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THRASHER Stickers
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high-speed pivot turn
as demonstrated by
Tim Kerr at The Dish
The Pt Sacto Boys
and MTV at 6 am
Monday morning
Comcob Farmer.
asleep Dork Session
Dork Session II Pump-
ing fists to Skate Rock
at the Tool & Die
"Let's do something."
"Who's playing tonight?"
"Where's a place with girls. Lots of girls?"
"Let's get out of here. Let's go somewhere."
Then they started playing that hacky-puck leather ball game in
the dining room again. That was all it took. "Let's go." I said quickly.
"Hey, we're going somewhere."
"Yeah, oh boy. We're really gonna do something now. I'm ready
to go. Let's go. I'm ready now. Where we goin'?"
A bomb couldn't stop these guys. My only chance was to try to
exhaust the fellows with intense night life activities. "Black Flag,
the Minute Men and the Big Boys are playing tonight at the On
Broadway, I instructed them, "and I'm leaving right now."
"Right let's go."
"Yeah, who's Black Flag?"
The Creator kindly offered his van skate vehicle as the troop
transport for the evening. As we all stood in front of the club, one
of the more alert members of the entourage spied the admission
price.
"Six bux to see a bug killer?"
Somewhat simultaneously they all turned to me. "Can you get
us in for free?"
I should have seen that one coming, but I was somewhat unpre
pared. A new challenge. I usually have to pay here myself. I rarely
get myself in, let alone TEN starving skaters. I was on the Big
Boys guest list so I slid in and proceeded to see what could be
scammed.
Two minutes later an impressed unit of skaters were comforta-
bly in from out of the warm San Francisco night.
"How'd you get us all in?" asked Bill Ruff.
"Never mind, you just owe," was all he got.
The Minute Men were halfway through their set. We missed the
Big Boys. I located some of the band and checked to see if they
were going to be happening for the show this Monday.
Finally, back at home. It was a long day and when I closed the
door behind the last of the skate jocks, the clock struck 3:30.
The next morning it was the same old song. I'd nudge one of the
numerous sleeping bodies and they'd be on autopilot.
"Let's go, when do we leave?"
Trouble was, they were still technically asleep. So getting them
in gear was a problem until I suggested breakfast out.
THRASHER
ATERO MAGAZINE
In these cases, the perfect spot is Hamburger Mary's, an
esoteric eating spot that attracts a sometimes odd sort. So, of
course, our scene was nearly compatible. Well, maybe a little too
perfect. The Prodents stirred their own little havoc soon after
familiarizing themselves with the dining and waiting area. It.
became evident that the waiting area at Hamburger Mary's does
not have an adequate amount of seats to accommodate the usual
amount of people that end up waiting around to eat. Being familiar
with the situation at hand I spied a pair of empty stools in one
comer of the area and proceeded to make myself comfortable,
meanwhile the rest of the boys were forced to realize that thinking
quick in this town was certainly advantageous. But thinking, in a
few of their cases, is not a quality. Some had to be taught, in order
to survive. There they stood, in the middle of the area, looking
around at the million doo-dads plastered randomly to the walls and
ceiling. Christ turned to me, his eyes widened. "Did you see that
dude?" he chattered. "I think he had on lipstick and mascara."
"He did."
"Is he a...?"
"Yup."
"And those guys over there. Are they...?"
"For sure."
You're not a..."
"Why, you looking for a date? What's the matter with you? Do
you want everyone here to see your nose fly across the room?"
Christian's first lesson of the day.
From here on out, it would be touch and go. Then Lance Moun-
tain noticed a curious little black and white illustration above the
archway by the Public Telephone. I don't think Lance was ready
for it. Neither was anyone else he pointed it out to. I was correct in
my assumption that exposing these boys to culture such as this
would put their brains in gear.
The boys were hungry, and when our tables were ready, the
waiter was almost trampled. Luckily, the noisiest and less tamed
skaters gathered at one table. The whole restaurant wasn't sure
what was happening. For the loud table (as our waiter referred to
half of our party) breakfast couldn't come soon enough. So while
they waited, they composed a little instrumental, utilizing the sil-
verware and water glasses
It's obvious that the length of this morning's eating activities
would not span more than a few moments. In no time, they were
Mondo, curb clipping at The Dish
skating off their meal back at Joe's Ramp. These sessions this
weekend at Joe's were proving to be a good, early, workout for the
upcoming Pro Invitational in a few weeks.
