I finished reading
"Our Band Could Be Your Life: scenes fom the american indie underground 1981-1991" by Michael Azerrad.
He tells the story of 13 bands from that time period: Black Flag, the Minutemen, Mission of Burma, Minor Threat, Husker Du, The Replacements, Sonic Youth, the Butthole Surfers, Big Black, Dinosaur Jr, Fugazi, Mudhoney, Beat Happening, and the indie labels that loved them.
It's a truly remarkable account of life as a band and the alternative culture and tribal scenes of the time. To live for what you love can be hard.
The guys in these bands are my age or maybe ten years my senior. We grew up in the same time. I was baking brownies to raise money for the nuclear freeze and to help the Sandanistas and these guys were creating a cultural riot. It is embarassing that during those years I was a big Billy Joel fan and my ear was glued to the radio. Although I'm sure that even now my musical taste is too pedestrian to embrace many of these bands. Though it rots out my brain, I adore ear candy.
Today in my 30's the DIY concept has finally trickeled out far enough into the mainstream to infect me. I want to write a zine, I want to book bands in my basement, I want to start a label, I want to be in a band that's groundbreaking and confrontational. Unfortunately I also like to know where my next meal is coming from. I like to know where I'm going to sleep at night. And I like to shower regularly. I'm too old and rigid for that life. Still, it is my day-dream.
I barrel towards middle age and notice all of things I could have done when I was young but was too self-absorbed and unhappy to notice.
Contrary to popular belief, greater satisfaction comes out of a challenge than out of comfort.
Turn off the TV, get off your ass, build something.
Words I need to heed.
An idiosyncratic and non sequitorial examination of the contents of one head.