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The time I spent going from town to town punching Nazis: A roadie's tale. This is a true story. Part 1 Chapter 1 We're An American Band https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Zc_JcGuH5Z8 My name is Beets. For a while in the early 1990s I was a roadie for a really bad punk/hardcore/bent-edge/metal/stoner-rock/whateverthefuckelse band named Battle Cat. They were terrible musicians and drug addicted whackadoodles, but they were fun to hang around with and we got to experience some really hosed up parts of the underground music scene. The band had three members, all brothers ranging in age from 21 - 25. I sort of knew them from around town but we weren't what I'd call friends. They were biracial, which along with their choice of music, made them very much outsiders in our area. I could relate, as I'm a big Native American raised by two very loving but very white people. There was Theo, aka Poodle, the guitarist and singer. The drummer Anthony, better known as T-Man, was the oldest and an Army veteran. He's the one that got his younger brothers interested in hardcore/punk/metal; his fellow soldiers would share various CDs and fanzines and T-Man would send some to his brothers. Johnny Diamond was the bass player; he took his last name from the great porn star Debbie Diamond. T-Man and Poodle liked to wear weird hats or helmets when on stage and JD always wore a wig that resembled Mick Jagger's 70's hair. I can play guitar but only in campfire settings and the like but sometimes just for shits and giggles I'd sneak onto the stage with a triangle or tambourine and just randomly bang on them. The guys were usually so drunk or confused they didn't notice or care.  I got the gig as their guitar tech/roadie/manager by replying to an ad. I'm pretty sure no one else had even applied- I knew nothing about the trade other than tuning guitars and lifting heavy things but they eagerly accepted me anyway. I think part of it was the fact that I'm a pretty big and strong guy, and I was also open to doing most of the driving. I was just looking for a way to get out of the area and I thought going on the road would be fun. Battle Cat had its roots in a small southern town, not the place you'd expect to find hardcore punk music being made. Like a lot of bands they first started playing for friends in a garage. Their family owned a fair amount of land without many neighbors so they could be as loud as they wanted. I'm not sure any of them had any formal musical instruction but they were passionate about music in general and theirs especially. I recall they cited bands like Body Count, Sick Of It All, Minor Threat, Butthole Surfers, Slapshot, and Youth of Today as some of their influences. Poodle was obsessed with Jethro Tull. If Battle Cat had even an ounce of talent that any of those bands had, they would have considered themselves lucky. Their collective dream, for starters, was to somehow get enough experience playing live and become well known enough to eventually drive out to southern California and play with the legendary stoner rock band Kyuss at their generator parties in the desert. Johnny Diamond was the leader, a term I use very loosely here. He wrote most of the lyrics and shared musical arrangement duties with Poodle. Johnny also took care of marketing, e.g. flyers left on car windshields or stapled to telephone poles. Either JD or myself would take on the role of the band's agent, looking for venues willing to let us perform. It usually didn't go well if JD initiated things; I would often have to call the venue's manager to smooth things over or to even get our foot in the door. I was also responsible for making demo tapes to hand out. T-Man helped with that, but more often than not he was pretty much just there and generally useless. Poodle had a god complex and thought he was going to be the next Ozzy or Robert Plant and said he needed a lot of rest for his stage antics and voice so he was pretty useless too when they were not on stage. To my surprise once I started hanging out with them I discovered that they actually had a true fan- Leyna. She was super cute and funny and I actually liked her quite a bit. If things got too rowdy with the guys I'd shut them up and protect her from their tomfoolery. On the road, she would create art for the band to sell at their shows and would also keep journal entries. Leyna was in love with Poodle, why I have no idea, and he was oblivious to that fact. It was good to have someone like her around because the 3 morons that I had to deal with every day could get unbearably annoying and she would temper my rage toward them just by being around. It was about 3 months into my "job" with them before we ever actually played a show. It was at a local pizza place and there might have been 12 people in the audience. I remember a couple of pizza crusts and beer cans being thrown onto the stage along with a lot of loud booing. We played for about 20 minutes before the manager literally pulled the plug. He said something like "None of the rednecks around here want to listen to that poo poo. Can you play any Waylon (Jennings) or Willie (Nelson)?" Of course they couldn't so that was the end of local pizza parlor shows for Battle Cat. We played a couple of other shows in the local area, one at a festival event in a park and the other at a high school dance. Neither went well. Somehow JD had convinced the school principal that Battle Cat was primarily a cover band and could play all the current hits. From the opening note of the first song the teachers knew something was not right. I think we got through maybe two complete songs before we were kicked out. By now the band had used up pretty much all of the goodwill of the local bar and music venue owners, of which there were very few, so we were out of places to perform. We'd need to hit the road soon if we wanted to get any more experience playing live, not to mention the need to start making money. Up to this point we had been using their family's truck to haul us and all of the equipment around locally, but we knew that their parents would never allow the truck to be taken on the road. We all had small cars, so we would need to acquire a new vehicle. The guys convinced their parents to give them a loan of a few thousand dollars to buy one. That's when I found and purchased Brown Betty, the van that would take us into hell and beyond.
