Punk & Peppers

Gepubliceerd op 23 mei 2021 om 17:14

The deepest stones in the foundation of my band are punk. 
It's what they are in built on. 
They were born in the essence of the punk era. 
How I wish to have been part of that L.A punk scene. 
And how fucking glad am I that I wasn't, because it would have scared me to death. 
It probably would have. 
Scared me to death. 

For a lot of people punk seems like a fashion thing in retrospect. Cool blue hair, hip ripped jeans, piercings..
But it was not. It was the opposite of that. 
As a phenomenon, it is impossible to look back and know what it was like. 
Every explanation is superficial, every elucidation is warped. 
It denounced and rejected everything that was established and understood. 
Punk was pure love for life, and that included death. 
Nothing was wrong, nothing and nobody unwanted. 
Raw, pure, and as hidden as it was in your face.


Sid Vicious, the face of punk for me

"I love those who do not know how to live, except in perishing, for they are those that go beyond.
I love the great despiser's, because they are the great adorers"
- Darby Crash

Punk was born about ten years after I was, so no, I wasn't very aware at the time..but my girlhood was definitely impacted by its aftermath.
Blondie in 78 knocked me off my socks. Fierce woman with the wicked hair, and the 'flippin-off' look in her eyes.
I was thirteen then and completely fascinated by her nonconformity. (however - Warhol - styled it may have been)
She definitely sparked my love for punkrock, and inspired me to own my off-ness. 
Thank you Debby Harry. 


Punk was not music, punk was a blast, for lack of a better word. A burst. A smash. A gnarly hump. 
It was a porthole. Escape. A cleansing blaze for the coming out of generations to come. Crushing the restrictions of judgement.
It changed my world and probably everyone else's too. 


Where I was still a goody in my girlhood days, I did feel the urge.
The urge to not comply. 
At that time Anthony and Flea had already met (Anthony was born exactly 3 years before I was, november 1st, Flea 15 days before him) and shared much of  their adolescent years. Punk was kind of their lifestyle. 
In 83 they started playing together. Though I was unaware of them then, it was at that time I chose to cut my hair to ragged, dyed it black and decided to be as off as I dared to be. Started rolling with the punks in my little hometown. 
Though punk had blended with new wave at that time...I felt like a punk. 
The good citizens of my hometown perceived me as a punk. Not in a nice way. It suited me just fine. 
It gave me the freedom not to give a shit about their approval. 
Geez it was so frigging liberating. 
No more hiding, except from daylight, as much as I could.  

As little daylight as possible, music at the centre of existence, dancing all night long, hanging out while having conversations about the 'no future' we saw so clearly, smoking, drinking a lot of jägermeister (somehow that was the cheapest booze in the local club) with friends (and friendships seemed endless and real, and we laughed, oh my did we laugh!) and a buffet of drugs. 
Smoking, snorting and a freebase here and there. 
My inner good girl prevented me from going all out in that. Or maybe I was just scared. Not prepared to die for sure. 
I've tried everything that was available to me, trusted my boyfriend John  implicitly. I knew he was there to catch me always. 

A lot of people died. Ian Curtis did, Sid did, Darby did and devastatingly..so did Hillel. 
I remember reading about Hillel. It seemed unreal..too young, too talented...too beautiful. 
Some of my friends and a lot of people in my periphery seemed to be driving in that fast lane too...and quite of few of them crashed their way to the otherside on drugs too. 
I decided that I wanted to live. I had things to do. So I did what I was supposed to do. I lived on. 
So did Flea and Anthony. 

The days of punk birthed punkrock and from that many many new music flowed forth. I always praise myself lucky for having been young in the times this all happened. The realness of it all...the music, the many many bands I went to see, the rawness of the punkrock music, which grew into more melodic new wave..with its melancholy and sadness. 
And then there was this band, that stuck to the liveliness of punkrock but dunked it in funk with a side of hiphop ...exactly representing what I needed music to be; raw, happy, mad, jumpable, new and original! 
My love for the Red Hot Chili Peppers was etched into my soul. For ever. 

Amazed for life. 
Red Hot Chili Peppers, thank you for being. 


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