(Roving correspondent/ photographer Kristen Tobiason revisits and documents the scenes of our youth. Today, Studio 517 sheds its leathers for pinstripes.)
Studio 517 was in full swing during the summers of 1982-’83. Managed by Steve Epeneter — a tall, idiosyncratic fellow nicknamed “Lurch” — its concrete walls housed outstanding performances by the Gravedigger V, The Tell-Tale Hearts, The Wallflowers, Personal Conflict, The Front and many others.
Sean McDaniels (inveterate troll of San Diego hangouts) recalls, “It was only open in the summer, and it was hot. We hung out on the sidewalk out front or in the park more than we did inside where the bands were playing. I remember there was a Chinese lady who used to yell at us from across the street.”
- Listen to “Paradise on Fourth Avenue,” the Wallflowers’ ode to Studio 517!
- Check out Personal Conflict bassist Toby Gibson’s 1983 footage of 517 Fourth Ave.!
The original building on Fourth and Island is still intact, located kitty-corner from the Horton Grand Hotel. I almost didn’t recognize it. New paint, new walls, the landscaping done in bamboo, it now wears the stamp of an expensive designer. Very “designery,” the San Diego Gaslamp has morphed to reflect a Disney Main Street style, no longer seedy and mysterious as it once was. Instead of a motley group of shady characters, we find a law firm? Solomon Minton, Cardinal LLP was very surprised when I informed them of their building’s sordid past!
— Kristen Tobiason
Steve Epineter R.I.P.
Studio 517 was the Tell Tale Hearts home base for a while and was always my favorite place to play. We rehearsed, recorded and played many shows there. The crowd was always diverse, there we’re no rules concerning what drug and drink of choice was brought in, and it was all ages (the perfect scenario). There we’re no bouncers, and I can’t remember there ever being any kind of fights or problems. One of my favorite memories is the cops showing up once during our set, Ray bounding off the stage to talk to them, returning in a few moments, and as the cops we’re leaving and saying into the mic “it seems I have a few books overdue”…. (we proceeded to finish the set at the same volume).
Steve Epineter was also our roady/sound guy occasionally, and had a “Rock and Roll High School” style music video that he planned to write, produce, and direct for us at one point. He was fun….
I remember his huge appetite for drugs and drink, he was a giant and consumed like one. Once we showed up for a rehearsal to find him stretched out on the ground by the stage (in the afternoon). We we’re thinking that he may be dead, and it took all of our combined guts to feel for a pulse. He was, of course, alright, and jumped up, rambled some incoherencies, and started setting up the PA.
Studio 517 also holds the distinction for me as being one of the only clubs in San Diego we weren’t 86’d from at some point for drunkeness and destruction of sound equipment. “86’d” wasn’t in the dictionary. Also it reminds me of the old Gaslamp with all it’s idiosyncrazies. Like people boxing with parking meters and late night record stores (I remember once being paid $8.00 after playing 517, walking 3 doors down and buying a Ray Charles record and then a bean and cheese burrito and being very satisfied with my investments).
I remember Mike Stax had a great story about saving our 4 track reel to reel tapes from Steve’s back office, but I can’t remember the details.
Eric: We’ve heard tell of audio and videotapes in Mr. Epeneter’s collection … Do you think Mike Stax might have insights into what became of them? Ray is pessimistic they survived after Steve’s passing, but hope springs eternal.
Anybody else, feel free to chime in — this stuff would be GOLD!
Ahhh shoot- Steve, “The Giant”, as we referred to him occassionally. He was the only person I ever saw best Lloyd Masing (Personal Conflict) in a physical match. Lloyd was a little buzzed and feeling his youth and was playing around with Steve. Things escalated to the point where things were a little more serious than anyone intended, and Steve literally picked Lloyd up and threw him- and Lloyd wasn’t a little guy! Of course those guys being who they were, after a minute or two passed they had a beer and were friends again. I suppose there really wasn’t any other option.
On another note- it must have been cut off or is on another reel that I didn’t include, but Claude Coma’s motorcycles driving through Studio 517 was on the tail end of one of my super 8 reels. That was 1983, so it must have been a repeat performance.
This is great.. Kristan, you’re doing a great job of documenting these places! That’s so funny that you went in and took photos…what were their reactions to that? The park looks pretty much the way I remember it.
