American Bands in Vancouver
Scott Beadle | May 10, 2010 in Avengers, Black Flag, Dead Kennedys, Dils
Vancouver’s location as the northern terminus of a west coast punk touring circuit meant that there was an inevitable north-south cultural dialogue. The influence of bands from San Francisco and Los Angeles on the Vancouver scene outweighed the influence of contemporary bands from the rest of Canada, or even Seattle.
The first California punk band to visit Vancouver was San Francisco’s Avengers, making the trip in April 1978. The Avengers were well-regarded and made fast friends. DOA’s first booking at San Francisco’s Mabuhay Gardens was secured on the Avengers’ recommendation. In December 1978 their guitarist Greg Ingraham left the band, and his replacement was Brad Kent, who had recently left DOA. He helped finish recording the Avengers’ American In Me 12-inch EP, but in June 1979 they disbanded.
The next California band to make a major impression was San Francisco’s The Dils, featuring L.A. transplants Chip and Tony Kinman. Their first visit to Vancouver was in May 1979 with DOA: both bands toured North America that spring, sharing many dates together. Later, Zippy Pinhead (of Rabid) became the Dils’ new drummer. They recorded the Made In Canada 7-inch EP in Vancouver. (The Kinman Brothers’ next band, country-punk pioneers Rank & File, was also popular in Vancouver.)
The Dead Kennedys’ first trip to Vancouver was in April 1979, opening for the K-Tels. By the time they returned in November they were one the biggest names in punk, and this time the K-Tels (now renamed Young Canadians) opened for them. Jello Biafra was a fan of the Vancouver scene, making several long-term friendships. In 1981 the Dead Kennedys were the first west coast punk band invited to play in London, England, and they demanded that the promoters add DOA to the bill, too (the was the first of many UK trips for DOA). In later years, Jello Biafra would record album-length collaborations with DOA and Victoria BC's NoMeansNo.
Black Flag came to Vancouver in February 1980, and like the Dead Kennedys’ first visit, they were fairly unknown. They had one record under their belt, the Nervous Breakdown 7-inch on their own SST label. Singer Keith Morris had already left the band; replacement Ron Reyes and his bandmates were easily adopted as kindred spirits by the Vancouver scene. When Reyes left Black Flag after the Jealous Again EP, he settled down in Vancouver, where he raised a family and still lives today.
Other U.S. bands that formed close relationships with the Vancouver punk scene included the bands X, from Los Angeles; Husker Du, from Minneapolis; and the Fastbacks, from Seattle.
Black Flag in Vancouver
When I was a member of the Secret V's we used to practice in a warehouse in Japantown. Several musicians lived there, one guy even had nice recording studio in there. As I recall Ray Tremblay (aka Ray Condo,R.I.P.), our bass player, had a space there for awhile so we used to practice in his 'room'. I can't remember exactly when - sometime in '79 or early '80, Black Flag showed up at the warehouse. We were excited to meet them when they dropped by our practice space to listen to us. Unexpectedly, they asked us if they could use our equipment and play something. Of course, we said 'sure'! Up to then they were quiet and polite - seemed like nice guys. When they started to play,though,they were very intense, almost scary -it was powerful stuff. We just stood there with our mouths open. I remember the singer had a toy doll in his
hand and was slamming it on the floor to each side of him while he sang...okkkaay... They finished the song said
'thanks' and left. That was Black Flag.
Richard Fuller
Black Flag in Vancouver '85
This is a story I wrote for the excellent Canadian Punk rock website - but it seems to have ceased operating and was never posted. Anyway, this documents a show at the Waterfront Cabaret on Powell at Heatley - a short-lived venue that hosted such acts as Alien Sex Fiend and the Minutemen. Black Flag also played there in their second last Vancouver show.
Keeping warm with Black Flag: The thrill of promoting LA's most notorious punk band
By Ed Banger
When I got into promoting Vancouver bands in early 1980s, I went into it with the idea that I was only going to promote acts that I liked, or at least groups I thought were important. An instant recipe for disaster or poverty as punk was not popular in the early '80s with the masses.