As the boys flew about the ramp, I noticed how these individuals
were doing the amazing things that they do, twirling, ejecting, bei
Ing from unreal heights, with a very carefree attitude. Why weren't
they getting hurt? Why were they laughing so much? Why don't
they take anything seriously? Who cares? The possibility of life
beyond skateboarding, for these individuals, is remote.
9:30 p.m. and the line out in front of the Tool & Die was begin
ning to lengthen. A majority of the shoes in the line were torn and
scravenged by grip tape. Skaters. Tonight's show features five
bands. I made the lineup in a random order because I wanted
there to be no stars. For bands who were to play both nights, The
Skoundretz, Minus One and the Faction, I slated them into the ear
lier slots of the evening, jumbling their order between the two
nights. There's no doubt about it though, J.F.A. and Los Olvidados
were to bring in a good draw of their following contingencies.
The Tool & Die is a very interesting place. It definitely has an
atmosphere. Upon entering the place, one is faced with a large
open room with a massive amount of people milling about. A quick
glance about, there's no stage, no speakers, no bands. Just
people, milling about aimlessly. But there's music coming from
somewhere, muffled vibrations Rumbling waves coming up
through the floor. There is more to this place. Your senses draw
you to a small hallway graffitied and packed with people standing
in a line, facing a lonely door covered with thousands of ink, felt
penned and scratched on scribblings. But the music did not come
from behind this door. A person walked out, another walked in.
The bathroom.
The hallway angles downward, sharply into the earth. A stair-
way. The music was louder. Entering the abyss yielded hundreds
of more bodies, intently absorbing what was being offered. Angry.
sincere and energetic words from radical young men. Parallels are
reached, expressed, understood and appreciated.
(A description of the bands, in no particular order)
When The Faction went on, they touched off an energy syllable
in the room. Arms were a blur and a group of guys marched in a
circle, each pumping a fist into the perspiring air. The same inten-
sities were relevant when the Skoundrelz played. They slung out
an erratically nervous tirade of maniacal, high intensity VOODOO
Brian Branon flying off of the THRASHER Kicktum Ramp
This, matched with Kerry Anderson's lead vocals and the crowd's
raw enthusiasm, resulted in a volatile performance.
The Three Piece unit, called Minus One, was regarded with
mixed opinion. On the tape, their songs hold along with a sort of
Pop nature. But what is heard on the tape and what is heard live
are two very different things. Tim Kem of the band the Big Boys
pretty much summed them up. "I didn't think I'd like them very
much when I heard them on the tape, but seeing them, they're hot
as shit." And so they went on to blow minds, in more ways than
one.
Dana Albert's blazing guitar work was carreening through a hot
set. He always breaks strings.
The place was nearing capacity level. Los Olvidados was set-
ting up. They're a powerful band, they've been together for a long
time, and some say they've been on the verge of splitting up since
they began. Maybe that's why they've stuck together for so long.
Tonight is definitely one of their better nights. The woundup crowd
frenzied about the floor, spinning and thrashing. Lance got on a
skateboard and pushed straight into the middle of the melee. To
further enhance matters, I reached into my pocket and slung out a
handful of THRASHER stickers into the throng Instand reaction.
It reminded me of when I used to feed the ducks at Sea World in
San Diego when I was a little kid. I'd throw a handful of sunflower
seeds into a milling crowd of waddlers and they'd immediately
dash for the grub. The same thing with the stickers. Before long.
Fausto of Independent was chucking his own in there. One sec-
ond, there'd be stickers everywhere, the next, the floor would be
spotless What a reaction. The night pushed onward, Los
Olvidados fed the hungry, young crowd with high intensity. It's
what they want.
Tony Alva's ugly mug popped up from time to time in the flurry of
the crowd. He still thrashes the way he used to a few years back.
He has it down, I've yet to see anyone out-thrash Tony Alva, he
and I used to thrash and run together a long time ago,
Rounding off the evening's entertainment was J.F.A. It was to
be their only performance in San Francisco of this tour.
Brian Brannon, vocalist, was having a bit of trouble with his
voice. It seems he had a sore throat. But this was not to be any
detriment to his performance, or the band's as a whole, for that
matter. J.F.A. is hot, and everybody knows it Sweat began to form
on the walls, there was spilled beer all over the dance floor, thrash