I had a lot of great times there though… the Halloween shows going on at both places was a blast.
I wouldn’t say there were never problems at 517. One show I remember with the Rockin’ Dogs (after I’d left the band) there was a huge guy beating the hell out of someone in the doorway. I was already inside, but saw the guy on the ground, barely conscious… the other guy continued to kick/stomp on his head…I really thought he might kill the guy. It was horrible because there was obviously nothing anyone could do to stop it. Someone I knew actually tried to get him to stop and was about to hit him over the head with a piece of drum hardware, but (wisely, I think) decided against it. Some people managed to get the door closed to keep them outside.
That Halloween 1985 blowout (the Greenwich Village West edition) was Noise 292’s last stand. Our band was pretty askew, but it was a great night of music!
More forensic geography: Among the flyers provided to me by Hair Theatre guitarist Paul Allen is one for a Dec. 28, 1985, show at the Gaslamp Quarter Theater, 547 Fourth Ave. (with Penguins Slept from Orange County and the Society from LA).
I don’t remember this venue, which Google Maps tells me is on the same block as Studio 517.
Here’s a Google Maps virtual walking tour of the ‘hood today, starting with Studio 517:
View Larger Map
I recall one night after a show at the 517. I think the show was with Hair Theater, we got the bright idea to steal pink boxes of donuts off the back of a delivery truck at the Holsom bakery across the street. It was probably about 3 in the morning and there were four of us. I think Paul A. was our get away driver. We managed to grab about twenty boxes when out came the burly delivery drivers. Very pissed at the sight of us lifting their precious donuts they charged after us. We all managed to jump into the car and speed off into the early morning , laughing our asses of all the way. This was a completely stupid prank for me to pull as I lived just around the corner at Greenwich. I remember thinking it was just a matter of time before one of these bulldogs recognized me as wandered about the gas lamp quarter in broad daylight and then break my fingers with a hammer to make a point! The twenty boxes of donuts ended up at Pat’s place. I think Johnny Burkhalter lived there too. The next day when Eric B. and I dropped by for a visit what should we see but Chris Negro sitting on the front lawn hocking those donuts at 20 cents a piece.
I had one of the worst nights of my life at 517.
It was a Tell-Tale Hearts show. Halloween?
I was just a kid then and I had way to much to drink.
I don’t remenber much. I Do recall falling down some stairs after talking to Matt Parker. I guess I threw up everywhere.
I passed out in the bathroom while taking a piss. I was lying on the bathroom floor on my back puking and choking while a group of people watched.
A kind soul picked me up and pulled my pants up and took me outside and put me in the back of a truck.
I later came too(sorta) and I guess I thought I was still in the bathroom taking a piss, so I whipped it out and pissed on a group of people keeping on eye on me(most of them menbers of Jett Sett Scooter Club). For years after that people called me the big white monster for whipping my stuff out(there was nothing big about it). I woke up the next day in the hospital. The doctor said I had enough booze in me to kill three people.
Sorry if I ruined anyones night, i was just 13 years old .
Dylan: My elder daughter just turned 15 last week. After reading that story, I had to put my head between my knees and take some deep breaths! LOL
Nah, seriously … A lot of us were doing a lot of ill-advised stuff at a seriously young age — hell, we we were all seriously young then! But whether or not it was the most … wholesome … environment for a 13-year-old, it did seem like there was always somebody to help the youngest kids out of serious scrapes. Or at least to get their pants back on. 😉
I got taken home once because I was too drunk. I was at a party in North Park and I think I was about to get my ass kicked, and Lanette Phillipson saw what was going on and loaded me into the back seat of her car where I passed out. Woke up on her couch somewhere near Santee. Gotta love it when someone saves your ass when you’re doing something stupid.
It happened a couple more times after that. Steep learning curve.
Maybe the motorcycles in 517 weren’t a repeat performance. Maybe David Rinck is fuzzy on the date & you guys are talking about the same night. After all, I was 15 in 1980 and David was in the same grade as me; I don’t remember Rinck on a motorcycle in 1980. David, do you think maybe it could’ve been a couple years later that you were riding your Harley?