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Sep 2, 2020 04:12
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This is gonna be a long one, reserving this to post links to later parts! Part 2 begins here! Part 3 starts here! Part 4 here. The end is nigh! isaboo fucked around with this message at 03:20 on Oct 1, 2020 |
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Sep 2, 2020 04:19
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Part 1 Chapter 2 I Live In A Van https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=O23jdKwUe04 Brown Betty was awesome. She looked sort of like this van but the rear side windows were shaped like hearts.  She was held together by Bondo in some places, and had a roughly 6" hole in the floorboard of the passenger side. The front seats were captain's chairs but there were no seats at all in the back. The interior was carpeted throughout but it was worn and bare in spots. Over time the guys decorated the interior walls with posters of their favorite bands and Playboy centerfolds. We had a twin sized mattress that was as nasty as you might expect- covered in coffee and beer stains with several cigarette burn holes in it. Brown Betty handled really well and the ride was pretty smooth so I didn't mind driving all the time. When Leyna was around she rode shotgun and we were separated from the back by a beaded curtain so we could mostly ignore whatever the three idiots in the back were doing. We didn't have a lot in the way of gear, but we didn't want to clutter the interior so we pulled along a small U-Haul trailer that we also purchased. On each side of the trailer we installed a small plexiglass window that could be opened for ventilation. Sometimes Poodle would declare he needed time away to clear his head in preparation for a performance so he would ride in the trailer. Not the safest idea, but Poodle was not the smartest guy. Brown Betty got terrible gas mileage and would overheat from time to time but she got us from A to point B without too much hassle so she was dear to my heart and I took pride in trying to keep her clean and healthy. I was protective of her and only on rare occasions would I hand over the keys to anyone but Leyna. To gently caress with Brown Betty was a sin punishable by an rear end kicking as far as I was concerned. Our first real road trip of any substantial length was from Georgia to Virginia. The plan was to make the roughly 9 hour drive to the Richmond area to play at house shows that Poodle had heard about. House shows were great, because there was no booking agent to deal with and there were usually a lot more bands playing than at a real venue. Plus, it was generally easy to find somewhere in the house to crash after the show was over. There were plenty of drawbacks to playing houses, but we saw this as an opportunity to meet people in the burgeoning hardcore scene. A lot of people and bands were coming from Washington DC to share their music and art so it was a cool time to be in the area. That 9 hour drive took us over a week. Somewhere around Greenville South Carolina we had to get the fuel pump replaced. Not a big deal, but it delayed us by a few days. Then we passed through Charlotte North Carolina where I got food poisoning from a BBQ restaurant. I couldn't drive while sick and had to puke and poo poo in a bucket in the back of the van. T-Man and Poodle refused to ride in the van so they rode in the trailer. Meanwhile, JD was driving us into parts unknown because he was a jackass and refused to look at our road atlas and wouldn't listen to Leyna trying to navigate for him. We ended up in a very rural area with few things around but bars and gas stations. I was growing furious and impatient and wanted to murder everyone. Finally over my puking and making GBS threads, I checked our financial situation (The idiots never gave it a thought. Leyna and I were the only ones that realized that money is, you know, important.) and it was dire. We couldn't afford staying in any sort of lodging so we'd sleep in and around the van wherever we could find a secluded spot. We'd need to find some kind of paying gig soon or we'd be stuck. Trying to live with 4 people in a van is not fun when most of those people are morons. I usually slept on the floor next to Leyna who always (deservedly) took the mattress but I'd also sleep outside under the stars. The brothers would usually just pass out wherever they happened to be while drinking and smoking weed. We had a couple of coolers that were generally filled with beer but Leyna would always try to get something healthy for us to eat whenever possible. We had been eating a lot of canned stuff, mostly beans, so we were all pretty gassy and stinky in general. We spent a couple of days in the parking lot of an old and abandoned Wal-Mart and got chased off by the police. After that we moved every day to avoid any other encounters with the law. We were getting hungry and everyone was in a foul mood. After a couple more days of bickering and fighting and getting nothing done, Poodle walked off in a huff and was gone until the following morning. None of us knew where he went but guessed he walked to a nearby gas station to get some smokes or beer and either got lost or drunk and passed out somewhere. He came stumbling back and woke me up by pissing on the tree I was sleeping next to. "Wake up, assholes!" He yelled, banging on the side of the van and trailer. "I found us a gig!" "Uhh, what?" I replied, wiping the sleep from my eyes. "You found us a gig? Is it a paying gig? Is it legit?" Leyna and the others stumbled out and joined us, excited at the prospect of playing somewhere. "That depends on what you mean by legit", said Poodle. Leyna and I rolled our eyes, knowing whatever he was going to say next was probably going to be stupid. Poodle continued "I talked to this clerk at a gas station and told him we were looking to play and he said he knew of a bar that gets decent crowds if there's live music." "Yeah, but is it our kind of music?", said Leyna. JD interjected "Who cares!" T-Man joined in by saying "Yeah who cares. Let's play. We can play whatever." I was right. It was something stupid. I loving knew it. I was sure he lied and told them we could play stuff that we absolutely could not. I tried to tell them that no one in their right mind would pay us if we hosed up, and especially if we lied to them. But, I knew we needed to at least try. JD claimed he could probably get some cash up front and maybe a cut from the cover charge it everything went well. Poodle had taken a page from JD's playbook and convinced the gas station guy to put him in contact with the bar manager by telling them that Battle Cat was a cover band and could play the usual rock and roll standards heard in any bar in America. While that was true in theory, in practice it never worked because the guys were just not good at playing anything other than their own noise. I suppose they covered other hardcore and punk bands decently, but it was easy to hide mistakes in that kind of music, and these guys made plenty of mistakes. Knowing full well that no, they could not in fact "play whatever" because they were terrible, I just knew that this was going to turn into a shitshow. Pissed that Poodle got us a gig by lying, but also glad that we might be able to make a little money if the guys got their poo poo together and played decently, I begrudgingly went along with the plan.
