to Chicago on time?
Ed: We were going to Chicago a few days early. We had a few friends we wanted to see first. But anyway, we got towed into town and we were gonna have to stay in town for two days. And me and our tour manager – he’s great. We’re the only ones who are having any fun on this tour. We call the rest of the band “Misery.” They’re real frowners. Nobody else in the band gets stoned –

Julia: Watch it! Don’t tell us drug stories or Robert won’t print this.
Robert: Nothing about drugs in my magazine. No one on my staff does extraneous drugs of any kind.
Ed: [Looking shocked] Really? Nobody?

Julia: But don’t let that intimidate you. You’re the only one here that’s acting normal.
Robert: That’s the scary part.
Julia: Back to the tour –
Ed: Well, we got stuck in this hillbilly town and me and the tour manager met this guy in front of the liquor store. And he asked us to play at this party. It was in a big, old barn. So we got a gig. The next day was awful. We were stuck in hotels. We got to Chicago just about an hour before we had to play. We got poisoned in Philadelphia. We had unlimited beer. They had this ice chest – this is what we figured out the next day – and the ice and the beer were floating in this scummy water, and each day they’d throw in more ice to the old water. We all got really sick on the way to New York. Well, they got really sick. I just got a stomach ache.

Julia: Uh-huh. What’s the philosophy of the band?
Robert: “Rene Descartes is on an airplane. The stewardess comes over and says, ‘Would you like something to drink?’ Descartes says, ‘I think not,’ and disappears.”
[Susan instantly bursts out in a fit of laughter, her face turns red, and her eyes get misty.]
Robert: [Laughing] That’s great. Most people don’t get it that quickly. Took me half a second, the first time I heard it. I never got that reaction before.
Julia: And you never will again. Have you got anything relevant to say?
Robert: If you want me to leave, I will. But we’re all going to the club [Dr. B’s] in 15 minutes.

[He and Susan go into the living room, to join Paul (who had left a few minutes before) and the Masi’s.]
Julia: Okay, I’ll wrap it up. Very quickly, tell me your life story! Everything! And your theory on the end of the world!

[Frances comes in and starts making a pot of coffee. She examines Ed’s half-empty plate.]
Frances: What’s the matter? Don’t you eat? [To Julia] You’re some hostess. Half your friends are in the living room. You don’t make coffee. When are you going to get around to desert? [To Ed and Laura] I didn’t even know anybody was coming over today. Until you walked in the door.
Laura: Did you know I was staying over?
Frances: I caught on when I saw your suitcase. [To Julia] Is anybody else staying over?
Julia: Can I tell you in the morning?
Frances: Can I kill you in the morning?
Julia: [To Ed] Do you need a place to sleep?
Frances: What about the rest of his band?
Ed: They’re in Philadelphia.

Frances. Of course. [She starts to walk out the door, but turns back.] Philadelphia! If they’re in Philadelphia, how did you get here?
Ed: A girl drove me to Brooklyn.

Julia: Didn’t she like you?
Ed: Yeah, she likes me. They (the band) ditched me without my jacket. Without my phone numbers. Or money. Gerry is the only friend I’ve made here. What happened was, these girls were really cool. They spent everything they had to get to Philadelphia to see us; every cent. And this girl drove us to Philadelphia and then stayed in Philadelphia. And I called her and she drove me back to Brooklyn. The train is, like, 17 bucks [Today it costs between $80-150 – RBF, 2010]. I was spending a lot of money when I had it.

Julia: So, is the general attitude of the band a lot of ego clashing?
Ed: We have a theme song in Powertrip: [he sings] “Everything’s got be my way / Don’t wanna hear what you have to say / I’m living on a Powertrip.”

Julia: Does Würm have a theme song?
Ed: No. I forget. It’s a pretty old band, since ’76 or ’77. I can’t sing it. I just waned to come to New York and get everything set up to bring my band [Reign of Terror] here before the weather gets cold.

Julia: You don’t have much time.
Robert: [Reappearing at the kitchen door] Are we ready to go?
Julia: [To Ed] You’re coming with us, right?
Robert: Will you stop intimidating the man?
Ed: No, really, I have to get back.