One thing that i fondly remember about 517 was that during the TTHS residency there, the Crossroads blues and jazz club down the street was still in business, and though we were too young of course to go in, I would get to hang out with these long time SD blues guys like Paul Kowie and Mike Fields , who would come down to 517 after their gig and jam at 517 until the sun came up. Sometimes older good drummers would come by, but those guys would say “Let the kid play.” I was the kid.
re: “not the mainstream countercultural stuff like punk rock, but the real deal like our scene”
David, would you care to elaborate on this fascinating aside in your post, because it hurts my brain to try understanding the comparison between a little regional music scene that embraced different styles of music (apples) with a global movement/genre (oranges).
Yeah, Dave could have actually been more like 1982. I’m a disaster with dates. Sorry. I started riding that motorcycle by the end of tenth grade, when I gave up my Honda Passport.
Hahhaaa “mainstream countercultural stuff, like punk rock” is a bit contradictory I guess, but I think what gave the SD scene it’s unique character was the melange of underground styles represented. It added up to a unique scene that had a character all its own.
I think Dave Rinck was specifically about the punk scene in San Diego at that particular time, compared to what we were all doing. I see the San Diego punk scene (at least at that time) as being more of an extension/imitation of things that were happening in other places. Our own scene, to me, was a much more organic and creative music scene that had more in common with the original New York and London punk scenes, where bands were operating on more of a gut instinct of what to do.
Local promoters at that time knew that certain punk bands would draw a crowd, and were a safe bet to book. It had become a mainstream thing. This is in contrast to clubs like CBGBs in 1976…where raw, undeveloped bands that sounded different from anything else going on were given an opportunity. Those New York bands, like us, had to make find the seediest clubs on their own in order to have a place to play. If most of those bands had started out in San Diego in the early 80s, they’d have been in the same position as a lot of us were.
It’s not just in retrospet that Im looking at it like that, either. Most of the people I hung out with back then saw it that way too. We were the real underground music scene in San Diego.
Wow! That’s quite a mouthful. Well pat yourself on the back for being the most original 80’s guys to rehash the sixties!
Most of the people we hung out with knew some of you felt like that back then.
I’ve actually never seen pretentious condescension come across in type like that before. Amazing use of language. BRAVO!!!
im a poser.
Y’all gave me CRAP for my Alice Cooper and Black Sabbath records.
I’ll never fit in. 🙁
We were totally cranking Sabbath (and other sundry dirthead fare) between the Dead Boys and the Misfits, no problem!
Of course then we’d play Otis Redding and then the Germs. I think we had a pretty bad collective case of musical A.D.D.
That’s how I always think of you Cricket, the penis piercing poseur.
derivative
I love that! One reason I ended up in the punk scene is that I had a really hard time fitting in anywhere. I got shit no matter where I went, even before I was a punk. At first it was pretty wide open- I got treated really well by a lot of the older punks- Terry and Chrissie, Terry Tall, Kim Hideous, SDSH, Jay Bogart, etc… When I went up to North County I felt totally welcomed when Lloyd and I rolled into town and met Max Brown, Kendall, Brymo, and Scott Tenneson and they were just like, “Hey- what’s up- let’s go drink beers.” Instant friendships back then.
I recall the first time we met some of the North park punks down in Mission Beach. Ted O’shea and I were riding our bikes down the boardwalk and here were like thirty punks drinking beer on the seawall just North of Belmont Park. We just stopped and hung out with them- I think I remember Mike Toler, Dogbite and Wendy Pyro, Chris Jarhead, Chrissie and Terry- don’t recall who else. A bunch of girls. That night our little punk world expanded exponentially- that was really odd. All of the sudden like that.
It was sad to see that dissipate as the crowd grew larger and larger, and factions began to form. To me the coolest part was that spirit of inclusion- if you didn’t fit in anywhere else, you were probably going to be just fine with the punks in San Diego. It was sad to see that disappear. I feel that exclusion and elitism had no place in punk rock- fashion dos and donts were for other people, pretty much anything went. When that happened, to me that was over- they had won, whoever they were.
I think drugs had a lot to do with the deterioration of the underground music scene in San diego, but that elitist “us and them” stuff only caused more friction.
Well you can’t lob out a big bomb like, “We were the real underground music scene in San Diego” and expect everyone else who was working hard at their gigs to pat you on the back and agree wholeheartedly. There’s not a whole lot of room for misinterpretation in a sentence worded that distinctly.
This part was especially sad on many levels:
“It’s not just in retrospet that Im looking at it like that, either. Most of the people I hung out with back then saw it that way too.”
