Acid for the Children : A Memoir

But if punk rock means never having to say you’re sorry, in the long run that makes me no punk rocker.

The Argument—Fugazi

Sandinista—The Clash

Fugazi—Hollywood Palladium—uh…duh…,1993

Each time, I get a little bit better; less shit, more light.

I’d soon start hearing and going to see local L.A. rappers like Ice-T and the Egyptian Lover, but not yet. Music took longer to ferment then. A group of people would discover a sound that would stew in a slow burn, taking in the character of the neighborhood they lived in. The unearthing of new music was a deeply social, communal experience.

As the first piercing feedback sound of “What We Do Is Secret” flew into my earhole, everything else completely disappeared, casting a magic spell, the music having its way, reverberating through all my dimensions.

putting up with this shit so he could get his kid’s car going.

Never will forget the first time I heard the Weirdos doing “A Life of Crime,” it made me jump around in Sergio’s front seat like a caged monkey on meth.

There were foundational things about them I didn’t understand, and there was a part of myself that I had no room to express. There was music I loved that Lee referred to as “fag-noise.” Lee occasionally scolded me for straying from the FEAR ethos, not doing things exactly how he wanted them. There was no room for exploration.