The first show I ever promoted was in November 1980 at Killarney Highschool, featuring a bill of the Young Canadians and Rude Norton. The group's manager, Pino Rogaletti aka Gerry Barad, a legendary figure in the early Vancouver punk scene, wanted $800 for the bill - sound system and lights included. We took in $805 at the door - so a good start. Rude Norton rocked the East Van kids with raunchy covers of the Stones and their own goofy songs, while headliner the Young Canadians stiffed and didn't play their best known song, "Hawaii." The latter soon broke up - but in one night I was able to meet a lot of people I had admired from afar in Bill Hemy, Nick Jones, Dimwit, his brother Bob Montgomery and the Young Canadians power trio of Art Bergmann, Jim Bescott and Barry Taylor - these guys were the Rush of the punk rock set - all equally talented and none a better player than the other. If only they had stuck around a bit longer.
The next gig I veered a bit from my original thinking and co-promoted a dance with Jerry Doucette in Richmond at a great venue (now demolished) called the SeaIsle Forum - out near the airport. To book the Douce - I had to deal with Sam Feldman's agency - these people were definitely not punk rock - but more so, the people behind all the crap top-40 bar bands that had impeded the Vancouver music scene for years. They even had the indignity of insisting one of their acts open - so we ended up getting a band called
Horsecock or something like that belting out the latest Pat Benatar or Foreigner drivel. And there was also a food rider as part of the contract - which was like $2,000 or something - the Douce - who was like some kind of Jim Jones figure in person - only wanted Miller beer - seeing this horse piss was only in the States at the time - a trip was made across the border to procure the coveted brew.
This gig was put on with my pal Lumpy and his pal Jeff Hoogfeld, mainly for the people who we played hockey and got wrecked with. With the venue holding 500 people, I soon realised I didn't have enough pals as only 100 tickets were sold the day before the event. Thankfully, our Richmond pal Jeff spread the word and the place was packed on the night as the Douce (sans his famous white suit) rocked the beer-swilling masses. The gig turned a profit.
Fed up with having to rely on my limited amount of pals for an audience, I decided to start promoting punks bands to the public as by the early 1980s there were few hall gigs and even less shows at clubs.
After having good success in promoting DOA and SNFU in a couple of big shows at the New York Theatre at first, I started to look further a field to hopefully try and get some acts up from California.
I loved the Dead Kennedys and after seeing them at a hall show at 6th and Commercial on November 22, 1979 -- the anniversary of JFK's assassination and an all-star bill with the Subhumans, K-Tels and Private School in support -- it literally changed my life. I never listened to Van Halen again - a difficult proposition with the lugans frequenting my school in East Van at the time.
In Vancouver, the Dead Kennedys were big time and all their shows were promoted by Perryscope - easily the best and most exciting promoter in the city at the time. But while they stuck to a lot new wave and mainstream acts in their concert offerings, there were a lot of punk acts they didn't touch - and quite right, as there was little money in them at the time.
Black Flag was a group I loved. In the late '70s when California was bloated on Fleetwood Mac and cocaine, these punks were producing some much needed angst on the streets of Los Angeles.
I had seen Black Flag on a couple occasions and it is safe to say they never had a good relation with Vancouver audiences -- and quite right as the local punk scene was as happening, if not more happening, than what was coming out of LA at the time.
On one of their early visits to Vancouver in '79, the Flag played with DOA for three nights at Gary Taylor's Rock Room - a legendary nightclub on Hornby with bands upstairs, strippers downstairs and an abundance of shady figures who frequented the club in the back.
The Flag then came to Vancouver a lot over the next few years with shows in the ice rink at West End Community Center, UBC Sub Ballroom and a couple of times at the New York Theatre.
By late 1984 -- and with Henry Rollins having a habit of smacking Vancouver punks in the head from the stage -- the Flag was not a big draw locally. Undeterred, when Chuck Dukowski - the ex-Flag great - asked me if I wanted to arrange a gig for the band during a winter tour (the Flag was a touring machine), I jumped at the chance.
Since Dukowski wasn't asking for a guarantee - he knew Vancouver was not a good city for the Flag - I booked the band into the tiny Waterfront Cabaret - 600 block Powell - a bad part of town.
As my mission was to get the Flag and its traveling freak show -- including opening acts Tom Trocolis' Dog and St Vitus (three mean-looking but friendly Latinos traveling the highway to metal hell) -- a gig and some good cash --
it was an uphill battle.
With promoter Laurie Mercer putting on the second year of his Independent Daze festival on at the time - my Flag show was up against a bill with Poisoned, Herald Nix and Rhythm Mission at the nearby New York Theatre.
