Matt Freeman walks in, sits down, and says, “Kind of crazy, right?” and I say, “Yeah.” And then, after a moment, I say, “Was that Madonna I just blew off?” and he said, “Yeah.” I said, “That was pretty fucking cool.” And Matt said, “It was really cool, actually.”
Bad Brains/Leeway – August 6th, 1989
Rob Vitale (Black Train Jack): Leeway had played CBGB and the next show was at City Gardens. [Leeway’s] Eddie came out with this sign that said, “Trenton or Bust.” And then the Bad Brains come on and out comes [Bad Brains frontman] HR with the same sign: Trenton or Bust.
Steven DiLodovico (author): Hottest show ever. EVER. To this day people still talk about how goddamn hot that show was.
Jamie Davis (City Gardens regular): Bad Brains only played about five songs because the power kept going out. It was so hot in there that the power would blow out. Leeway was amazing. The best part about Leeway was that the bouncers were all outside and everyone realized it, and everyone was stagediving like crazy through the whole Leeway set. There were so many people outside trying to get in, so that’s where all the bouncers were. Everyone was going nuts. Leeway blew them away, anyway. The Bad Brains came on late, played, like, two songs, said it was too hot, and stopped.
Rich O’Brien: Dag Nasty cancelled because they wanted to play last. And for a lot of the audience, I think this was their first “punk” show. At least that’s how they acted.
Dave Smalley (Dag Nasty, vocalist): That sounds like a good show. I think what happened is that I quit in the beginning of July. The big tour was going to be that summer, but then I quit. I remember one of my regrets was missing that tour. I think that was Dag’s first tour with Pete Cortner singing. I remember hearing that Pete caught some grief because the album had just come out and all these people were like, “We really like this record.” But then the audience got somebody else singing! That’s not a diss on Pete; it’s just one of those things. I think he was having a bit of a hard time with it at first because some people were not particularly kind.
Jim Norton (City Gardens stage manager/security): I started to show up to the club early. If doors were open at six o’clock, I would get there an hour or two earlier to help the bands load in. I did it because it was punk rock, and who doesn’t want to hang out with Dag Nasty? Since you’d get thrown out for stagediving, what would people do? Well, you wait until the encore and then you go nuts. Now, bouncers are stupid, but they’re not that stupid. They’re not so stupid that they don’t see it coming. I have to say I always hoped that a band wouldn’t take an encore, that they would say, “Encores are for wussies, so we’re not doing it!” But they always did it. The Descendents did it, and by the end of their encore I was carting people out three at a time. I grabbed two kids in each arm and scooped them around with a third kid in the middle, pushing all four of us to the door. I did that a couple of times. Now, that says a lot about the generally friendly nature of the City Gardens patron, when you consider it. It was like, “Okay, I’m getting thrown out. It’s just part of the game.” For us it was like, “Yeah, I’m doing my job. I’m the bouncer and I’m throwing you out because you know you did something you weren’t supposed to do. But if the three of you did not want to be thrown out…” I’m not that big of a guy. You did not all have to be thrown out. That was, to me, the hallmark of my time there, at least from a security perspective: a very friendly, collegial vibe. This week I can throw someone out for diving, and next week I see him and shake his hand. Now, that may not have been everybody’s take on it, but it was mine. To this day, years and years later, I’ll run into people who’ll say, “Hey, you’re that guy from City Gardens. Dude, you totally threw me out for stagediving!” And I’ll be like, “Well, was I nice about it?” They always say, “Oh yeah, totally. It was cool.”