[Back to where he didn’t exactly say. When we left Ed Danky, he was standing before a dark BMT subway entrance, looking like a confused version of The Little Prince, going back to his home planet holding a copy of FFanzeen in one hand and a single subway token in the other.]
* * *
Postscript 1: Powertrip Press Release from 1983: “Upon arrival back in L.A., Powertrip’s guitarist and roadie were promptly given their walking papers for unprofessional conduct both on and off stage – and for being complete pigs hygienically speaking. Powertrip wishes each of them the very best of luck for the future, but hopes to never see their ugly moronic asses again.”

Postscript 2: Ex-band mate Jeff Dahl, of Powertrip, sent me the following email after the turn of the century: “Sorry to say but Ed Danky died some years ago. OD'd, actually [in 1991, via cocaine – RBF, 2010]. The Powertrip album has been re-released on CD (Triple X Records) for the first time and has some of the demo tracks from when Ed was still in the band. (If you remember our ‘road manager’ from that tour, English Frank, or our drummer, John Bliss, they're both gone also.)”

Listen to Reign of Terror:
http://www.box.net/shared/6ijs6s39xm#/shared/6ijs6s39xm/1/6005678/55265838/1

Rumors of Gehenna

Género/Genre: Thrash Metal/Hardcore
País/Country: Italy
Official Myspace: Rumors of Gehenna
Support The Band: Blackscaped

Rumors of Gehenna - Ten Hatred Degrees (2008)

1.	First Hatred Degree	01:46
2.	Dead Slaves	04:45
3.	Eternal Flames	04:11
4.	Detoxication	05:40
5.	My Hourglass Never Fails	05:26
6.	Human	03:51
7.	Seven	05:08
8.	Internal Slaughtering	04:53
9.	November 32st A.C.	05:15
10.	Last Violence	04:59

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BAD BRAINS: Jah Doesn’t Love You Anyway

Text by Paul Decolator, intro by Robert Barry Francos
Interview © 1983; RBF intro © 2010 by FFanzeen
Images from the Internet

[Paul Decolator]
The following article about DC punkers Bad Brains was originally published in FFanzeen magazine, issue #10, in 1983. It was written by Paul Decolator, who would become one of the key figures in the New Jersey hardcore scene of the ‘80s, as a musician, promoter, and including going on to publish his own ‘zine, the excellent digest-sizedTips & Tours. He was in his teens when he wrote this piece, but sadly, Paul passed away at age 36. His memorial page is here: myspace.com/pauldecolator

Never in the history of FFanzeen did we ever receive so much hate mail than after the publication of this article. Over the years, though, much of what Paul claimed has become widely circulated and acknowledged. – RBF, 2010
The BB’s cassette happened to be one of last year’s greatest releases (ReachOut International Records [ROIR]), unsurpassed in its speed, energy & raw power. In concert the BB were in a special class by themselves. You’re probably saying, to yourself, “Yah, right man, the Bad Brains Rule.”

[The ROIR Tape]
Well think again. The Bad Brains are not the punk saviors everyone makes them out to be. The Bad Brains have a seedy side to them that contradicts the very fundamentals of what this phenomena called Punk (Hardcore, if you want to call it that) stands for.

Let’s start off with some of the BB’s major sins – sins ‘cause Jah would turn over in his grave if he knew what these Rasta-phonies preached. On a national tour, the BB stopped in Texas; there they played to a very enthusiastic crowd who loved them and their music, but this attitude would soon change. The BB hooked up with MDC (Millions of Dead Cops); the BB liked their music and offered MDC a spot on their tour across the rest of the country. The BB also offered to help MDC distribute their record across America and even to do something with the band in the UK. It was almost a dream-come-true. I say almost because it never materialized. Why? Well it just so happens a couple of the members of MDC are gay. When the Bad Brains heard this they lost a bolt, going on this tirade about how horrible homosexuality is, calling the members of MDC “bloodclot faggots” and condemning them to an eternity in hell. Needless to say, the BB was so disillusioned by these “misguided" souls that the BB cancelled all plans with MDC.

This wasn’t their only bad incident in the Lone Star State: the BB stayed with the Big Boys while in Texas. Randy, the lead singer, was nice enough to supply the BB with fifty dollars worth of pot. After all, the BB need their daily dosage of ganja to keep their heads permanently in some sorta mystical fog. But Randy also happens to be homosexual and you know the BB hate gays. So instead of being swell guys and paying Randy for the weed, they gave him and the Big Boys a verbal tongue-lashing and split Texas, leaving being a trail of shattered images.