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Sep 2, 2020 04:21
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Lookin forward to this one. Cheers
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Sep 2, 2020 04:27
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Cool Sex drugs and rock n roll (I think)
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Sep 2, 2020 04:43
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Spinz posted:Cool You're gonna love chapter 3
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Sep 2, 2020 04:45
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Part 1 Chapter 3 Sex And Drugs And Rock And Roll https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=sfp8xrNAS6I The venue was a hole in the wall. It was a roadhouse - a rough and tumble haven for bikers and rednecks where the beer and liquor flowed until no one was left standing, closing hours be damned. Seeing where we'd be playing didn't excite me at all, rather it made me nervous, but I was excited to maybe get some money in my pocket. I met the bar manager and introduced myself as the band's manager. He seemed like a decent guy but was wary of letting the band play unheard. Seeing an opportunity, I plugged in one of the guitars and started playing a little bit of Guns N' Roses' Sweet Child O' Mine. I figured something like that would go over well and might put the manager at ease. I motioned for Leyna to come over and she sang a little bit. She was actually a pretty good singer but was too shy to perform on stage. The two of us sounded decent together and we felt like the manager's concerns had been put to rest. The morons were out back, trying to play basketball with an almost completely deflated ball, not paying any attention to what was going on. They always had a very flippant attitude about everything, even when making money was the goal. It was around 9pm when the brothers finally settled in and got down to business. We weren't going on until around 11 so we had plenty of time to get situated. I made sure all of the equipment was set up, Leyna had organized a little table with some demo tapes, and the guys were testing their instruments. They all seemed to be in a groove and were generally doing what needed to be done at the moment. That didn't last long. People had started to arrive and the alcohol was flowing. The audience was already a pretty motley crew and were giving the brothers some dirty looks. I already didn't like how the night was going. Poodle and T-Man were well on their way to being buzzed, and JD was off in a corner talking to a woman and doing shots of tequila. About 15 minutes before we were to start playing I tried to gather everyone together and make sure they could keep to the plan. They were going to start with AC/DC's Highway To Hell then follow that up with Lynyrd Skynyrd's Gimme Three Steps. After that we were just going to read the room and had a few other songs to choose from. Those songs aren't too difficult for the average musician, but this was Battle Cat. I looked around for JD and couldn't find him anywhere inside. Poodle had also gone missing. T-Man was at the drum kit but was visibly buzzed. Leyna came running up to me and said that I needed to get to the van. I could feel my face turning red because I knew they were doing something stupid. Before I got near Brown Betty I heard the screaming and moaning. On the mattress, JD was banging the woman he had been talking to earlier while in the front seats Poodle and another woman were doing cocaine. I yelled at them to get the gently caress out of the van and onto the stage. JD tripped over his pants, fell to the ground and chipped his tooth and cut his lip open. He just smiled at me with a mouth full of blood, pulled up his pants and ran inside. Poodle snorted the last line of coke and followed. The women in the van were too hosed up to care that I was yelling and laid down on the floor and passed out. Angry but in a rush to get the guys ready, I tasked Leyna with getting the women out. I made the brothers chug a couple of glasses of water, splashed some in their faces, and told them that it was showtime. They seemed to snap out of their collective stupor and warmed up with a few short chords. Crossing my fingers, I was hopeful that the set would go well. Or at least decent. Or go at all. The beginning of Highway to Hell is simple. Dead simple. To rock fans it is instantly recognizable. There's about 10 seconds of guitar, then the drums kick in and the vocals start. Poodle strummed his guitar. SCREECHQSQEWEECCH was all that came out. Okay, I thought. That happen sometimes. No big deal. He tried again. Another false start. The crowd started booing. I heard "GET THE gently caress OFF THE STAGE rear end in a top hat!" shouted from the back of the room. The third time was a charm. He rocked out the opening bit, and T-Man joined in with the drums. "gently caress yea! They might pull this off", I said to myself. JD had not yet joined in with the bass. He was staring off into the distance. gently caress. I ran up behind him and kicked him in his rear end, and that got him going. One minute into the song... good. Two minutes into the song and no major flubs... great! Three minutes into the song and we were almost done! The audience was dancing and headbanging a little, and there were no more boos and nothing had been thrown at us so far. They finished the song and the crowd cheered and raised their beers. Someone yelled "Take us to Hellllllll!!!!!" Poodle answered back "Looks like we're already there. We're Battle Cat. Let's rock!" "Oh my god, this might work!", I said out loud to no one. The audience hollered as the guys launched into Gimme Three Steps. And then they crashed and burned. Poodle couldn't get the lyrics right. T-Man's timing was way off, and JD dropped his bass. He just dropped it for no discernable reason. They tried again, but started arguing about who was to come in when and how and blah blah blah and oh my god I was feeling my blood pressure rise. We had such a strong start and now they were blowing it. I started to walk on stage as Poodle began playing again. This time it wasn't a cover; I instantly recognized it as one of their originals. One of their very bad originals- Harbinger of Death. gently caress. The crowd looked confused and bewildered. It was very obviously not a cover they were familiar with, and it was very obviously not of a style of music they liked. The boos loudly returned with a lot of "gently caress THIS poo poo!" and "YA'LL SUCK!!" thrown in the mix. At this point Leyna had made her way back into the bar and when we spotted each other our eyes locked and we just shook our heads in disappointment. It wasn't going to get any better for us from here on out.
