by Hanson Meyer
At the age of 16, I made the long trek from Big Bear Lake to Hollywood to
experience my first two punk rock shows at The Starwood nightclub. I saw the Dickies in December of 1980 and then again two months later in February 1981. After surviving these "soft-core" punk
shows, I felt like I was ready to take it up a notch and make my way to either a Black Flag or Fear show in the ensuing months. Spring had arrived in
1981 and my friends and I were constantly scanning the sources we had for any
shows coming up that we may, by some miracle, be able to attend. We listened to
distant radio stations and checked the occasional copies of the Sunday edition
of the LA Times Calendar section or BAM Magazine.
On January 30, 1981, I ran across
an article in BAM Magazine about the Black Flag show that had happened earlier that month at the Starwood on January 6th. The article was titled “The Black Flag Violence Must STOP!” We had just been
there at the Starwood two weeks earlier to see the Dickies and saw how the
violence had been ramping up even at that show…
Black Flag |
BAM Magazine - January 30, 1981 (Click to Enlarge) |
It was also at this time that I became the official “punk
rock barber”. Electric shears were too expensive, so I gave everybody their
punk haircuts using scissors I bought at a local beauty salon. I gave
everything from crop cuts to mohawks. Not knowing anything about coloring hair,
my friend Scott Boyd and I experimented with bleach and peroxide. The only problem
was that we used real bleach and peroxide and soon learned that your hair
dissolves when using household chemicals. After our first couple of hair color
disasters, we decided to ask for help at the same beauty salon where I bought
my scissors. They thought we were crazy, but they steered us in the right
direction and soon I was changing Scott’s hair color from dark brown to a sort
of yellowish-blonde. As our other friends got their hair cut, we started using
the bleach to create patterns and designs. One of our friends had a Mohawk that
was about two inches high that I bleached so that it looked like a raccoon tail
and with another friend we cut his hair on the back of his head into the shape
of a crucifix leaving the bottom of the cross long… and then bleached the cross
gradually from the top down going from dark brown to white.
(flyer credit Gary Burns) |
Once all my friends had joined me in committing themselves to "cropping" their hair, we set our sights on making it to our next punk show. Our minds were made up… We needed to earn our stripes by seeing Black Flag somewhere, someway, somehow. I can’t remember how we even found out about the show, but we heard that Black Flag was going to play at a small venue in Palm Springs called the Rumours Club during Spring Break on Saturday, April 18, 1981. Rodney Bingenheimer of KROQ radio announced on his program that Black Flag was playing a show that day... Here is a short clip of Rodney on the ROQ talking about the show: Rodney On The ROQ clip - April 18, 1981
My friend Scott Brett’s parents had a condominium there in Palm Springs and so we decided to drive down and make that our base camp. In addition to Scott Brett, my other friends, Scott Boyd, Mike Curtiss, Mike Schroeder and Eric Dakota decided to go and everyone piled into my green 1969 Buick Skylark and we headed down the mountain to Palm Springs. During the trip, we took turns picking music on home made cassettes and playing them on a small Radio Shack tape player that I had. None of us had too much money back then so we would always trade records and make mix tapes of our favorite punk rock bands. We all sang along with songs by the Dead Kennedy's, the Dickies, the Germs and Circle Jerks. It was early afternoon and the winds became very strong and were sandblasting us as we made our way. At one point the wind seemed
Scott Boyd, Hanson Meyer and Mike Curtiss standing in front of the Buick |
Once we arrived at the condo, we ate some food and geared up
for the show at the Rumours Club. The show was scheduled for the late afternoon
and was “all ages”. When we got there, we thought we were wrong about the early
starting time of the show because there wasn’t anyone around… The place was
open, but there weren’t any patrons, only the staff. We asked, and they assured
us that it definitely was the place and the bands were going to start very
soon. The sun was still up, but we went inside the dark club. The place was
very small with a bar to the right and a six inch riser for the band to set up
on at the far side of the room. It was like the bands had to play on the floor
with no protection from the violence that their music was sure to incite. A
small 20’ x 20’ dance floor with vertical 4” poles holding up the roof consumed
the open area just in front of the “stage” and the bathroom was located in the
far left corner.
Black Flag at the Rumours Club in Palm Springs. Myke Bates playing guitar in back on Left |
After the show was finished, the band started to slowly pack
their gear on the stage and invited us to hang out with them. While Robo was
loading up his drums outside, I remember asking Greg how Robo got his name… and
he, probably sensing my young and gullible nature, told me that it was because
they were so poor that Robo would drink Robitussin cough syrup to get drunk. The
guys were really friendly and once we were done chatting, we helped them
take their instruments out to their van. And then, just before we left (without saying who), a
couple of the guys in our group, trying to live up to all the punk rock media
hype, had scribbled “Big Bear Punks” all over the bathroom and broke a couple of
fixtures. We learned later that as a result, the club took it out of Black Flag's pay and they only made $50 for the night… I don’t think they were too happy about that. And then to add insult to injury, someone stole Greg's guitar that night.
Since it was Spring Break and the streets were filled with
people, we decided to walk around for the sheer shock factor. We really went
over the top in terms of dressing for the occasion... And then you add Mike’s
grotesque, swollen purple eye and bloodied fat lip, we were a true sight to
behold. Although most people just gawked and stared at us, we did manage to
talk to a few girls there. I can’t seem to remember what happened to Eric
Dakota and how he managed the pain of his broken wrist that night, but he
waited until we got back to Big Bear to see a doctor. We all made it back to our sleepy mountain community in
one piece more or less and didn’t stop talking about the experience of it all
for weeks. Each time one of us brought it up, we found ourselves reinvigorated and again chomping at the bit eager for our next show.
Unfortunately for me, there would be a few obstacles and my next show would be
little later than sooner… As it turned out, it would again be a Black Flag show, but it wouldn’t come until the end of summer vacation.
FOR THE NEXT CHAPTER OF THIS STORY, CLICK HERE
FOR THE PREVIOUS CHAPTER, CLICK HERE
FOR THE NEXT CHAPTER OF THIS STORY, CLICK HERE
FOR THE PREVIOUS CHAPTER, CLICK HERE
No comments:
Post a Comment