Well, the Bad Brains scourge doesn’t limit itself to Texas. Back in their East Coast camping ground, New York, the BB also screwed a few people. The 171-A Recording Studios was where the NY Thrash tape (also ROIR) and the BB’s tape were recorded. The BB set up home there and used the studio a lot. And not just in the conventional sense either. The BB took a few liberties with the phones there and rang up a bill of tremendous proportions. The BB said they would pay for the bill, but of course they didn’t, and the 171-A went under a month later. I wonder were all the phone calls were to – Ethiopia?

But it doesn’t stop there. MDC came to town and played as 2+2, and you couldn’t imagine the BB’s reaction when those “bloodclots” tried to invade BB territory. The night of the gig there was a royal egg raid. At this gig, the BB stated what they thought were abominations, mainly gays and lesbians. What struck me really funny was that the BB preach unity – you know, that concept where everyone comes together and breaks down such barriers as race, sex, creed, etc., etc. At any BB show, one can hear such phrases as, “Black and unite.”

I guess the BB forgot to make clear in their songs that we can only unify as long as we are not gays, dykes, faggots, or sympathizers. As an obscure fanzine said, “The Bad Vibes [mock word-play on the BB – PD] preach unity only through fascism.”

Who the hell do the Bad Brains think they are? Thanx to all the punks who needed some stupid idols to worship, the BB were elevated to such a post where they can obviously say whatever they want to matter how asinine or contradictory it is. Now that the BB is at this lofty position they can take the punks for all their money and still preach this ludicrous bullshit.

Now you’re saying, “But they put on a good show.” Yeah, and so does Van Halen. The fact that Punk is here is because it was formed as a rebellious movement which promoted open-mindedness, originality and aggression. It is a cry against certain stupid aspects of society. Punk can be a unifying factor in today’s society because it focuses on alternative ideas. It also confronts issues that your Moral Majority type would shy away from. The fact that the BB play good music doesn’t mean they can go around and screw people out of money or anything else.

Sincerity – where is it? The BB doesn’t possess a scrap of it. Remember when the BB broke up and were going to form their all-reggae band, Zion Train? I do. The fact that they never formed it is interesting to look at. The BB are con artists who love that green stuff sometimes referred to as money. All they have to say is they’re gonna break up, and when they announce they will play their last show, there’s gonna be a lot of dinero floating around. And after their three month’s absence over the summer, they can come back and stage reunion gigs and make even more money and take us punks for another eight bucks a ticket.

Another event that killed me was their Discharge / Bad Brains concert scam. First off, Discharge was never even scheduled to play, but the name Discharge sure kicked up advance ticket sales. I know I bought my eight dollar ticket as soon as I heard that line up. Of course, when I go there, Discharge was supposedly canceled and the lamest English group (Vice Squad) was substituted. Gee, when I got there, a big sign read, “American Gov’t Cancelled Discharge.” Yeah, right. I believe that. I also believe in Santa Claus, Jesus Christ and the Tooth Fairy. Discharge had been touring the country all the time and was nowhere near New York at the time of that gig. It is also rumored that the whole thing was a scam put on by Vice Squad to get more people to come to the show. Well, it worked. Even though I asked for a refund, my friend (who had come to see Discharge) went in to see the bands because he traveled from Jersey and didn’t want to go home empty-handed, as it were. My friend was treated to the Young & the Useless (undeniably one of NY’s worst acts), a set by Vice Squad, and a special 25 minute set by those darlings, the BB. Boy eight bucks for 25 lousy minutes of music. A real irony was that outside the show, one of the members of the Young & the Useless was trying to coax people into seeing the show saying, “Three bands for eight dollars is a good deal.” A Minor Threat / SSD / + three other bands show, put on by the Philly BYO for five dollars, is a good deal, not three bands for eight bucks.

You’re asking, “When does this end?” Well not yet, buddies. The BB did a show on November 20th with Scream and Double Blow at CB’s, and it just so happens that on the same night, the worthy Philadelphia Better Youth Organization was staging their first important show with the aforementioned bands. Wasn’t that sweet of the BB to do a gig that same night so as to take away a good 400 people from going to the show in Philly? I guess since the Philly punks take a liking to MDC and open-minded ideas, that they should be penalized. And it’s not as if the BB couldn’t have gotten a show at CB’s a week later. You see, the Bad Brains do more damage to the scene than help. In my own opinion, the BB isn’t that good a band to the point where they start fucking up scenes.