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Sep 2, 2020 04:46
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Part 1 Chapter 4 It Wasn't A Pretty Picture https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=DmNaBIHY66w "Play some god-drat MUSIC not this poo poo", someone shouted. The crowd was getting anxious and riled up and while the drunk and coked out band didn't realize it, I did. Of course one of the rednecks in the bar shouted "FREEBIRD!!! PLAY FREEBIRD!!". Poodle said something like "I know ya'll will like this one, a little number called Stairway to Heaven". I thought "Oh god no please don't even try" Poodle nailed his part of the intro. I was gobsmacked. He played it really well, but I just knew there was no way he could keep it up for an 8 minute song. And I was right. He missed the first verse, and T-Man was completely zoned out and not paying attention. This was it. This was going to set off the crowd; I could feel it. A beer can flew onto stage. A beer bottle hit T-Man's drum kit. The crowd was booing and yelling louder than ever and the manager started to walk down the stairs from his office. The guys continued playing, butchering the song. The main door to the roadhouse opened and as soon as I saw the men enter, I knew things were about to get really hosed up. There were about 4 or 5 guys dressed in motorcycle club gear and the first thing I noticed was a goddamn swastika on their vests. One of them turned around so I could see the "Blood And Honor MC" patch on his back. Welp, gently caress. That didn't seem like a Sunday-go-to-church kind of motorcycle club, what with the Nazi symbolism and all. On top of that, I was certain one of the bikers was the cop that had told us to move our van a few days prior. It felt like a safe exit was not in our future. I called Leyna over, handed her the keys to the van and told her to go outside and unhook the trailer from Brown Betty, and move as much of whatever was in the trailer into the van. If we had to make a fast getaway I didn't want to be slowed by extra weight. We could always sneak back and get it later or just leave the thing behind. Battle Cat kept playing, oblivious to the danger that was now present. The bikers were eyeballing us pretty intently and I could read all sorts of racial slurs on their lips. A couple of them exited the bar and I knew that was a bad sign. They were probably going to get something with which to beat us or shoot us or who knows what. The manager joined the bikers inside and the bartenders were distracted so I took the opportunity to swipe the contents of a tip jar. I don't like stealing, but we were going to need some funds if we were going to get far enough away from this place. I got $18. A couple of minutes later Leyna came in the back door and said "We need to get the gently caress out of here, now. NOW." "What was going on outside?", I asked. Leyna replied that the two bikers outside painted a swastika on the trailer and were doing something to Brown Betty. On top of the racism, the lovely crowd, and just the general absurdness of the night, they were beating up my sweet, sweet Betty. I was livid. You do not gently caress with a man's ride. I pulled every plug to every piece of equipment I could see and told the guys to take their stuff and get to the van. T-Man asked "What about the drums" and I said "gently caress the drums. Get out now." I ran outside and as I turned the corner to the front parking lot I could see the two Nazi shitbags trying to kick and pull the side mirrors off. I don't remember exactly what I yelled but it got their attention and they turned to face me. One of them got a huge grin on his face and said "Looky what we have here. A big ol'..." Before he could finish his sentence I kicked him square in his chest. He stumbled back and broke off the mirror which was already dangling. There's no turning back now, I thought. Game on. It's time to kick some Nazi rear end. isaboo fucked around with this message at 05:28 on Sep 2, 2020 |
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Sep 2, 2020 05:24
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This is dope.
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Sep 2, 2020 07:31
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Just started reading but I’m loving it and I might be crazy but I feel like I remember a band named Battle Cat. Did you ever play NYC? I’m trying to jog my memory here. E- I love Brown Betty Snowy fucked around with this message at 07:45 on Sep 2, 2020 |
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Sep 2, 2020 07:42
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Plus here’s a good nazi punching story from metal thread favorites Bolt ThrowerKarl Willets posted:Here's my account of the NJ Riot... It is a memorable point in the history of Bolt Thrower...
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Sep 2, 2020 07:48
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Snowy posted:Just started reading but I’m loving it and I might be crazy but I feel like I remember a band named Battle Cat. Did you ever play NYC? I’m trying to jog my memory here. Nope, we never made it to NYC. Our journey ended before we got that far.
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Sep 2, 2020 19:51
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Part 1 Chapter 5 War Zone https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=KK_is2OIESU I've been a fighter since I was 13 when I took my first karate class like every other 80s teen who wanted to be a ninja, and my passion for martial arts continues today 35 years later. I was 22 at this point, and I had some professional muay Thai and boxing matches under my belt. I love fighting. But I hate fighting when I have to fight. I'd much rather find a peaceful solution but gently caress, man, these were Nazis. The only good Nazi is a dead Nazi. I certainly didn't want to kill anyone, but knocking a racist unconscious feels amazing and I was down for that. The Nazi I kicked was on the ground coughing when his buddy took a swing at me. I slipped his attempt and punched him right in his nose. He stumbled back, tripped over the guy on the ground, and I took that opportunity to kick him while he was off balance. I kicked him in the ribs again. The one on the ground grabbed my ankle and as I tried to get loose I fell on my back. Looking to the side I saw the three brothers coming. Reinforcements had arrived! Unfortunately, the Nazi backups were making their way outside too. T-Man wasted no time and charged forward, intercepting and tackling the Nazi that was heading for me. I got up and started swinging at the closest one. I was hit from the side by someone else and then found myself grappling with them while pressed against Brown Betty. Poodle was swinging his guitar around like a literal axe, going for the head of whatever racist rear end in a top hat was in front of him. JD was also getting into the mix, swinging his arms wildly like a windmill but successfully keeping any attackers at bay. Leyna was on the other side of Brown Betty unhooking the trailer. By now most of the bar was spilling out into the parking lot to see the fight. It was becoming pretty intense; I had a bloody mouth, I was pretty sure I had fractured knuckles and a cracked rib, and I was getting tired. T-Man was on a rampage, fighting a couple of guys pretty well but he too was taking a lot of punishment for it. I managed to get free of the Nazi I was grappling with and knocked his rear end out. Leyna got inside Brown Betty and started her up and opened the side doors, and yelled for JD and Poodle to get in. A deep, angry, loud voice yelled "NO BLOOD NO HONOR!". When I turned to the source I saw what I assumed to be the leader of the motorcycle