(post-) punk gems, v. 61 — The Germs

I’m right about to the end of Marc Spitz and Brendan Mullen’s brilliantĀ We Got the Neutron Bomb: The Untold Story of L.A. Punk, and–perhaps as you could have guessed, or know all too well–there’s no heroic, triumphant crescendo to be found. The LA punk scene, which originated around Hollywood with all sorts of polymorphous perversity and inclusive musical takes on what punk meant, transmogrified as it migrated south to Orange County into a hyper-masculine, often violent parody of punk that has had a surprisingly long (and tragic) shelf life.

Amid the chaos and camaraderie of the era emerged some great groups likeĀ The Germs, who could really bang out a decent tune when lead singer Darby Crash wanted to (which was rarely, it seems), including this one:

(When ads for Myrtle Beach appear before classic punk tracks on youtube, I don’t know whether to laugh or cry. Aging can be a cruel mistress.) I pity the self-destructive, and Crash made good on his chosen moniker, of course, with a little help from the old musical nemesis of heroin.

I’m happy to see Stealing back in the top-20 at amazon, and hope if you’ve read it, that you’ll add your rating and a few words to either amazon or good reads (where people really wanted another Clash bio, it seems). It really helps get the word out about my little rock’n’roll tale. And do drop me a line if you’re near the Catskills (a 3/21 appearance) or western Massachusetts (a 3/25 talk).

And now it’s time for a second cuppa, and to get this day started. Rock on!