Between The Sheets #1

Written by Kimber Wednesday, 14 January 2009 18:24

Welcome to the first installment of Between The Sheets, a blog maintained by the Colorado Music Board's resident Librarian, Kimber.  

 

 

Tales of a Punk Rock Nothing

 

By Abram Shalom Himelstein

Jamie Schweser

It is natural to want to be a part of something.  During our developmental stages, we like to have something to be a part of, to help develop our identity from.

  Perhaps you remember all of your terrible music tastes and fashion ideas from high school?  Can you remember the day when it suddenly didn’t matter to you how you looked or dress?  The day you started to think for yourself?

 

Well, I should at least hope we all eventually came to that day.  Sadly, I can think of a few associates who are still wallowing in a state of arrested development. Their mere presence in the world brings me to the first book in my blog series - Tales of a Punk Rock Nothing.

 

This book forced one primary question out of me – Does a person grow out of their scene, or does the scene grow out of a person? 

 

Tales of a Punk Rock Nothing follows the narrative of a young, Jewish punk – Elliot - who flees his hometown of Tennessee in a scene thick with themes of a post adolescent establishing himself in the world.  Elliot finds himself in the center of Washington D.C., jobless, living in a communal household that is populated by vegans, Riot Grrrls and everything else that was questionably great about the late 80’s, early 90’s hardcore punk scene in Washington D.C.  This happens to be one of those times where I’m glad there was a book that could better encapsulate the period rather than a video documentary. Yes, I understand the scene was important and lots of amazing things came out of it (mmmm, Henry Rollins – much better now that he’s going gray), but that doesn’t necessarily mean that anyone wants to remember what hard core sounded like.  Hard, fast, loud and over - quick.  No real need to go back over that one.

 

 

Elliot lives from one communist idea of a house to another, obeying a few concrete rules and figuring out the delicate manner in which a male punk would go about courting a militant Riot Grrrl. All the while writing manifestos loaded with whimsical ideas of taking down the established pillars of consumerism, sexism and democracy.  You know, usual punk stuff.    

 

Reading through this slim volume I could only help but wonder why the better parts of this culture didn’t stick around longer than it did.  The idea of the ‘zine has been left in the dust and hardly ever does anyone write a decent manifesto anymore.  Hell, finding an organization or a company that can put together a mission statement that isn’t fuck-up-able seems harder and harder to come by.  If I ran the world, everyone would write manifestoes before they started to do anything.  Nothing major, just a little something to remind them why they are doing it.

 

It upsets me that there is no personal motivation left in our society anymore.  We recently had an election and it was impressive to see more and more people at the polls, letting their voices be heard.  But for those who supported Barack without question or cause, it seemed they were all letting their hope for a future be placed entirely on one person.  One person they would likely never meet, never talk to, and never share an argument with one way or another.  I’m sure Barack will do some great things for our country, but when will people get back to doing some great things for themselves? 

 

There is a reason the hardcore punk music scene rarely made it to the airwaves – because it sucked.  Musically, it sucked, anyway.  No one actually wanted to listen to it; they just wanted to be a part of it.  In order to be a performer or a spectator or a consumer of the music, those in the Wash DC punk scene had to do it themselves (the DIY culture, right there).  They had to rig their own recording systems, reproduce it on their own terms, and find their own shows.  All of the music was more or less the same; all of it carried the same message.  But, again, it wasn’t done for the money or to be unique, it was done because the people involved wanted to have something to do with the experience. 

 

The fact that there was the potential for profit from it was all gravy.

 

After Elliot goes through the motions of the scene – moves into a commune, works in a socialist-minded bookstore, joins a hardcore band that tours (and, ironically, ends up getting a mention in SPIN magazine) he finds himself in a college classroom.  The fate that he was sure would end his existence, is now what surrounds him.  But one must question the reason that people of this lifestyle reject a formal education.  What wrong can come from bettering your ability to think critically, for yourself?

 

So many critics claim that the professors will spend the entirety of their classroom time being force-fed the beliefs and propaganda of their professors.  This is true, if you are dumb enough to retain your education entirely within the confines of the classroom’s sterile, white walls.  And if you find yourself at that point, then maybe you were better off living as an uneducated gleak on the streets.

 

On the crust, Tales of a Punk Rock Nothing bring us through the motions of the early 90s Washington D.C. punk scene.  But, deeper down, it is the kind of book with a relatable character that should make you wonder why you are doing what you’re doing.  And why you are doing it who you are doing it with. 

 

So, what do you think?  Do you grow out of your scene?  Or does your scene grow out of you?

 

 

Have a thought to share with Kimber on this read?  Share it over in the Message Board