I've recently been going through my old crates of endless cassettes that I've had since the 1980s until present. I am the son of Hoarders from the depression// baby boomer era, and I've held on to every single fucking tape I've had since about 1983. Now that I'm 55, I can't help but start my death cleaning and start throwing this shit away. As I know my kids and grandkids are not going to have any interest in listening to my old shitty classic rock cassettes taped off of kfmi radio. Back in my day, we took a long time to learn about punk rock. I lived in Crescent City, California, which is kind of like Alaska, the furthest Northwest corner of California on the coast, gray and rainy and depressed and full of Hicks that were angry and it was not a very pleasant place at all. Oftentimes friends would move up from places like San Francisco, San Jose, Los Angeles, Gilroy, or Santa Cruz, and they would inevitably bring music with them that us Hicks in a small town had not heard yet. I had a short-term friend named Pat in 1986 and he brought this tape that had rolling Stones, minor threat, and Beatles White album on it?? What a weird fucking combo. It also had kinks you really got me and all day and all of the night. I like that this kid, who had a bad chin, bad teeth and smoked cigarettes, had rather alienated and masculine taste in music. But most of all, it was important that I heard minor threat for the first time from this tape, I drew the cover for this tape, like a lot of kids did in the '80s. I had no real idea what punk rock, or DC hardcore versus LA hardcore, was. This is my first introduction though, to something that was beyond the mainstream, angry, relevant and true.
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