OK, this is still hard for me to talk about … But in sixth grade, in 1975, ’76, when I was just entering adolescence … I was curious, you know … And there were some older guys I looked up to …
I studied pantomime. Magic, too. And I turned a few magic tricks at schools and nursing homes with some other boys my age.
Doug Henning, Shields and Yarnell — we performed every degrading act we thought the crowd wanted. I even had white denim bell-bottoms with blue piping and … God help me! … A *matching blue star* on my ass.
OK, you jackals: That’s all of it. Do your worst, damn you!
Matthew! I always knew you were a closet Mime.
I actually enjoyed seeing the rockabilly, mod and psychedelic bands perform- and whatever else you want to call whatever else there was. I just played in a punk band- it’s not like that was my entire self. I didn’t know anyone back then that was so one dimensional as to be equated to one label- I think that might have been kind of the point of the whole thing.
And as Kristen said- it got a little rough sometimes, and that’s too bad because it was more fun with more different people involved, and certainly it was more fun with more girls around. But as someone said way back on the early days of the blog in response to a sucker punch at a party somewhere- that’s just the way things were at that time. The sense of danger and the tension where you never knew what would happen next, and things would just explode instantly and then things would be back to normal a minute later- that was part of the draw, for me. The craziness and unpredictability, the lack of authority figures present at shows, the self regulation of the kids- that was decidedly an underground culture. Maybe we’re talking about different years. By 83 lots more kids were showing up and larger venues were necessary and the world’s worst bouncers West Security was being used- it was all different then, IMHO.
In fourth grade I wore a Laura Ingalls bonnet to school.
Kristen: We prefer the term “prestidigitator.”
Since Matt and Kristen are airing their dirty laundry- after I saw Saturday Night Fever I begged my mom to let me take dance lessons. Okay- the cats out of the bag.
I’m sort of dreading what Bobo’s going to confess. 😉
Amish girls make me all funny inside.
well…”underground” to me means “obscure” …or “not widely known about.” …and that summed our scene up pretty well. I never meant that we were more hip or had more integrity than anyone else…and I didnt feel that way back then either. My only gripe back then was with promoters who didnt want to know about what were doing.
Anyone who knows me fairly well knows that I have a lot of respect for any band in a local music scene playing original music.
And then me and my friends would rehearse the scenes from the musical “Annie” and perform in front of our parents. --
right after Matthew’s mime and magic act of course.
TOBY: I still have the Saturday Night Fever album (regular and sesame street versions)
Saturday Night Fever Sesame Street version: I would totally jam that loud out of my work truck to impress the hip hop kids with their boob-boom speakers!
What if you liked Joy Division or Killing Joke or Bauhaus? Were you just some depressed weirdo wiping tears off the toilet seat?
I support original music in all shapes and forms. Even bad bands that are originally “bad” are better than a perfect cover band.
I think that the Wallflowers were one of the most original bands during that time period here in San Diego. Others were just emulating.
Nowadays I like Joy Division, Killing Joke and Bauhaus. Back then I had a little mental block about some stuff- what I think we referred to loosely as “nu-ro” for a bit. But I always thought of those bands as the predecessors (though I really don’t know much about their histories) and thought of bands like Tears for Fears and Depeche Mode as the sold out radio versions that came later.
(guilty musical pleasure: I also like me some TEars for Fears when i’m feeling like some dark, suicide inducing music.)
eric, keep your pointy little index finger off my junk. i led a failed coup agianst the west gate elementary school. p.t.a., it failed because i have a tiny piercing through my poser privates & i was wairing a laura ingalls bonnet with matching joy division t shit.
>>>This part was especially sad on many levels: “It’s not just in retrospet that Im looking at it like that, either. Most of the people I hung out with back then saw it that way too.”
I was painfully aware of all the musical snobbery around at that time… I dont want to be accused of that, because I was anything but a snob about music back then. In fact, there was nothing that I hated more than that attitude in other bands and people I knew. We used to make fun of that attitude all the time.
My own band, for the record, was not exactly widely accepted by mod and psychedelic revivalists.
i find it kinda funy, i find it kinda sad, the dreams in which im dieing are the best i ever had.
I love that song!! Used it in my dad’s epitaph story, actually.