Jeff Weigand (Volcano Suns bassist): I really have no idea why they put us on the bill. I think sometimes the promoter would be a big fan and would want to see us, so he would add us to the line-up. That show was pretty intense. It was a big crowd of skinheads and hardcore guys up front, with lots of repressed homosexuality and groupthink... It was that whole “safety in numbers” thing I hated about hardcore. Anything slightly different that wasn’t loved by the group couldn’t be seen for what it was. Most of those hardcore kids were as bad as their parents in terms of the herd and wanting to be accepted and loved for their mediocrity. They looked different from their dull folks, but they were pretty much running at the same boring, unthinking level. I used to love shows like this with that us-against-them thing going on, which was much more interesting than a love fest. We usually played a lot better in terms of the aggression that was inherent to our music and attitude. The thing about the hardcore crowd is you have to attack and do it in a way that they don’t quite know what to do. It was like facing down a herd of wildebeests who might stampede you. When you walk right up to one of the lead wildebeests and smack him in the nose, they back down as a group, stunned into dumb retreat. That was pretty much that show. We didn’t want to be liked by such morons to be honest, and the last thing we wanted were followers. I never saw myself as a long-term musician. It wasn’t something I wanted to do forever, and it always sickens me to see folks still hanging around trying to squeeze out a few more drops from a long dead and decayed mop. I could mention names but won’t, since they are easy enough to see. To us, the band was a chance to fuck around with the order of things in rock music—a Dada project—and we knew if we carved out anything original, which I think we did, we wouldn’t be accepted. We pretty much disdained acceptance. Fuck that. Rock music, then and now, is a sleazy business. I have more respect for the porn industry. At least they present themselves as they are: a bunch of sleazeballs. When it was time to move on, call it a day, the timing seemed right. The band was talking to major labels and I thought, “Time to get out or you will become one of these people.” I quit and moved to Europe to work on my Ph.D.
DiWulf Publishing House has made its primary mission to document and celebrate subculture in its many forms. One of the most important facets of the punk and hardcore DIY scene has always been the proliferation of the fanzine. In fact, the ‘zine represents the ultimate expression of true independent publishing, one of the founding principles for us here at DiWulf. In a time when no established, “respectable” publications would cover underground scenes, the fanzine was there to broadcast and inform and, most importantly, to inspire. It was the most important part of underground music in terms of communication and information and it was a very powerful tool for kids who would otherwise be voiceless. It can not be overstated how important ‘zine culture is and was to the underground movement, and it is something that is very close to our hearts, and, naturally, we wanted to represent what a huge influence ‘zines were to us both personally and as authors and publishers.
And now DiWulf presents its own ode to ‘zine culture: a retrospective anthology of the seminal NY/NJ/PA ‘zine Hard Times. Tentatively scheduled for an early-2019 release, the as-yet-untitled anthology will contain all seven issues that were published, as well as the long-lost and never-published eighth issue, which featured Government Issue frontman John Stabb on the cover. Included in the book will be all original interviews along with record, ‘zine, and show reviews, scene reports, political commentary, and some really great photography from Hard Times creator and publisher Ron Gregorio. Hard Times was a glossy black and white printed ‘zine that ran from 1984-1985 and covered some of the biggest names in punk and hardcore history.
Hard Times was also a starting point for DiWulf Publishing House co-founder and author of No Slam Dancing, No Stage Diving, No Spikes: An Oral History of the legendary City Gardens Amy Yates Wuelfing. Amy’s presence is featured throughout Hard Times’ life span and her interviews and reviews are a creatively intimate look into her young career as a writer and historian. While the Hard Times anthology will surely spark waves of nostalgia for any east coast punk from the ‘80s, it will also serve as a reminder of the exuberance of youth and a cultural barometer for what was happening in ’84 and ’85.
Included in the features are several interviews with punk and hardcore luminaries like Samhain, Cause For Alarm, Jello Biafra, Ian MacKaye, Butthole Surfers, U.K. Subs, Flipper, The Meatmen, John Lydon, Circle Jerks, The Replacements, and many more.
We will be bringing you all the information as this project moves forward right here on our website, as well as all release date and pre-sale information as it becomes available. We also have a few cool surprises we are working on to go with the book and may even have a few old, original issues of Hard Times stashed away in the DiWulf basement…
We cannot express how excited we are about this book; it is a true labor of love, and it will be something that will add just another small piece to the rich history of the punk and hardcore subculture.