How Low Can A Punk Get?!

   

Last night, Mac and I were sitting around reminiscing about the bad old days of the Durham/Chapel Hill Hardcore scene of the late 80's and early 90's, looking for pictures that might have people in them that we vaguely remember, talking about people like Napalm with his beautifully quaffed, multi-colored Mohawks, mouse-clicking our way through the close-by and infinitely influential DC punk scene via Yellow Arrow.

This morning I continued our search, and Mac joined in. I discovered some slightly used Celibate Commandos 7" records [pictured above, left] on a French online record store. Only three copies available, pretty damn Limited Ed. Of course, I have both of their records already. Mac found a great looking book, entitled Punk Love [pictured above, right] by Susie J. Horgan with text by Henry Rollins, Ian and Alec MacKaye about the birth of the Washington, DC punk movement.

I kind of remember the late 80's, early 90's (too many blows to the head), going to Street Scene and Cat's Cradle in Chapel Hill and the Duke Coffeeshop in Durham to see bands like the Celibate Commandos, Rights Reserved, Rat Nuts, Tonka, Creeping Flesh, 23 More Minutes, Bad Brains, Corrosion of Conformity, etc. Of course, Ernie Dollar remembers that stuff a whole lot better than I do. And he has the Myspace page to prove it. I remember Ernie, we were both friends with Edward from Celibate Commandos. Also, we went to the same high school. He was a couple of years older than me, but I would see him in Mr. Pustaver's art room all the time because we were both artists.

With all this reminiscing, I was wondering, is there anything like this for kids today? Is there a scene for the social outcasts and misfits of today to go let off some steam, thrash around, yell, and bang on things? Or is that why things like Columbine happen now, because punk is dead? Maybe kids today are too busy playing World of Warcraft to get out and play some guitar, grow a Mohawk, pin a banner on a leather jacket, and scream at the top of their lungs. It's too bad. I miss those days. Sigh.