club, and he had a knife in his hand. He squared off with me and I scrambled back to maintain some distance between us. He was slashing the knife around and began passing it from one hand to another, then feigned stabs to my gut to get me to react. I heard Leyna yell something and saw her jump out of the side of the van. "BANG!" She was standing there with a handgun pointed to the sky and shot off another round. Everyone stopped. "GET IN THE loving VAN" she yelled at us, and to everyone else she yelled "BACK THE gently caress OFF". We all did as she said. The Nazis backed off enough for everyone to jump into Brown Betty. T-Man got into the driver's seat, put her into reverse and backed into the trailer which collided with one of the motorcycles, knocking it over. Another shot was fired but this time it wasn't from Leyna's gun. T-Man got us moving forward and we raced out of the parking lot, ignoring the entrance and running over the curb. We were all screaming and breathing hard and shaking. I heard one of the Nazis yell "THIS AINT OVER WE'LL FIND YOU YOU CANT HIDE!". We hauled rear end down the road and when I looked back I didn't see any of them attempting to follow us. We got a few miles away and parked behind a closed restaurant. T-Man was sitting in the driver's seat, his head on the steering wheel, muttering something to himself. Then he spoke to us as he pulled back onto the road. "gently caress this. I got an idea." "Uhh, T-Man, uh, what are you doing??" I said as we headed back in the direction of the bar. "There's something at the Wal-Mart that I need", he replied. We were all confused because the store was closed, and we hadn't been in the parking lot in a few days when we got chased off by the cop. T-Man pulled into the parking lot, drove to the spot where we had been camping, jumped out to get something and then got back in the driver's seat. He had the bucket of my poo poo and puke. The bucket of foulness had been sitting in the hot summer sun for days. We all just looked at each other, knowing full well what he had in mind, and we all nodded in agreement. The bucket was maybe 1/3 full so we all took turns pissing in it to add a little more flavor. It was an unbearable stench. We waited around for about 30 minutes and drove closer to the roadhouse. I hopped out about a 1/4 mile away and ran along the tree line until I was close enough to scout the parking lot. There were a couple of people outside, but I didn't recognize them from earlier in the night. All of the motorcycles were still there with the helmets casually sitting on the seats. I went back to the van and told them the coast was clear. We passed the bar and turned around so that the large side doors of the van would open toward the parking lot. It was my poo poo and puke so I demanded to be the one that would do the dirty deed. T-Man slowed down as we approached, Leyna opened the doors and I jumped out with the bucket in hand. I ran as fast as I could without spilling the mess all over myself and headed straight for the bikes. I crouched down and went to each one, pouring a little into the helmets and into each tank. I was just about to remove the gas cap on the last bike to pour some in the tank when someone outside noticed me. I quickly took the remaining crap and spread it over each seat while running back to the van. Once I was in the van I looked back and saw that the Nazis were coming out of the bar and moving toward their bikes. I really wanted to stay and see their reaction but we wisely got the hell out of there again and drove on. We continued on in whatever direction we were already heading, not bothering to even look at the road atlas. The plan was to get as far as we could on the little gas we had remaining, use the money I stole to get more, and get as far away as possible as quickly as possible. "Not a bad first show on the road. It could have gone worse" JD jokingly said. While I filled up with gas, T-Man called their parents. It was embarrassing for the brothers, to have to call Mom and Dad, but we didn't know what else to do. We had just encountered literal Nazis, we were completely broke, and we had no other option. T-Man explained what happened and asked them to wire us some money. After arguing with him for a while, the parents agreed to send money on the condition that we either succeed or fail completely on our own from that point onward; they would not help any more. We all wanted to find success ourselves anyway, so the terms of the deal were fine with us. We lost a lot of equipment so a good portion of the money would have to go toward buying some new gear. We had to leave behind the drum kit, amplifiers, cables, and a few other things. All we had left was the guitar, JD's bass, some random cables and a couple of spare amps. We decided to see how long we could delay getting a new drum set, and instead rely on the good graces of other bands and hope they'd let us use theirs for our set. The next day we picked up the money and found a decent motel to stay at for a couple of days. We got cleaned up, bought some food to take with us, and then headed north to the Virginia border. [end part 1. it will be a while before I can post part 2] isaboo fucked around with this message at 20:03 on Sep 2, 2020 |
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Sep 2, 2020 19:52
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Man what a risk to nuke their bikes that way. I know how fearless you can be when you are young though... Gross as hell
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Sep 2, 2020 21:27
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WORTH THE WAIT
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Sep 3, 2020 01:44
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god does this make me miss being 19 and completely loving psycho
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Sep 3, 2020 02:29
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You wouldn't happen to have a copy of Harbinger of Death would you?
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Sep 3, 2020 02:43
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Jose Oquendo posted:You wouldn't happen to have a copy of Harbinger of Death would you? Crazy timing! I was just about to post what I remember of the lyrics. You've gotta imagine it being sung in the cookie monster death metal style. This isn't exact but it it's what I can remember. It went a little something like this.... HARBINGER OF DEATH by Poodle Through the dark stale air he hunts for you And does not care if you flee or run He's seen your deeds Deadly and vile You have sinned since you were a child IN THE WOMB OF HATE <----- you really have to slow down and growl these lines The dealer of death The sealer of fates Will even the score Your life will be NO MORE The hour of reprisal Is close at hand The harbinger of death SCORCHES THE LAND Your body is ripped TORN AND SHRED Thoughts of fear FILL YOUR SPLITTING HEAD Your blood is cold Running red and deep He has you at his mercy YOU'RE AT HIS FEET The dealer of death The sealer of fates Will even the score Your soul will not rest FOREVER MORE You see your own soul You see your own lies Chaos running rampant AS YOU STARE IN HIS EYES The harbinger says As he puts you to death "OTHER LIVES YOU HAVE TAKEN NOW YOURS SHALL BE LOST IS THE EVIL YOU'VE DONE WORTH THE COST?" HARBINGER OF DEEAAAAATTTTHHHHHH! isaboo fucked around with this message at 03:19 on Sep 3, 2020 |
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Sep 3, 2020 03:07
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this is a magnificent thread. i'm very happy that you decided to share this tale of reckless youth now when i needed it most, as a boring adult stuck inside during a quarantine. e: harbinger of death. 