Here’s a quote that stuck in my mind for a few hours after I read it:
I remember we got rid of all the more violent punks that night by quietly telling everyone not to leave that we wanted to stay, then I made an announcement that the party was “over and the cops were coming to arrest everyone”. It worked!
https://cheunderground.site/?p=35
Not that it wasn’t true or was an unfounded act, but I remember a lot of that going on around some people an awful lot. The thing that stuck in my mind was the phrase, “if you can’t stand the heat, get out of the kitchen”. There can be any number of reasons why someone might or might not have been booked at that time. I remember being booked with Truman and Hendricks once- that was an odd combination. We didn’t get booked for a lot of shows- we shared the second and third billing slot with most of the bands in San Diego. My favorite shows were the Be My Friend Benefits where we got to play with nearly everyone.
I remember when Cliff Cunningham was putting together the Our Blow Out cassette, a lot of bands just approached him and asked if they could be on the comp.
>>>And I turned a few magic tricks at schools and nursing homes with some other boys my age.
I want to hear more about when Matthew was turning tricks…haha.
Semantics! Turning tricks at Nursing Homes is my new band!!!
Matthew has a flyer from the beginning of our band where we were kind of making fun of the snobbery thing. We’d played with the Crawdaddys at the International Blend, and didnt go over so well with that crowd…then played with the Paladins at a party, and didnt go over with that crowd either. So we put something like “R&B and Rockabilly!” on the flyer as kind of a joke… as though that would draw a crowd for us.
Dave Rinck said the San Diego Skinheads liked us… so maybe they should have been our “target demographic”
Nursing boys my age with holms!
Lurch was classic , it was a real blur for a few years back then but we had true friends…
stuck in my mind…ow…that hurts….
“I woke up this morning
On the wrong side of bed
I had a knife in my back
And I put it back in”
I have to say that when I first heard the Butthole Surfers my conceptions of “music genre” were obliterated (as were my ideas of time and space).
Seriously — if you’ve spent an hour onstage at age 11 doing magic tricks while a demented old lady shrieks like a seagull and claws at the air directly in front of you, playing a rock gig is CAKE! 🙂
Jason, tell Toby I wasnt a snob.
Dave: I don’t think you’re a snob. You just stepped right into it.
INTERNET BEATDOWN!!!!
Kristen T said: “stuck in my mind…ow…that hurts….”
Steak knife- hole in my head….
Oh yeah I’m a little put off by Dave and Matt turning tricks in nursing homes. What “hospitals” were these?
But the question on every rockin’ Dog’s fan’s mind is: Where’ in the hell is the Scott Slob appreciation thread?
Most under-appreciated musician in San Diego, hands down- and therefore more underground than anyone! 😉
hahahahaha. I’m seriously getting a tummy ache from laughing so hard.
matthew if your parents got your magic act on film you gotta youtube it! did you have a cape? did you wear the cape even when you weren’t on stage?
Matt M: “I’ll show you core!”
Danny “Danimal” Dean’s (Cardiff/Encinitas) famous last words.
THAT GUY reALLY lOST HIS hEaD!!!
Jason, tell Toby I wasnt a snob.
TOBY: Dave was NOT a snob. I was a snob! It was all that expensive toothpaste and snuff.
I was a toff.
Toby Gibson Says:
“But the question on every rockin’ Dog’s fan’s mind is: Where’ in the hell is the Scott Slob appreciation thread? ”
Yes!!!!! i have a pix of Scott with the DOGs. In other very important news that has nothing to do with the subject: For all the people who have too much Info in their brain: Scott Slob tattooed the smiley face on my hand in ’81. Bobo tattooed the snake up my leg!!!! Every thing Toby did to me was discrete.
Please Jason, no more talk of nursing homes.
This could very easily become a punk rock nursing homepage. 😉
I never did anything to Jason that I wouldn’t also do to Bobo or my household pets (Though Bobo and Jason never required peanut butter.)
Do you think this blows my security clearance?
It was hard to appreciate Scott when he was telling you how he’d rather be playing in a band like 5051.
I think Scott was in the band when we played at one of Jason’s parties and Sam knocked half the equipment over before we’d finished the third song.
Jason, you have pics of us with Scott? I wanna see…
I wanted to be in a band like 5051. 5051 were pretty epic. They really seemed like they had their shit together.
Yeah, but I’ll bet you weren’t constantly saying that to the people in your band…while stealing their work uniforms out of their cars. My Exxon shirts were a staple of his wardrobe at the time.
wow…me, Todd, Jason and now Scott Slob… we’re getting very Poway-centric.
