16 October 2010

Old, New, Borrowed and Blowed Up Real Good


I really only collect two things: records and books. I like them, I have room for them and I can afford to collect records and books. As a bonus, reading and listening to music is good for you. You can even do both at the same time.

I have other stuff I buy and do not throw out, but not enough of it to make me a collector. Fishing gear, guns, hockey cards, the usual Canadian shit.

Some people collect based on a theme. You all know people who collect duck shit, pig shit, dog shit. I have quite a bit of horse shit in the house but not quite enough for anybody to think I am a horse shit collector.

I collect memories too. We all do. I remember seeing the Dead Kennedys and the Subhumans 31 years ago. The Young Canadians and Private School played too. I do not remember all the rock shows I have experienced but I remember that night real well to this day.

Private School were a great Dope City band. Young fellow by the name of Dave Gregg fiddled around on the guitar for them. Bass player Tony Faulk looked like a young Tiger Woods if memory serves. Their days were numbered when Dave Gregg signed on with DOA. I would have been waiting for the drugs to kick in when they began the night's entertainment. I hate waiting.

Young Canadians were next up. One of the most wicked Dope City bands ever. This would have been the best guitar playing we heard all night and Dave Gregg, East Bay Ray and Mike Normal were already on their way to becoming punk rock guitar gods. The crowd was already having lots of fun by now but we had learned to pace ourselves. There were two great rock bands still to come. Four band rock shows could be a motherfucking marathon no matter what you were on.

Subhumans were next. One of the world's top dozen rock bands ever. I seem to recall Jello Biafra joining the rampaging crowd for part of their set. By this time my wasted buddies and I were getting into it with a gang of long hair greasers from the suburbs. This happened all the time. Long hair motherfuckers from the suburbs visiting Dope City looking for some punk rock violence. For a while it looked like we might have a war but we just had some fun. Long hair violence seeking motherfuckers from the suburbs were just like us. We understood each other. We were glad there was no war - one of their boys was a monster. They were glad there was no war - they could tell we were incapable of feeling pain.

Finally, the Dead Kennedys put on one of the best rock shows by an out of town band in history. Individually and collectively, these fucking Americans could rip like the Devil with a belly full of fallen souls. Joe Shithead even came out into the audience to do his dance of death in a crowd twice as ecstatic as you would find at a first rate voo doo ritual.

That is why I will be seeing the Subhumans and Jello perform tonight. You only live once, twice if you count the eternity you will burn in Hell. Kick out the jams, motherfuckers. Kick out the jams.

4 comments:

Jon said...

Great shit Beer.

Stephanie in Vcr said...

YES. I am gonna be there:-)

Stephanie in Vcr said...

false alarm (sro and friend who had tix....LIED)...damn

Mr. Beer N. Hockey said...

You missed a Hell of a show Stephanie. The crowd, while not as burly and A-bomb expectant as the crowds I got to play around with many years ago, sure was enthusiastic about everything. The punk rock crowd are still my kind of people. Same way the first caveman was who bonked someone over the head who figured he was a leader for no good reason; same way the beats were when I was as yet unborn; same way the yippies were when I began paying attention to what the fuck was going on in my world as a youngster. Where there is rebellion, there is hope, that is all the gas I need in my motorcycle tank. That, and a few cold ones.