This article was not meant to kiss-ass up to the BB, and it’s certainly not being written ‘cause I have something against the band, musically. It’s just that with all these incidents occurring, I just cannot support the BB – it goes against every minor ethic or ideal I ever had about Punk. It’s a shame to see such people trying to screw everything up.

In final, go out and ask people, write MDC or the Big Boys, and ask their opinions; write or talk to the Bad Brains and see what they have to say, and then form your own opinion. I have given you mine. The Bad Brains are Bad Business. And hey, Jah doesn’t love you anyway.

Dying Fetus

Género/Genre: Brutal Death Metal/Grincore/Hardcore
País/Country: USA
Tema Lírico/Lyrical Theme: Religion, Politics, Violence

Dying Fetus - Descend into Depravity (2009)

1.	Your Treachery Will Die With You	03:34
2.	Shepherd's Commandment	04:28
3.	Hopeless Insurrection	04:32
4.	Conceived Into Enslavement	04:24
5.	Atrocious By Nature	03:52
6.	Descend Into Depravity	05:02
7.	At What Expense	04:37
8.	Ethos Of Coercion	03:16

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Dying Fetus - War Of Attrition (2007)

1.Homicidal Retribution 05:30
2.Fate of the Condemned 04:42
3.Raping the System 03:41
4.Insidious Repression 04:47
5.Unadulterated Hatred 06:11
6.Ancient Rivalry 03:33
7.Parasites of Catastrophe 04:12
8.Obsolete Deterrence 04:14

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Dying Fetus - Stop At Nothing (2003)

1.Schematics 03:59
2.One Shot, One Kill 04:25
3.Institution of Deceit 03:39
4.Abandon All Hope 06:22
5.Forced Elimination 03:22
6.Stop At Nothing 03:09
7.Onslaught of Malice 05:33
8.Vengeance Unleashed 05:08

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Dying Fetus - Destroy the Opposition (2000)

1.Praise the Lord (Opium of the Masses) 05:31
2.Destroy the Opposition 05:11
3.Born In Sodom 04:46
4.Epidemic of Hate 04:43
5.Pissing In the Mainstream 01:57
6.In Times of War 03:08
7.For Us Or Against Us 05:34
8.Justifiable Homicide 05:35

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Dying Fetus - Killing On Adrenaline (1998)

1.Killing On Adrenaline 05:40
2.Procreate the Malformed 07:07
3.Fornication Terrorists 05:29
4.We Are Your Enemy 03:45
5.Kill Your Mother / Rape Your Dog 01:16
6.Absolute Defiance 03:53
7.Judgement Day 01:51
8.Intentional Manslaughter 05:30

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Dying Fetus - Purification Through Violence (1996)

1.Blunt Force Trauma 05:26
2.Beaten Into Submission 02:50
3.Skull Fucked 02:55
4.Permanently Disfigured 03:25
5.Raped On the Altar 03:55
6.Nothing Left to Pray For 03:55
7.Nocturnal Crucifixion 03:23
8.Skum (Fuck the Weak) 02:53


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Punk Temple Faces, Pt 2: May 3, 2003

Photos and text (c) Robert Barry Francos

This, the Punk Temple, of Bensonhurst, Brooklyn, was a very loyal scene, supported by a group of kids who went to see shows, no matter who was playing. For this, the got to see the lows (such as Pop Star Kids) to the highs (so many...Miracle of 86 [with Kevin Devine], Monty Love, The Nerve!, and TreePhort, and some unknown bands, like the Plain White T's). Brooklyn was represented with bands local like the Inhuman and Dreams Forever Drowning, but there was also some national touring bands from the whole East Coast that would play.

Because of this support, you may likely see some of the same faces come up again and again.

Onstage with Army of Me

The Crew

Unimpressed by the Pop Star Kids

Moshin' to Casey Scores a Goal

Some Punk Temple scene vets

Producer of cable access show Videowave, Alan Abramowitz, checks out the scene

The next few are taken during one of the scene's much-loved bands, The Nerve!

Divin' to the song "Ass Plastic"

Turned on by the band

Tony SQNS (pronouced "sickness") and Liel getting so excited...

...that Tony needs to fly!