Poway was the epicenter once removed? God knows Ramona and Escondido faced challenges too daunting to wear that mantle. 😉
>>I was a bowling shirt kinda guy.
As Kristen pointed out, I favored a cape. My mother sewed it, and it included secret pockets so I could better startle the senile.
Matthew, you should wear your magic cape at the Noise 292 reunion!
i was looking for that bonnet & it was on your little mellon this whole time. silly public servant.
As long as we´re all coming out, I was vice president of the Magic Club at Marston Junior High School in seventh grade.
I think what I enjoyed most about 80-83 was that there weren´t so much a bunch of tribes with strict dress and music listening requirements, but rather a bunch of disaffected kids who didn´t really fit in anywhere trying to figure out who the hell they were. 517 was the embodiment of that--as Eric B said, the perfect scenario. There were always tons of people hanging out who didn´t roll with a particular group--they were just there to obliterate themselves.
Very few people liked to be identified as being part of a group. I remember going to great lengths to not let someone define me by a word or by a stereotype like mod or punk and hated it when the press squirmed to come up with a label to describe what they were seeing. In the early days, I had shit thrown at me and was beaten for being a “punk rocker” (HA!) and later on, with the same clothes I was called a mod. Anyway, at 517 nobody gave a shit. The truth is that we were all much more alike than we were different, and most of us were probably listening to the same records.
Have any of you guys ever been to the Magic Castle in Hollywood? I’ve been twice…I think it’s one of the coolest things in L.A. It’s a giant old victorian mansion that they made into a club for professional magicians, who perform there. It’s been there since the 50s or 60s, I think.
I Agree. After late 82, early 83 punk’s growing popularity took the fun right out of it.
As far as the difference between scenes, I guess that’s subject to interpretation. I’m pretty certain that nobody was too vocal about it back in the day, telling us (punks) how stupid our scene was. Because back then everyone wasn’t so polite and forgiving as they are now. Well- those of us who aren’t dead or serving time.
In fact, usually it was cowboys and jocks talking that trash. At least they had the balls to come out and say it. Fact of the matter is, we stood up and fought for what we believed in- right or wrong. We didn’t just walk around with our tails between our legs and sulk about it for twenty years
Wasn’t everybody here “a punk” at a certain point? I don’t feel like that designation was externalized in a way that anybody participating here woulda pointed and laughed, Toby — ’cause weren’t we all called punks at one time or another (by those cowboys and jocks, at least)? And didn’t most of us embrace it as a badge of identity at some point and on some level (even if we didn’t want it to limit us)?
This, btw, is coming from.a guy who never got a tat and never got around to cutting his hair until ’85! 🙂
But hell, yeah: In my head I was more punk than anything else — and I would have told you the exact same thing in 1980.
For me, “punk” is a superset of everything we did … And trying to marginalize it is a little like trying to swallow your own head! 🙂
Punk was many things to many people. Some people say punks was passe by the time the Bromley Contingent jumped on the bandwagon. Others say punk was over in 77 or 79. Then it was over again in 81 when it gained a larger appeal. Then again in 83 when the jocks shaved their heads and donned combat boots. And on and on. Sometimes I don’t even recognize it myself.
For some people it was hard letting go- they saw new kids showing up with spiked bracelets and painted jackets and it rubbed them the wrong way, and they didn’t like the change. Maybe they liked being recognized in their small scene, big fish in a small pond- that’s understandable. Some people forged on and stayed involved, some people dropped out and some found new paths, on to the next thing. Some people stayed involved gracefully, having a good time and enjoying what they could. Others were bitter and slouched around sneering and calling people posers.
For some that was their version of punk- bitter, sneering sarcasm. And that was fine, as long as they didn’t mind getting punched once in a while, because for some people punching sneering, posturing dicks was punk.
I assume a lot of the core Che Underground bands didn’t really like having us around because we were out of hand, getting into fights and being thugs. We were out of control. That’s just the way it was. I’m sure everyone was much happier when it was just the Fonos or SDSH. Tough shit. We existed. Cat’s out of the bag. Can’t turn back the clock. Believe it or not, a lot of people interpret that violence as part of the subculture- then and now.
