Greetings from Laurel Canyon!
Stranger from another planet welcome to our hole / Just strap your guitar and we’ll play some rock n roll / But the money’s is good / Just get a grip on yourself
It dawned on me a few weeks ago that 1977 was 40 years ago. It’s rather obvious, but for some reason it’s just finally sunken in. Honestly I’m in a bit of shock. ’77 was the year when punk rock and I came of age. I was 15 at the time—obsessed with punk rock 45 singles and pretty much bought every record of the era. Punk was more than just music. I listened to every lyric and read every “zine,” and I BELIEVED in every note and every word. I took down all my rock and Bruce Lee posters and replaced them with British punk posters I used to buy from Bleecker Bob’s—the Clash, Sex Pistols, The Buzzcocks lined my walls.
I remember explicitly embracing the concept of being 15 and being PUNK. I knew I had missed the ’60s, but “77”—that was my movement and I held it tight. I went to every punk rock show of note in New York City that year and the two after. When I visited San Francisco for six weeks that summer I went to the Mabuhay Gardens and saw The Nuns, Crime, The Screamers, Weirdos, the Dils, and The Avengers. I flipped tables, tossed chairs, and showed the SF punks how us New Yorkers throw a bottle at a band.
“No, you don’t throw it at the band, you throw it against the wall to the side!”
I have the will to survive / I cheat if I can’t win / If someone locks me out / I kick my way back in / An’ if I get aggression / I give ’em two times back / Every day it’s just the same / With hate an’ war on my back
Where did it all go and how could I be so… so, fucking old? Well the answer is simple—that’s life!
Digging thru my crates of singles truly energized me and brought back so many great times, shows, and characters. After all, aside from a Clash poster (that I bought from Bob’s) and a crate of records (many of which are in this week’s set) there is nothing that I still have from 1977! After 40 years, the only things that stuck with me are these vinyl records. It must mean something?
Weird looking at these Joe Strummer lyrics—I could almost substitute in 2017 and relate!
In 1977 I hope I go to heaven / ‘Cause I been too long on the dole / And I can’t work at all / Danger stranger / You better paint your face / No Elvis, Beatles, or The Rolling Stones / In 1977 / In 1977
Long live punk rock and the class of ’77! Let’s celebrate its spirit of rebellion!