With no promo budget - I made the poster myself from various past Flag gig poster (gotta get the "bars" right) in Vancouver - and then photocopied hundreds of them at my workplace - the PNE - when the brass was out having “lunch” at the Villa.
Postering in winter in Vancouver sucks. I am sure people back east are used to it - but in the wet coast - where the hippies never died - it is a dismal experience. The posters won't stick to the poles, the canned milk and water mix freezes up - and the Vancouver cops are always lurking. Everything is usually wet. That said, I put up thousands of posters over the years and was never caught.
After postering like crazy and going on the excellent video program Soundproof - a true catalyst in helping the local scene - to promote the show -- the gig was quickly approaching.
On the Friday, the night before the show and with the band in Edmonton- it snowed a blizzard and kept snowing through the Saturday. I thought the show was doomed as Vancouver people seem to hibernate at the slight hint of inclement weather. But regardless, the Flag van towing a U-Haul, showed up in Vancouver by early afternoon. The "Slip It In Tour 85" had arrived. Apart from me, nobody else seemed much excited about it. Meeting the band at the club, I thought these guys were truly rock stars and not wide-eyed kids in a van like the majority of traveling musicians I had met. Greg Ginn looked like a rail-thin psycho killer while Henry Rollins - then in his long-hair period - looked like a buffed-up version of Jim Morrison and just as intense. The bass player was an equally-intense woman named Kira who doubled as the road manager, taking care of the finances. Bill Stevenson, the drummer, was just a nice guy, always willing to talk about his Flag experiences and taking most of the shit from the rest of the band - he was the most upbeat of a fairly morbid crew.
With time to kill in the afternoon and the Waterfront not yet open, the band ventured down Powell Street to have lunch in Japantown and to stay warm. I wish I had my camera because I will always remember Greg Ginn hunkering over a bowl of soup in this greasy spoon, likely wishing he was anywhere but freezing Vancouver in the winter. It was a Bev Davies black and white moment.
When the owner of the Waterfront did show up at 5pm, the Flag touring machine went into action. With the snow continuing to come down, the U-Haul was unlocked and a massive sound system was wheeled out and quickly set up.
When the show kicked off at 8.30pm, only a handful of people were in the crowd to see Tom Trocolli and his imaginary dog. St Vitus, one of the early purveyors of death metal, fared better as by this time, about 80 people were through the door at $6 a head.
Things were looking up by the time the Flag hit the stage as 110 paid customers were through the door. The sight of an in-form Henry Rollins (in those skimpy shorts, no less) and Greg Ginn with his famed transparent guitar blasting this tiny cabaret through such classics as My War, Slip It In and Black Coffee, had made all the hardships of putting on this show worthwhile.
I gave the Flag $600 and I pocketed US$60 that had come through the door from American fans up to visit. While the money was likely peanuts for the Flag, the Vancouver show served its purpose as the money more than paid for their expenses from Edmonton. Living on a cracker, the band ended up crashing at DOA's old headquarters Fort Gore, while a car with a couple of hot women took Henry Rollins away to Seattle for a spoken word show he was giving the next day.
Years later, I saw Henry Rollins' book "Get In the Van" and there was no mention of the Waterfront show. Instead, an entry from the following summer's Vancouver show where the singer writes "the promoter is ripping us off to our face." That was a guy named Norm Utas promoting that show (Where’s Norm today?). I went to that show and went and said hello to the band who were their usual morbid self. I told Rollins about me working at the PNE and the opening act for Aussie icon Rick Springfield that night was 'Til Tuesday. Hearing that, Rollins wanted to go to the gig and invite the Boston band that was enjoying a mega-hit with "Voices Carry" at the time to come see the Flag. Seeing as I could get us into the Pacific Coliseum no problem, I picked up Rollinslater and we went to the show - he was quite a sight stalking around the Coliseum concourse with all the teeny bop gals there to see Rick Springfield. He passed on a note inviting the Tuesdays to come see the Flag to a t-shirt vendor - Cathy Kleghorn - but alas, the rock stars, enjoying their five minutes of fame, never ventured to the New York Theatre. Their loss as the Flag was intense and great as usual - Greg Ginn, true to form, peeling off licks that would make most heavy metal guitar gods pee their pants.
Al Campbell aka Mr Ed Banger