Prof. Crocodile fucked around with this message at 03:19 on Sep 3, 2020 |
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Sep 3, 2020 03:17
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When you find a Nazi it is a good idea to punch him. Unless it's John Rabe.
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Sep 3, 2020 04:09
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I wish I had your life bigpeeler
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Sep 3, 2020 04:18
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Puppy Galaxy posted:I wish I had your life bigpeeler He might wish he had his life too... I think he died some years ago
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Sep 3, 2020 05:00
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Wow I can’t wait to read all of this, bound to be a raucous tale. 
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Sep 3, 2020 06:12
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As an on-again off-again roadie this warms my heart.
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Sep 3, 2020 06:15
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Really enjoyed reading that. Thanks so far! 
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Sep 3, 2020 11:14
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quote:
Not gonna lie, I want to hear the demo tape for this. I’m guessing the whole song took about a minute to perform?
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Sep 3, 2020 12:27
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Always wished we had a friend willing to roadie. This is awesome, keep posting.
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Sep 3, 2020 12:40
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Sep 3, 2020 13:51
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isaboo posted:He might wish he had his life too... I think he died some years ago Nah he's still alive, unless he is zombie-posting on Twitter like Herman Cain.
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Sep 3, 2020 16:00
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Part 2 Chapter 1 Ghosts Of The Undead https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Gmw4JEiwMR0 As we headed north across the state line, we tried to formulate a definitive plan on where to go and what to do once we got near the Richmond area. We were basically counting on the vague idea that Poodle had of punk rock house shows in the area. He had a couple of names and addresses, but not much more to go on. T-Man claimed that he could name drop a couple of people from his Army unit who had ties to the scene and that should be enough to get us in the door. It wasn't a very confident or solid plan. Leyna had picked up some art supplies and was making flyers to pass out and post in the area. Poodle worked on a new song while T-Man and JD argued over the set list for our next show. I just kept my eyes on the road, wondering why the gently caress I ever got involved with these bozos, but still looking forward to whatever craziness was next. Due to the route we took to get away from the biker Nazis, we were in the eastern part of Virginia. Leyna and I were history buffs, so we decided to head up to Jamestowne to see the historic area. It was pretty cool and we met some like minded people from Port Richmond who were into our kind of music. They told us about a supposedly haunted stretch of railroad in the nearby town of West Point. Supposedly a railroad worker had been decapitated by a train there in the 1800s, and his spirit would walk along the track with a glowing lantern. I don't believe in that sort of stuff but I'm always down for an adventure so Leyna and I decided we'd all go check it out. I asked our new friends if they'd like to have a little bit of fun and trick the band. They said they would get to the railroad tracks before us and use a spotlight to create the ghost light. Apparently this was something the locals would do to people looking for the 'real' apparition. We didn't tell the brothers where we were going. We hung out around the Jamestowne area until after dark then made the 45 minute drive north to see the spooky spirit. We told the brothers that we were going to another historic area where we could spend the night before going West to Richmond the next day. We found the railroad crossing and I stopped the van on the shoulder... "I've got to take a leak", I said while grabbing a flashlight from the glove box. Leyna got out as well and said she had to stretch her legs and encouraged the guys to do the same. Poodle and JD were drunk and T-Man was high so they were already a bit out of sorts. This should be pretty loving funny, I thought. I walked along the track several meters away trying to get a feel for the surroundings. "Yo man, you done pissing yet?" said T-Man. I told him that I was looking for something. "What you lookin for, Chief? Your teepee to make peepee?" said one of them. When they were annoyed with me they would make oh-so-hilarious references to me being Native American. Leyna let them off the hook and told them why we were really there. "Yo WHAT THE gently caress?!" JD said. "I don't wanna see a loving ghost or spirit. You people are crazy. Get me out of here!" I told them all to calm down and that we probably wouldn't see anything anyway. T-Man and JD got back in the van. Poodle was being uncharacteristically brave and joined Leyna and I on the tracks. In a drunken slur he said "Where tha gently caress you at ghost light?? Let's see what you got!" The two in the van were yelling at him to shut up and get inside. I looked back at the van for a moment and then felt Leyna grab my arm tightly. "Uh, Beets... what's that?" she said while pointing down the tracks. "Turn off your flashlight." I turned it off and peered in the direction she indicated and saw a faint blurry light. It was impossible to tell the distance but it looked far away. The moon disappeared behind thick clouds and everything became really dark. "Yo man, this poo poo ain't funny, let's go" said someone in the van. Poodle said "Ya'll bein' wusses. Come check this poo poo out." After some more prodding the two eventually joined us. "What is that? It can't be a vehicle", said Leyna.  