Punktown, USA
Bloomington in the 1980s
I'm not sure where all the ideas of being "punk" came from, but I am pretty sure Rolling Stone magazine has done an excellent job chronicling its sordid history over the years. I use the word "sordid" to give some credit to the movement and its ideas, because I think maybe punks want to me known as such. If not, forgive me. I am not of the punks, per se, but I have my viewpoints. I do think many of them would accept being called sordid, although it is more likely even more of them would not appreciate being labeled at all.In that case, ignore me.
But, for the record on this modest forum, I present just a few ideas about punk life, from a guy who has paid fair attention to the local, national, and international scenes for a few decades ...
Some Context of History
The 1950s rehashed the ideas of the 1920s, a time after a US interventionist war where people partied or tuned out or tuned in, imbibing or smoking or eventually snorting and/or injecting all the chemicals that would enhance the experience. Movies and then television also helped with distractions. Perhaps the modern day electronic gadgets of video gaming and phones and smart appliances have alleviated the greater addictions of chemicals? Nevertheless, in the 20th century millions of G.I.s came home and wanted some normalcy, the Dough Boys from Europe in the traumatic trenches in the 1920s; World War II and Korea brought more foreign tragedy and loss to our men and women abroad. An then there was Vietnam.
Enter the 1970s, and maybe the dadaists, the avant guardists of the post World War I era were brought full circle. Nothing mattered, except the moment. Did life really matter? Shakespeare wrote about the idiot "full of sound and fury, signifying nothing." Hemingway wrote "nada a nada." Nothing to nothing. Could life have a greater, deeper, significance? We were schoolmates of the children of Holocaust survivors, who taught Jewish studies in the post-war era.
But worse yet, we were the post-hippie, post-industrial, post modern age. Who or what were we?
We were all punks of a sort. All heaped together, no matter the race or creed.
Nothing had meaning, love and peace were the byword, not killing and burning and maiming. Film and television brought it home in Technicolor. Dead babies, dead villages, burnt out country sides and burnt out soldiers and Marines. Joseph's Conrad's Heart of Darkness meets the machine gun, napalm, Agent Orange, and helicopter hell fire.
The 1970s: finally the decade that offered the post-modern post rebellion. Enter the PUNKS.
Jack Kerouac found the beat scene, well the punks found something even darker.
Vietnam was the war to end all wars for the punks.
What else was there?
Colombia cranked up the crank, marijuana became a part of college campuses everywhere, a safer escapade than LSD and mushrooms. Weed was tame, it accompanied the lifestyle of the hippies and ghettos, and just plain old GIs or misfits. Punks could be part that scene, only more nihilist.
Everybody came together.
Drugs, and rock, and some physical presence, which was dark.
Fast drums, hard beats, flashy retro jewelry like ear gages or other skin piercings.
Spiked and mutlti-colored hair, the end of the old, the traditional.
Songs that approached shout fests, rants and tirades against the Man, the Government.
Not just to question authority as the bumper stickers touted, but give it a middle finger. And some other choice words and epithets.
Curse the universe! Yeah, that feels good. Hard music. Hard drugs.
A new way of Bohemia, a combative approach to tackle the world.
Punks tuned in by tuning out. The scared looks that they provoked were calculated and shared.
We are not you, older, tireder, conservative, even passe hippies and tree huggers, or worse: those of old fashioned values.
We don't give a flip. Yeah, that's an "F" word.
My town in the 1980s; Mellencamp was not the only rocker
Bloomington had a large university among a smaller populace in a mid-west city. A small city of two high schools, with only so many downtown alleys to scrawl the Anarchy symbol or at least, the Peace Sign or other symbolic urban missives. The kids in town that became a punk full blown or flirted with the notion, that mostly belonged to the elementary schools within the city limits, had access to a few keys that welcomed them to the punk scene.
Parents with worldly knowledge and money.
Youthful disdain for the countrified youth of the county, Monroe, and surrounding suburbs of kids who might be considered preppy and rich, spoiled or soft. They were the third option ...
Not jocks, not nerds, not hicks, but still strong and cool and in your face.
Punk.
Rebels, cool, counter-culture.
Smart enough to know better, and part of a larger global scene. You could see it on MTV and other media venues, and you could certainly see it in the local record shops and publications.
Some university students followed it, creating their own mini-markets where the information flowed.
In middle school some of my cohorts were taking to the Punk Scene, many of them attracted by older siblings in high school, or even some beyond 12th grade, who tapped into the lifestyle.
Or at least the look and attitude. The hair. The language. The music. The drugs.
If you dressed punk, you most likely were a punk, but not always.
Some kids dabbled. They mixed and matched.
Some liked skateboards. Others more the music. Or the posture.
The counter-culture. The weed. The hair. The message.
Don't mess with me. I know better, life is dark. Things are wrong. I gotta be loud and proud.
We protest all of this. BLEEP! [Insert the overarchingly defiant profane and filthy curse word of your choice.] BLEEP OFF! BLEEP IT ALL!!!
As far as numbers of Bloomington Punks?
Not sure. Maybe 100 at South. My high school. The late 1980s. Maybe 50 at North? A smaller school. Maybe a few floating in the wings in the middle schools.
How many were totally dedicated? Not sure. How much one did each one dedicate to the life?
How many IU students espoused the culture and lifestyle? Maybe not a lot, out of 35 some thousand.
How long did their identities as punks last? How long could it be sustained? Maybe Punk was simply the outsider label for them.
Again, not sure.
The more I reflect on the Town Punks of the Eighties, the less I can be sure about.
I was outside to them. I knew some. I heard of others. I observed some behavior and attitudes, some music and some partying.
I smelled the pot a few times (not always them, of course), I heard the vitriolic speeches. I saw the graffiti, I read some stories and watched some shows.
But I can tell you this, Punks were a part of my town. The message was alive and present.
At the end of the day, was it simply a show full of sound and fury, signifying nothing?
No: like many ideas, arts, or movements, it had its place.
They were few, they were a minority. But they expressed themselves for real reasons, and moved on to other stages and climes.
The Punks had their day. And they'll be around again, as sure as the US fights wars and youths are disgruntled.
They may dress different, talk of different issues. But they will be around.
You will see your own Punktowns.
You will see Punks out on the street.