But there wasn’t one of you that would have come up to us and told us that. You could sneer behind or backs and make snide comments from out of earshot, but the truth is you had to keep it to yourself, for the most part. At least until you had twenty years distance and the bad guys were all far away and you could write it on the internet.
We had a good time, and I think most of the bad guys doing the damage considered most of you to be part of the same scene as us. Because you were. You just played music that few people were interested in, which is why you didn’t get booked at shows. People weren’t interested in Country and country didn’t get booked at shows- that doesn’t make country more valid as an underground genre or scene or whatever. In 1980 you probably would have been booked at shows. But 1980 came and went.
Some of us actually were interested in your music, but any time we were around you in any numbers we felt a little excluded and felt a bit snubbed. maybe it would have paid off to not be so clique-ish and to put up with our bullshit. Probably not though. Our bullshit tore shit up pretty quick.
GET UNDER YOUR DESK!!!!!!!
😉
I was out in the parking lot putting transmition fluid in my car (with the engine running) and it started rocking back and forth… I was thinking “what the hell is wrong with it now?”
i,m thankfull i had personal problems. it kept me distracted. i never went to shows to see bands, i went to be part of the croud. to be part of the show. i didnt do well in the school setting and i liked to drink very much and do other things that made me feel funny. people for some reason were not nice to me at school, they wernt nice to me at shows either. i did have some realy great friends who had the intestinal fortitude to put up with me, john nowell, jason, alan clark, bobby lane, jeff lucas. pat dont count, he was kind to everyone, eric the red, i made him laugh and toby who had little choice in the matter, brothers of circumstance as it were. any how our thing was home to me. punk was kool till the mindset changed. sixtys punk aka garage was great in the same way. mod people dressed nice and had fancy hair but dident throw up enough for my liking and were to skinny. they smelld good though and just belittled me in liew of violence. i am glad to have these little glimpses of the joyious past.
Nah, I dont remember people in the punk scene being out of hand, generally. Mostly I remember them hanging out and drinking beer like everyone else. People always hang with their friends…punks included.
It’s just like any scene… pretty much anyone could become a part of what was going on if they wanted to spend enough time hanging out and getting to know people. And pretty much everyone felt like an outsider when they first started hanging out.
I think one possible end result of this blog is that maybe we could put together a family tree of sorts that connects all the various offshoots that came out of the underground music scene in San Diego at that time. It would have to be an ongoing project (I have no idea what format it would be in) and would not only include bands but the crowd that rolled with the band and their locale, the “groups” (fonos, SDSH, etc…), the zines and promoters. Somewhere along the line the venues come into play. It would also be pretty complicated because so many bands overlapped the various sub-scenes and shared members. But I think it would be pretty cool to look at. Like that one Oi! album that had photos of the bands and arrows to where they lived on a map. Only it would be a map of San Diego (and Tijuana) with a lot more stuff on it.
After all- it wasn’t really about the bands. It was about kids getting up and doing something.
It’d be pretty funny to include the specific cops. I remember a few of their names. 😉
Toby, I’m totally thinking about this cereal I grew up with called Freakies and all the little freakies monsters lived in a tree. If your vision comes with breakfast, I’m in!
I had Freakies. I built them a castle out of cardboard boxes and paper towel tubes.
I think this mapping project sounds hella cool … I’m going to look at some flow-charting software that might do the trick.
Dave Ellison: I scored one precious trip to the Magic Castle in 1976. At age 11, it packed roughly the adrenal power of drumming for Sky Saxon or drinking Johnny Thunders’ martini!
Matthew,
I saw Doug Henning’s The Magic Show on Broadway in New York in the mid 70s. Now I gotta check out the Magic Castle. It’s been on my to-do list for a while. A friend gave me a personal invite card some time ago.
Dean: Yeah, I caught Henning at that show, too. I was under 21, so he sneaked me in — and when he started pulling white doves out of his sleeves, he gave me one even though I was underage.
(No, seriously … I did go to that show — it was the shit! I woulda eaten crumbs out of Doug Henning’s ‘stache back in 1975.)
Matthew: I never could pull off those magic tricks. Not stealth enough.
I loved the gag tricks you could buy from the back of comic books. I got bloody soap, finger trap gum, hand buzzers….and these small explosives. I stuck them in the end of my dad’s cigar, which when he lit it exploded all over the living room, the end of it a smoldering flower -- like in a heckle and jeckle cartoon.
