Friday, April 12, 2013

Growing Up Punk: A Guide to Avoiding Responsibility, Reality, and the Reformatory



Childhood

[At it's best] punk represents a fundamental and age-old Utopian dream: that if you give people the license to be as outrageous as they want in absolutely any fashion they can dream up, they'll be creative about it, and do something good”
-Lester Bangs



          Pat "the Bunny" Schneeweis, creative mind, voice, guitar, and occasionally the only man, behind Johnny Hobo and the Freight trains, Wingnut Dishwasher's Union, and Ramshackle Glory, wrote "Maybe you don't choose punk rock, because punk rock chooses you."  But to say one is chosen by punk rock or born into it sounds way to pretentious for me to say with a straight face, and it would be very difficult to reconcile with the punk beliefs, such as well, freedom, if punk was some sort of exclusive club reminiscent of nobility. No instead I would argue that punks all come from a similar mold; we are of the same kind of disenchanted youth. Lester Bangs, a music journalist who wrote about punk when it was just MC5 and Iggy Pop and The Stooges, wrote that punk music was loud, aggressive, minimalist, and amateur. This is not only the sound, but the personality of a punk rock. While loud and aggressive are pretty obvious in the classic image of the leather and stud clad punk with a tall mohawk perched on top of head and middle finger raised screaming“Oi!” at a cop, the last two traits seem to be oddly applied here. However, punks are undoubtedly both minimalist and amateur, it just takes a little explaining (re:bullshitting). Punks are minimalist in their philosophies and lifestyles. Small government? Fuck that, no government! Anarchy! The D.I.Y. Lifestyle which started picking up with 80's further endorsed minimalism proclaiming that you should stop using the system to attain things and start making them yourself. Record your own songs, make your own merch, and distribute your own album. The amateur angle, on the other hand, lies in the root of the word. From the Latin amātur, meaning: lover, devoted friend, devotee, enthusiastic pursuer of an objective, amateur originally meant to do something out of a love or devotion for it rather than material gain. Punks are nothing else but devoted to anything they believe in, and the second it starts becoming about the money you've sold out, but more on that later. Lester Bangs is describing punk rock, and there is one thing that is omnipresent and crucial in punks . Punks are outcasts. We grew up as nerd, dorks, spazzes, and countless other grade school pariah, but became punks.
          My earliest memory is a single moment of my early childhood. It's like a photograph, an instant, a single frame, stuck in stasis, with no knowledge of what's happening, what has just happened, or why I remember it at all. But still in the back of my mind, as if burned in, there is this image of me at three years old in my pajamas and with my blanket, standing at the top of the basement stairs talking to my mom who sits in the kitchen. Ready for the weird part? I remember this from outside myself, like out of my body. When I see this memory in my mind's eye, my perspective is facing myself, as if I was standing on the basement steps looking at my younger self. I see the small brown child I once was complete with bowl cut. I see myself wearing some white pajamas with green splotches on them which I can't make out. I'm holding my Lammie- a lamb skin blanket my grandmother gave to me- over my left shoulder, clenched in my right hand about an inch below my heart, and sucking on a pacifier. What's always bothered me, is the expression on my face. It's not the carefree continence of a childhood filled with fun, as I remember it, but rather a searching look of confused sadness. My eyes are wide, slightly too big for my head still, and bordering on tears. For a while I thought that this was really just a picture in some dusty photo album that I had latched on to as a memory, but when I couldn't sleep, more on that later, I started looking through the photo albums, and it became obvious that there was no picture even similar to this. Maybe it's a manifestation of the mind, an undigested bit of beef, a blot of mustard, a crumb of cheese, a fragment of underdone potato, more mayonnaise then memory forming a convenient image of a Dickensian childhood, sad and authorly, deep from the beginning. Or maybe, and this is a long aside so sit back and relax, maybe it's something much more sinister.
           I've never met my “real father”: father is the wrong word, but “the jackass that impregnated my real mother, and the ran off” seems a little crass. I was adopted at birth, and have always had a relationship with my birth-mother, but my birth-father was never there, and never will be as he died when he was twenty-one. “My father's dead, well I don't know, we'll never fucking meet.” Now as numerically uninclined as I am, I can still do some simple math, and twenty-one, the age when he died, minus eighteen, his age when I was born, would equal three which would be my age at the time he died. Three is also the age of my earliest memory. So what if this memory is when I find out my real father is dead? I don't remember any specific moment when this was told to me, I just always knew that he was dead. Also, part of my memory is that I am talking to my mom, but in the image of my memory she is no where to be found; I just somehow know I am talking to her. Is she telling me that my real father is dead? How fucked up would that shit be? There is no way of really discerning if that really happened however, and as I said it very well could be complete bullshit. It's just conjecture really, and looking back, it really seems pretty conspiracy theory-ish. (If you look very closely at the pyramid on the back of the dollar bill, you will see a crying child, coincide? Or....aliens?) What's important, however, is that this memory is either an out of body experience, or a complete fabrication, and the very fact that I can't tell the difference, points to one conclusion. My grasp on reality has always been a bit off, to say the least.
           There's this movie called Fat Kid Rules the World, which is apparently based on a book my girlfriend read as a kid. Upon hearing the quick summery of “a fat kid gets saved by a punk rocker who becomes his mentor,” I decided that I absolutely needed to both watch the movie and read the book. The break down is this: an overweight high school guy, specified as 6'1” and around three-hundred pounds, named Trent is tired of his unpopular existence as an outsider decides to kill himself by stepping out in front of a bus, but is saved by resident punk and social misfit, Marcus. Marcus then cons Trent into starting a punk band with him in an attempt to take advantage of him, but, in the end, learns about himself. The movie focuses on Trent coming to terms with world and finding excitement and self-worth through punk rock, as well as Marcus's own self-inflicted exile through his drug addiction and anti-social behavior. It illustrates, very well, the connection between outcast and punk. Most punks I've met, including myself, were total weirdos in grade school. The reason, myself, my friends and even fictional Trent from Fat Kid Rules the World were drawn and captured by punk was the sheer excitement and interest with the different. The different is celebrated among punks, the weird championed. Look at the style of punk, the polychromatic hair, the painful-looking piercings, the disheveled and often times written on or patched clothes. It's all about being different, being original, being yourself. The extreme political radicalism, particularly anarchism, are a focused attack on a monoculture. It is a stance against the status-quo, a hatred for authority. "I don't know what's right, I just know that you're wrong."  The weirder you are, the more welcome you are. For the oddball of the elementary, middle or even high school classroom, it is an easy escape from plain-old freak status to some higher social level of freak, a cool freak if you will. This most certainly does not happen to all social outcasts, and even those with a scene in close proximity. This is because those who become punk are the kids that already have the traits of aggression and speed within them. I was a spazzy, ADHD, hot head who started listening to music that was fast and angry which turned out to be punk rock. A punk, usually as there are a few counter examples like Sid Vicious, becomes punk through the music band by band. When you first listen to punk, it becomes an addiction. I snatched up every punk album I could get. When I was twelve, I got my hands on Black Flag's Damaged and listened to it on repeat almost constantly for three weeks. When I got Choking Victim's No Gods No Masters, I listen to it for two weeks without interruption. When I got Against Me! Is Reinventing Axle Rose, I listened to it for a month, and then learned the greatest sin in punk.
         When I was younger I couldn't sleep without a nightlight. Like most little kids, I was afraid of the dark. Well it wasn't so much the dark as what I saw in the dark. I used to get there terrible waking nightmares. Sometimes they would just be arms reaching out from under the shadows, but other times they were much more extreme. I once saw a skull engulfed in flames bounce around my room from in front of my eyes. Chalk it up to an overactive imagination, or whatever, it just made going to sleep terrifying. I dreaded being dragged to bed and placed in a room filled with all the horrors my mind would create. If at any time I had to leave bed, to pee, drink, etc; it became a mad sprint to where ever I was going, running from the untold horrors that may be lurking in my peripheral vision. After a while, though, I started to find a way to escape my imagination through it. When I would lay in the dark, I started to imagine things, to create worlds in my head. I would create histories of fictional lands, and place myself within them, fighting dragons, flying through space, robbing stage coaches. With my eyes tightly shut I would imagine civilizations, and enter them for my nights. Hidden away within my own mind, the darkness no longer scared me, but it had its consequences.
          Over-night I had become a day dreamer, head in the clouds constantly. At school, with only my eyes, I would escape through a window, and out into a world of magic and mystery, and stare into my own imagination. The other kids noticed. They noticed me talking to myself in the back of class, or my friends and I skipping out on a kick ball game to play pretend, or how I would ramble on and on about pirates. Through the same mechanism that I killed my nightmares, I killed my social life before it even had begun. I was the freak that no one wanted to be friends with, too weird, too different. “I remember grade school and starting to notice, that I was the only kid sitting alone.”  I never really got bullied too much, luckily, but when I was I responded with violence. Once a fat kid named Andy made fun of my glasses, and I tackled him and called him fatty. Another time a kid stole my toy firetruck during indoor recess, and I picked up a wooden block and smacked him in the back of the head with it. In my world of imagination I was a swashbuckling space cowboy, and I would not back down from the occasional playground insult. I realized I was weird and chubby, but I was damn sure was not going to be made fun of for it. Try it asshole, I'll kick your teeth in.
