Gig report: Black Flag & St. Vitus 1984, & Punk Rock Today?
December 3rd, 1984. Long time ago. Black Flag played at this place called Casa Armijo, this little community center in Albuquerque's South Valley, a part of town known mostly for old farm communitites and latino families that had been there since the 1600s. I went with my good friend Darrell, we stuffed beers in our trenchcoats and milled around the dusty parking lot smoking cigarettes and talking to friends before the gig.
It was a weird gig. Casa Armijo had a big mural on the side of the building, one of those psychedelic chicano murals from the early 1970s that depicted a latino guy in a bandana clenching is fist to the sky. There were about a hundred hardcore punks outside; freaks in mohawks and black leather, some skate punks in plaid and ripped-up tee shirts leaning on cars and talking. Cholos in lowriders drove by out front. Someone had a boom box and listened to some hardcore, and those drinking kept their beers low and sipped them in secret.
We snuck our beer inside, and crammed into the cold hall. There were murals on the inside as well, more New Mexican in style, with scenery of New Mexico and paintings of churches painted on the stucco. We watched the band St. Vitus from far back, they were heavy metal and we weren't much into that stuff at the time. It was pretty loud, when I saw friends I'd just have to nod hello. There wasn't much for lighting either, just 4 white stage lights and the rest of the hall was pretty dark. I talked to some friends a bit between sets, darting out to the car for more beer and cigarettes.
By the time Black Flag came on the mood of the place was pretty on-edge. St. Vitus had made some people pissed off--at that time hardcore and metal had very distinct subgroups that didn't mingle at all. Hardcore punks were pretty intolerant too, at least the younger ones were. Black Flag were probably the most violent punk band back then (that I knew of), and all kinds of stuff used to happen at their gigs. The volume was incredibly loud, much louder than St. Vitus. The whole place broke out in pandemoneum when they started; squealing guitars and then a fast, violent crash of sound. Henry Rollins would start the song with a scream and then would hunch over, clutching the microphone with both hands, and continue screaming. He'd bob around onstage, holding the mic this way and every now and then would hurl a fist out at the crowd. There weren't many breaks between songs, usually one would end, then a squeal of feedback and Henry Rollins would say something to piss people off, then start in a few seconds later. By the end of the first song the band were drenched in sweat.
The slam pit was going at full-force. It was common in Albuquerque at the time for punks to swing one arm up in the air and thrash about like idiots, which I did with glee. There was always a row at the front of people staring at the band, and then just behind them a swirling pit of people crashing and jumping against each other. Thinking about it now, I noticed that in those slam pits (mosh pits), they always seemed to go around counter-clockwise, as one would in a skating rink. Anyhow, lots of thrashing and jumping.
At one point I had had enough and went to the back of the room, bruised and sweaty. I saw Henry Rollins swing a hammer and hit people in the front row, saying "you're all a bunch of faggots, slamming like that... all hot and heavy...yeah, you heard me! You are all FAGGOTS! Fuck you!" and then the band started up again with another song. There were some people flipping off Henry Rollins, others spit on him (this was a punk thing in England, not so much in the States). It was hilarious and stupid at the same time.
The gig lasted an hour, maybe, then we all spilled into the street after the show. A few fights broke out as we were leaving in the entranceway, a crush and lots of arms swinging above the sweaty crowd. I saw a big pipe swing at one of my friends and hit him on the hand, all kinds of crazy stuff was happening. The crowd pushed and then we all ran outside in a huge wave of people, tumbling all over the place. We made it out to the street to see bottles being thrown at us from the lowriders and punks throwing rocks back at them. There were a couple of fights in the parkinglot too, so Darrell and I went to the car out back, poped open a few more beers and watched the madness. Eventually the cops came and everyone split. Great show!
I heard later that one of my friends had a cracked rib and a few fingers broken, and one guy got his nose shattered. This was probably the craziest gig I ever saw in Albuquerque during that time.
About a year or so after that the scene started getting more violent and all sorts of "poseurs" started hanging out, starting fights and getting violent. The scene really died out after this. It sounds funny for Punk Rock: this violent, anti-social scene to be broken up by the same kind of violence that it fostered. The punks changed too, they got older and less interested in being so angry all the time. The newer punks were much more strict about the "correct" way to dress, and by 1986 is was definately a set style and uniform. They were also much more homophobic and angry... which to me was surprising because Punk was such a great music for all the outcasts, weirdos, and freaks. I was at a mall in Phoenix a few months ago (November 2004) and saw a whole gang of kids in retro-punk gear, mostly black. What struck me about this phase of punks was how pretty they were. These were good looking kids, albeit in black and pale. One kid had a Black Flag logo on his sleve, and I overheard someone say something about "...your 16th birthday...", which meant the kid was probably born in 1988.