That stunt got me a serious whooping.
That’s pretty cool, IMHO.
Oh yeah, I used to buy magic tricks at a place in Grossmont called “Fun and Folly”. But the biggest magic show I ever got to do was at my sister’s birthday party. I had that finger chopper too. and a Svengali Deck!
i loved that place in grossmont when i was litle. howd you remember the name ? koolist place around to get my mask every october.
Would love to see a map/tree of how our collective blog brain segues from one topic to another.
Judging from all the closet magicians and ventriloquists here, we should do a thread about the vaudeville underpinnings of rock ‘n’ roll. (Penn and Teller have already thought this through, I can tell — they’re awesome, and Penn’s been a big backer of Jad Fair and other underground musicians.)
Thesis: The Marx Bros. influenced the Ramones as much as the Beatles did. (The Marx Bros. influenced the Beatles, too.) Early in his career, Dylan was channeling Chaplin’s Tramp as well as Woody Guthrie. And there’s a reason Iggy named his band the Stooges!
You may have something there Matthew, one of my biggest inspirations has always been “your mama” jokes.
Actually, I think I read that the Stooges really were named after the Three Stooges.
Okay I confess, I too performed magic as a youngun’. I performed at kids birthday parties and even once on my dad’s ship(navy brat). And yes Dave I have been to the magic castle. I like how it feels like there’s always someone staring at you from the pictures hanging above the bar. Also you’ll noticed I said, “I performed magic”. Go ahead Matt and Dave, have at it! My heads in the proverbial magician’s guillotine!
Ooooh! Back to the ostensible purpose of this thread, here’s a 1983 photo by Harold Gee of his $75/month apartment at 517 Fourth Ave.
“It adjoined a big room … which was a rehearsal studio for bands…so sometimes there’d be bands jacked up on amphetamines playing at high volume all night long,” Harold writes. “Made it difficult to sleep if you weren’t really really tired.”
Even more so in 1983 dollars, $75 month was a complete and total ripoff. This was not a “room”, mind you, but one of a couple of tiny office spaces that were essentially made of drywall. The other office space is the one where Steve retired to . . .um . . .prepare for our arrival to practice several times a week. I’m assuming that we were the primary jacked band of which Harold Gee speaks.
Hey, it didn’t start out at 75 bucks a month…they jacked the rent up from fifty a few months after I moved in. It was a big interior space, and one of the things I enjoyed doing when no one was around was riding my bicycle around on the smooth concrete, enjoying the quiet and my solitude.
With the goodwill being just a block away, I had a steady source for records, and I always had a few new 45’s and LP’s to play. One evening, when I was there alone, I had my old-timey portable record player set up in the middle of the floor in the big room. It was a quality old unit, with electronic tubes…a “Voice of Music” brand. I’d decided to listen to my favorite 45’s, and just out of curiousity, I plugged the PA system into my little old portable record player. It was amazingly loud…incredible! After awhile, inbetween records, there was a loud intimidating knock on the door. I quickly unplugged the PA, threw the cable aside, and walked to the door trying to make my footfalls sound like Epeneters in case there was trouble (I’d done this before, and apparently the word was out, because when I’d get to the door sounding like the big guy, I’d open it and no one would be there). But this time it was the cops…”We had a noise complaint”. “Really?” I said innocently, well, I’ve been playing a few of my old 45rpm records, but I can’t imagine I’d be bothering anyone…and I invited them in. I sat on the floor next to my little old record player and my pile of 45’s, and set the needle on the groove. Probably some girl group from the early sixties…I used to like that period of music. The cops looked at each other quizzically and looked at me and my little record player. None of us could really figure an explanation for the complaint, and they left after a few minutes. As soon as they were out of earshot I laughed my ass off.
Harold Gee!!! Wow, I’m glad you’re here. 🙂
That’s a great story Harold! It’s funny to think that probably not even 100 yards away I was blasting cruddy old 45’s on an old cheapo record player maybe simultaneously at Greenwich down the street! Hey this reminds me of those “bobby cop” outfits some of the cops would wear. Does anyone remember those?
Zoe Poore’s mom’s boyfriend was one of those. Cool guy.
I’m Angelo Victor Mercure aka “Sonny Cisco”.
Many thanks to Matthew Rothenberg and David Rinck!
From the Carl Schneider Collection: