From: dhake@mac.cc.macalstr.edu
Newsgroups: alt.thrash
Subject: GA GA GA!
Date: 14 Apr 92 23:25:42 GMT
Article-I.D.: mac.1992Apr14.172542.2461
Organization: Macalester College

I'm doing some quoting today from MaximumRocknRoll, I thought some people might
be interested.

"FUCK ROCK.  I remember driving 5 hours out of my way several weeks ago to go
to a certain large, redneck Northeastern colege town for a "hardcore" show.  I
remember watching in dismay as several bands I used to regard highly as
innovative and powerful acts resurfaced in their ROCK incarnations.  I remember
standing in the audience, bored stupid, desperately wishing that I had patented
and manufactured that special fork gun I keep thinking about so I could somehow
injure all of the well dressed, well behaved young adults that tried to pass
themselves off as members of an alternative culture.  Fuck slicked back hair,
fuck cigarettes, fuck Sup Pop and all of its miserable little bands, fuck bars,
fuck beer, fuck beer rock, fuck large, crisp, powerful guitar solos, fuck MTV
cock-rock, fuck all of it.  ROCK is nothing more than background static for all
the poor shits who appreciate and reward conformity and blandness - people who
applaud and drool when FISHBONE or the RED HOT CHILI PEPPERS or FAITH NO MORE
or the BAD BRAINS release another boring, useless slab of dung with the sole
intention of defrauding their "fans" out of another 9 bucks.  It's the
"progression" welcomed by all the "hardcores" who want nothing more out of life
than to come home after the old 9 to 5, and watch funyman Sam Kinneson [dead at
last, I'm not sorry to say -ed.] and his lovely and talented sidekick Jessica
Hahn (a woman who successfully made a career out of having been raped, ha ha ha
- gee, how wacky!) provide entertainment.  That's the direction that too many
once-independant bands are crawling towards...providing entertainment, not
progression."

"Caught a pre-nine AM wake up show called "Good Day NY" last week.  This
particular segment just happened to be on the "thrashing" and its merits and/or
ill effects.  The anchorperson in charge, a perky Ms. Denise Richardson
(African-American, but with straightened hair and fairly white features, so as
not to offend any of the viewers) apparently had some inside info, because the
report, as with most mainstream media stabs at the 'rough and tumble world of
slamdancing', is beserk in its focus, trying to address how slamdancers
express their "social and political frustrations" by jumping on top of one
another, and latching onto straightedge as some kind of pivotal point in the
lives of these urban rebels.  The interviewees, in their turn, provide willing
chatter for the morning public.  When questioned about a possible grand
underlying reason for the existance of hardcore, all cite the need for a
release from the daily tensions of life and the oh-so stressful pressures of
growing up in this fast paced society.  You know, school, work, peer
pressure, identity crisis...that stuff.  All discuss the vital need for
hardcore to provide an escape from "reality", to act as some sort of safety
valve to release tension.  In between various random shots of healthy teenagers
jumping into each other, the frontperson for VISION sums up the point clearly:
"I think that any of the kids who get angry from the music usually ONLY get  
angry at the shows and just go absolutely crazy, release all their energy, and
then, when they're home or at school, they're just the same as they would be
any other day." Everyone catch that?  The current definition of hardcore then,
would seem to be a "release" from the boss and the schoolsystem, a "release"
from the pressures of society...once every week and only 7 or 8 dollars at the
door.  No part of the interview mentioned any desire to see the ritual expand
to become, say, a method of CONFRONTING or CHANGING all the weekday pressures
that seemed to warrant escape.  Just as important, no one interviewed seemed to
show the slightest desire to belittle or intimidate or harrass the good people
from TV land, to simply tell them to fuck off and not allow their own words and
image to become incorporated into the neat packaging.
	Ah, but the best is yet to come.  Cut to the warm confines of the
television studio, where Ms. Richardson is joined by Civ, front person for
the GORILLA BISCUITS, and a middle-aged suit and tie man, introudced simply as
the father of five teenagers.  And what do you, as a parent, think about this
alleged 'slamdancing' sir?  Would you let your kids try it?  The father shifts
his weight nervously, and responds 'I'd heard about this slamdancing eariler,
but I'd never seen the video...I think that teenage kids really do need an
outlet of some type physically, but I think that this kind of behavior seems a
little chaotic and potentially dangerous.'  He suggests that kids stick with
their football and lacrosse, and questions the safety of these "conferts". 
After all, he offers amusedly, "I don't want to spend Saturday night at the
emergency room of a local hospital."  Smoldering at home, I fantasized about
all the reactions that I, as a counterpoint to the rationality of Mr. Business
Man, could offer to the viewing public.  The infinite ways I could go about
upsetting the business as usual tone of the broadcast - my looking directly at
the camera and explaining how I am the Earth's ambassador to Satan, how
hardcore is all about not wearing clothing and eating out of garbage cans, a
recital of all the bad words I know on live television...ANYTHING but what the
reporters expect, ANYTHING but what they want and need for the smooth flow of a
rational TV report.  Alas, the GORILLA BISCUITS dude plays the role well. 
Politely, he again explains the concept of a weekend hardcore release: "This
just keeps you normal it just keeps you going [in the back of my mind,
something triggers a replay of a Snickers commercial]...when you're doing that
["thrashing"] for 2 or 3 hours, you're so tired you can't even walk when you
get home, so that's a release."  Ms. Richardson asks politely about the
apparent lack of female participation.  Oh well that's simple, Civ answers:
"When you put a bunch of teenage men together and a bunch of girls, the girls
are the ones who're going to get hurt...Mostly they're just on the side,
watching."  Mr. suit and tie is unconvinced, "I don't see much control going on
there."  Cut back to the main anchor, who thanks Denise for "a sensible
discussion on a nonsensical subject."  All chuckle, and Good Day NY cuts to
next segment.  Another glorious victory for the forces of punk rock."

			- Sam McPheeters/Born Against

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