For more info on that Black Flag tour, see Henry Rollins' "Get in the Van: On the Road With Black Flag," recently updated with new photos. The tour that I saw was the same one that was recorded later and came out on the record "Who's Got the 10 1/2?"
It was a weird gig. Casa Armijo had a big mural on the side of the building, one of those psychedelic chicano murals from the early 1970s that depicted a latino guy in a bandana clenching is fist to the sky. There were about a hundred hardcore punks outside; freaks in mohawks and black leather, some skate punks in plaid and ripped-up tee shirts leaning on cars and talking. Cholos in lowriders drove by out front. Someone had a boom box and listened to some hardcore, and those drinking kept their beers low and sipped them in secret.
We snuck our beer inside, and crammed into the cold hall. There were murals on the inside as well, more New Mexican in style, with scenery of New Mexico and paintings of churches painted on the stucco. We watched the band St. Vitus from far back, they were heavy metal and we weren't much into that stuff at the time. It was pretty loud, when I saw friends I'd just have to nod hello. There wasn't much for lighting either, just 4 white stage lights and the rest of the hall was pretty dark. I talked to some friends a bit between sets, darting out to the car for more beer and cigarettes.
By the time Black Flag came on the mood of the place was pretty on-edge. St. Vitus had made some people pissed off--at that time hardcore and metal had very distinct subgroups that didn't mingle at all. Hardcore punks were pretty intolerant too, at least the younger ones were. Black Flag were probably the most violent punk band back then (that I knew of), and all kinds of stuff used to happen at their gigs. The volume was incredibly loud, much louder than St. Vitus. The whole place broke out in pandemoneum when they started; squealing guitars and then a fast, violent crash of sound. Henry Rollins would start the song with a scream and then would hunch over, clutching the microphone with both hands, and continue screaming. He'd bob around onstage, holding the mic this way and every now and then would hurl a fist out at the crowd. There weren't many breaks between songs, usually one would end, then a squeal of feedback and Henry Rollins would say something to piss people off, then start in a few seconds later. By the end of the first song the band were drenched in sweat.
The slam pit was going at full-force. It was common in Albuquerque at the time for punks to swing one arm up in the air and thrash about like idiots, which I did with glee. There was always a row at the front of people staring at the band, and then just behind them a swirling pit of people crashing and jumping against each other. Thinking about it now, I noticed that in those slam pits (mosh pits), they always seemed to go around counter-clockwise, as one would in a skating rink. Anyhow, lots of thrashing and jumping.
At one point I had had enough and went to the back of the room, bruised and sweaty. I saw Henry Rollins swing a hammer and hit people in the front row, saying "you're all a bunch of faggots, slamming like that... all hot and heavy...yeah, you heard me! You are all FAGGOTS! Fuck you!" and then the band started up again with another song. There were some people flipping off Henry Rollins, others spit on him (this was a punk thing in England, not so much in the States). It was hilarious and stupid at the same time.
The gig lasted an hour, maybe, then we all spilled into the street after the show. A few fights broke out as we were leaving in the entranceway, a crush and lots of arms swinging above the sweaty crowd. I saw a big pipe swing at one of my friends and hit him on the hand, all kinds of crazy stuff was happening. The crowd pushed and then we all ran outside in a huge wave of people, tumbling all over the place. We made it out to the street to see bottles being thrown at us from the lowriders and punks throwing rocks back at them. There were a couple of fights in the parkinglot too, so Darrell and I went to the car out back, poped open a few more beers and watched the madness. Eventually the cops came and everyone split. Great show!
I heard later that one of my friends had a cracked rib and a few fingers broken, and one guy got his nose shattered. This was probably the craziest gig I ever saw in Albuquerque during that time.
About a year or so after that the scene started getting more violent and all sorts of "poseurs" started hanging out, starting fights and getting violent. The scene really died out after this. It sounds funny for Punk Rock: this violent, anti-social scene to be broken up by the same kind of violence that it fostered. The punks changed too, they got older and less interested in being so angry all the time. The newer punks were much more strict about the "correct" way to dress, and by 1986 is was definately a set style and uniform. They were also much more homophobic and angry... which to me was surprising because Punk was such a great music for all the outcasts, weirdos, and freaks. I was at a mall in Phoenix a few months ago (November 2004) and saw a whole gang of kids in retro-punk gear, mostly black. What struck me about this phase of punks was how pretty they were. These were good looking kids, albeit in black and pale. One kid had a Black Flag logo on his sleve, and I overheard someone say something about "...your 16th birthday...", which meant the kid was probably born in 1988.
For more info on that Black Flag tour, see Henry Rollins' "Get in the Van: On the Road With Black Flag," recently updated with new photos. The tour that I saw was the same one that was recorded later and came out on the record "Who's Got the 10 1/2?"
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