The light suddenly disappeared, then reappeared a few moments later only this time it wasn't as blurry and it was brighter and bigger. "MAN THIS poo poo AINT FUNNY CHIEF. GET ME THE gently caress OUT OF HERE" T-Man said angrily. Leyna and I were laughing but were acting bewildered at what we were seeing. "Relax, I'm sure it's noth.." Leyna stopped mid sentence as the light rose from its original position low to the ground to a height of maybe 10 feet or so. And then it moved toward us. I walked toward the light, yelling and cursing at it while laughing at the whole situation and at the brothers being scared. I was close enough to it at this point that I could tell from the surrounding trees that I was maybe 20 or 30 meters away from it. It then moved in a kind of corkscrew pattern and it looked like it was vibrating. I stopped and turned and quickly ran back to the others. Poodle pulled out his cock and shook it at the light, yelling "Yo I got somethin' for you ya bitch rear end ghost" The light seemed to get a little bigger. I yelled "gently caress YOU SPIRIT BITCH!!" It got brighter. Well, whatever they're doing with their spotlight is pretty fuckin' cool I thought. I was interested in how our new friends were doing this. The light looked like it was steadily but slowly moving toward us. A few moments later a car pulled up behind the van and it was our new pals, Richard and Glenn. Leyna and I did a doubletake. One of them got out of the car and said to Leyna "Hey, we couldn't get to the tracks down the way; there's a new gate blocking the old road we used." Leyna pointed to the light and said "Well what the gently caress is that, then?!" "That's the real loving light! Let's get out of here" one of them replied. "We've never seen it behave like this before..." Well now. This was certainly an unexpected development. Poodle suddenly realized that this was all supposed to be a set up, but now something else was happening and he did not like it. He screamed like a child and ran back to the van, his dick swinging in the night air. T-Man and JD quickly followed. T-Man started pounding on the van's horn and yelled at us. I heard someone say "Don't do that! It might make it angry!!" Leyna and I asked Richard and Glenn what the gently caress was going on but they were already running back to their car. Glenn yelled for us to follow them. We hauled rear end out of there and followed them back to Richard's place near Port Richmond. We smoked weed and drank a little and talked about what we witnessed then played a few songs, totally not impressing them with our music. The next morning we headed for Richmond. To this day I'm not sure what I saw, but if I had to guess I'd say Richard and Glenn and someone else pulled one over on all of us. There had to have been a third person controlling the light, right? Right?! Were it a Nazi ghost, I would have punched it. Yeah. isaboo fucked around with this message at 04:04 on Sep 5, 2020 |
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Sep 5, 2020 03:52
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Sep 5, 2020 04:08
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Sep 5, 2020 05:23
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Thread owns almost as much as actually punching a nazi
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Sep 5, 2020 07:44
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Sep 5, 2020 07:47
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Sep 5, 2020 07:55
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Here are a couple of bad videos about the supposed ghost light https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=hztZ5ek3_mY https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=vNvCJL9HnyY
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Sep 5, 2020 08:04
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Where's the rest!? And when do you gently caress Leyna?
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Sep 10, 2020 06:56
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sigher posted:Where's the rest!? And when do you gently caress Leyna? Yeah don't leave us hanging! 5/5 stuff so far
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Sep 10, 2020 13:44
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My kids have returned to school so it has been busy here. I'll get the part that happens in Richmond finished and posted soon. Then there is Washington DC...and beyond
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Sep 10, 2020 19:27
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Part 2 Chapter 2 Rock & Roll Band https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ef65cLi1gpY We arrived in Richmond and took a day or two to explore the area and get a feel for the city. Once we were well rested and fed we were ready to get down to business and try to find somewhere cool to play. I sat everyone down and had a long talk with them. I basically said "no more bullshit" and lectured them on how this is our job now and we have to perform well without any fuckups and we'd have to minimize distractions and stay focused. To my surprise Poodle and JD volunteered to put up flyers near the area we intended to play, while T-Man and I went to the first address of potential house show contacts. Leyna stayed at our motel and worked on some of her art. When we got to the address it immediately looked like we had the right place. The house was in not too great of a condition and there were the telltale signs of young people, probably punks, living there. An old couch was in the yard and someone was passed out on it. There were the expected anarchy flags in the windows and Dead Kennedys quotes scribbled on the door. The adjacent lots were empty and in them were broken and discarded pieces of musical equipment, furniture, etc. It definitely looked some wild shows had gone on there. We stepped over another passed out punk and walked in the wide open front door. There was a man and woman, both twenty-something, sitting on the floor and they got a frightful look on their faces when a big black guy and a bigger Native American walked in. I heard one of them whisper "oh gently caress what the"... "What's up guys?" said T-Man. "Who the gently caress are you? What are you doing here?" one of them replied. "We're with Battle Cat and we're looking for a place to gig. We heard our kind of music is played here." Snickering, the guy said "Battle Cat? hahaha. And what kind of music do you think is played here? How the gently caress did you find us?" T-Man rattled off a list of his favorite bands. Then he said "Ya'll know Dookie? Is he around? Tell him Skillet is looking for him." That caught me off guard because I had never heard those names before. "Oh gently caress you know Dookie?! You're Skillet?!" said the girl. "Yeah. I'm Skillett" T-Man said. "Man why didn't you say so?! Nah man, Dookie usually doesn't hang out here. He hangs out over at Nard's place. There's shows over there too sometimes. But gently caress yeah man we know Dookie." They went on to say that they were a band, of sorts, but really only played there at the house with locals. They called themselves Thermometer Leg. The girl, Breezy, was the singer and guitar player. They guy was Dig, the drummer. The guy passed out on the couch in the yard was Ben the bass player. We talked to them for quite a while and told them about our recent problems. They sympathized and said that unfortunately there never seemed to be a shortage of Nazi skinheads in the local scene. After hanging out some more they agreed to let us jam with them the following night. T-Man and I left pretty happy and were excited to tell the others. The next night we headed over to Breezy's place and got set up on their makeshift stage in the backyard. Breezy and Dig weren't expecting anyone to show up; we were just going to play together for a bit to get a feel for each other's style. We started with a couple covers of Dead Kennedys tunes