         Against Me! is a punk band from Florida, and in the early two-thousands they seemed as punk's last glimmering hope after grunge had pretty much killed it in the 90's. Tom Gable's pipes were just the right mix of raw and melodic and the band had the rare ability to shift seamlessly from calm and thoughtful to rapid and angry. However, in 2007, they signed to Sire Records, owned by Warner Brother's, and released the abortion of a record, New Wave. Punks responded with hatred, slashing their tires when they showed up in town, and otherwise defacing the former heroes of punk, with good reason. They were the chosen ones. They supposed to destroy corporate rock, not join it. Balance the scene not leave it in darkness. They went from Unprotected Sex with Multiple Partners to former Teenage Anarchists. “Is there something wrong with these songs? Maybe there's something wrong with the audience. Manipulation in rock music. Fucking Nausea. I'm losing touch.” Against Me! serves as a perfect example of selling out, but why is selling out such a bad thing? Well, it goes back to the original formation of punk rock, where small loud bar acts would never be accepted by the major labels of the 70's which put out hit after hit of Arena Rock (all of which sounded exactly the same, like Led Zeppelin, but worse), and instead formed their own labels and distribution networks. To sell out is to turn your back on the very foundations of punk rock. This coincides with the previously mentioned outcast culture of punk. To sell out is to join “them” the normal people who never wanted you around when you were a nobody. It is to leave behind your abnormality, and often requires “adjusting to a wider audience,” ie changing your sound in an generic direction. It is a loss of freedom, originality, and strangeness in favor of cash and popularity. The fans feel abandoned, and in classic punk fashion lash out. These days, selling out is looming me. As graduation from the sophisticated day-care for adults we call higher education draws nearer and nearer, I realize that soon I will have to look for a career. I will no longer be able to scrape by spanging and depending on the kindness of others. My father suggests, with my interest in politics and all, I go into law. Which is just what I wanted, to live the rest of my life in a suit working for the system. I want to be a novelist, but that's about as practical as piracy in the modern world. I could maybe be a oil rig worker, but lawyer certainly not.
      From age six until about twelve, all I wanted was to be a pirate. I had countless books on the subject, a small arsenal of plastic swords, and once went to first grade dressed as a buccaneer complete with eye patch and hook, like I said I wasn't a popular kid in grade school. For me pirates represented the ultimate fantasy of action and adventure. Pirates were free to roam where ever they wished, engaging in sword fights and treasure hunts, and most importantly they didn't follow the rules. Pirates were outlaws and misfits, rouge sailors with nothing but their crew and their booty. When I fled to my imagination, most often I entered to a world of pirates and swashbucklers. They represented an even deeper desire of mine, escape. I could close my eyes and feel the salty breeze of the sea. Laying in my bed I could venture to the four corners of the earth fighting everything from British bounty hunters to carnivorous kraken. I was no longer in the boring suburbs of Cleveland, Ohio, but rather in the Caribbean of the Sixteenth Century. My anger could also be released through elaborate sword fighting fantasies rather than clocking some kid that called me four eyes, and I wouldn't even get in trouble for it. Piracy was what I always needed, an escape, an outlet, and a freedom, and for a while, I lived in this world of imagined buccaneering.
     Although I grew out of my pirate obsession, for the sake appearances by ten, I carried it internally until I was twelve when I was introduced to punk. I no longer need to escape the suburbs through an imagined rebellion, but instead could be really rebellious and outside of suburban culture. Music became the outlet for anger, slam dancing and screaming along were much greater sources of relief then fencing scenarios. And punk was all about personal freedom and freedom in expression. Plus if I went to school dressed as a punk people wouldn't laugh, but instead, gasp, think I'm cool. Truly I saw punk as just a modern form of pirate, eccentrically dressed drunken misfits who oppose authority. And like pirates, punks were criminals, well, according to movies and TV at least. Punks broke unjust laws, or stupid ones, to make a point or just for the fun of it all. Popular culture taught me that punks vandalize, shop lift, fight, and do drugs. Punks were the new and real pirates, and I was going to be one.
I wish I was a Pirate, I'd sail the open seas. Beneath a big black flag we'd go any where we pleased, and I wouldn't have to shower, but once or twice a year. When the gold ran low we'd loot on British Privateers. And the Alcohol would flow, every day the whole day through, and if we weren't passed out at sunset, yeah, we'd the whole night too. We'd all have pirate names, and we'd all wear pirate clothes, following the warm winds where ever they may blow. I told my old man my plans, but my pops disagrees. My father says he's gonna make another lawyer outta me.
By Tom Frampton

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