then launched into Harbinger of Death, which they liked very much. That was a bit of a surprise to me. After that Battle Cat and Thermometer Leg just jammed for a while, mostly just making noise and trying new ideas. Leyna and I watched and listened and made notes on things we liked and didn't like. There were a lot of things in the Do not like column, but it was the most productive session with other musicians we had ever had up to that point. At the end of the night, Dig invited us to play in a show they had scheduled for the weekend. He said they usually had 20-30 people show up and it would be a good way to meet other folks in the scene. We were all pretty happy and really looked forward to playing our first gig somewhere that we would be somewhat appreciated. Saturday night rolled around and we arrived extra early to get ourselves in the zone. I was really proud of the guys; they had been sober for a couple of days and during our down time they were going over our notes and talking to each other respectfully. It was quite a remarkable change of attitude and I was cautiously optimistic that it would last for at least a little while. At least until after the show. But this was Battle Cat so who knows what could happen. The first band went on; I think they were called something like Bonesnapper and they were heavily influenced by bands like NOFX and Rancid. Not my favorites, but Bonesnapper was pretty decent. They were definitely better than Battle Cat. Another band followed but I can't remember too much about them. At this point there were probably 15 people in the audience, mostly friendly punk types. We were next. The guys had been flailing around in the pit and were energized and ready to go. They were going to open with Poodle's new song Anarchist's Apotheosis or Anarchist's Exaltation or something like that. Poodle was always trying to find ways to smash words together and he thought of himself as the next Jim Morrison or Jello Biafra. Leyna and I got everything set up for them and they took the stage. I said one thing to them before they started: "You have to rock this poo poo". "We're Battle Cat!" is all that Poodle said before launching into the opening number. T-Man hosed up immediately. About halfway into the song a string on JD's bass snapped and his amp was screeching with feedback. Sigh. Can anything ever go right for us? I thought. The crowd was growing restless. They weren't angry, just anxious to hear some music. I replaced the string and after a few minutes they tried again. This time it all came together, and they absolutely crushed Anarchist's Apotheosis. The audience cheered and clapped and yelled for more and then the Harbinger Of Death was summoned in song. I actually remember getting chills seeing them perform like that for the first time. They were finally in their element, and they were loving every second of it. The performance was going well and the punks in the pit were having a great time. Leyna and I looked at each other and we had a sort of "awww, our little guys are growing up right in front of us" moment. They finished their set, and a lot of people went up to them and told them what a good job they did. We were thrilled. From inside the house we heard a big voice yell "SKILLLEEEETTTTTTTT yo man where you at?" Dookie had arrived. I've rarely seen someone move so quickly as T-Man, or rather Skillet, did when he heard that voice. He ran inside and almost knocked Dookie to the ground when they embraced. The two of them clearly had a lot of admiration for each other and I was eager to learn more about Dookie. "Yo Chief! Leyna! Come meet Dookie!" said Skillet. Dookie was a small white guy, but it was evident from the start that he was big in personality and essentially fearless. He looked like he had seen all sorts of poo poo. We talked to Dookie for a while and then let the two of them catch up on their own as the rest of us broke down the stage and loaded our stuff into the van. Skillet was silent the whole ride back to our motel but once we were settled in for the night he told us how he and Dookie met during the Gulf War. Their story isn't mine to tell, but it was a pretty intense one to hear. I could see why T-Man was often not very present. He did recount how they got their nicknames though- they earned them after getting into a confrontation with soldiers from another unit. The story was that before the fight broke out, T-Man said "I'll make you eat a poo poo sandwich, SON" to one of them, Dookie followed up with "I've got the dookie right here" and T-Man then added "And I'm the big black skillet with an iron fist" before kicking their asses. Thus the legend of Dookie and Skillet was born. Then he told us something that Dookie said. "Dookie invited us to play at his friend Nard's house." "Awesome!" "Well, there's a catch", continued Skillet. "They have shows every couple of weeks, and sometimes a certain crew of assholes shows up to ruin things. He said that if we play there, we need to be ready." "Ready for what exactly?" asked Leyna. "You know the type. Skinheads." Great. Just the kind of show we need, I thought. "That doesn't sound like a good idea" said JD. "Well, did you think we'd be able to avoid those assholes? I don't think it's possible in this scene." Skillet made a good point. I said "Guys, we're just at the start of all this. I'd rather not make a bunch of enemies. Let's just play at Breezy's for a while and find other places." "Aww come on, Chief. We're going to run into them sooner or later. We might as well get used to it now, at a place we have friends. They might not even show up." said Poodle Well gently caress. I'll probably be overruled on this one. I wasn't scared; I just didn't want to deal with the drama. We were just getting on track and I didn't want anything to derail us. Leyna didn't look too happy about this new development and said she would just stay at the motel. I didn't blame her. I got the feeling that there was something that Skillet wasn't telling us. I pulled him aside and asked him what was really going on. He admitted that Dookie had an ulterior motive and it was one that Skillet felt was justified so he was intent on helping, with or without us. He explained that the skinheads had been causing trouble at the shows for a while, and particularly focused on bullying the younger weaker punks that didn't have much experience in the scene. That sounded about right, Nazi fuckheads and bullies in general love to gently caress with the more timid among us. They are cowards, and Dookie and Skillet decided they needed to be taught a lesson. Skillet said Dookie wanted us, Skillet and myself, to be in and around the mosh pit to quash any real violence and get rid of the poo poo stirrers. Bouncers, basically. That, I could handle. I realized that this was going to happen with or without my consent so I had to go along with it. We had a few days to prepare our set and make some tweaks and Breezy was kind enough let us practice at her place.
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Sep 12, 2020 22:44
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