That J.W. would fetishize a detail from a 1st generation US hardcore LP and present it as art resonated with me instantly. I, too, had a direct fascination with that particular subculture though from a distinctly different arc. I was already somewhat established as an experimental, post no wave downtown NYC art rock musician. A situation which gave immediate validity to be a bedfellow with any chosen discipline. Hardcore, as exemplified by the east coast faction of Dischord Records (Minor Threat, SOA, Void, Faith et al), NYC (Urban Waste, pre-hip hop Beastie Boys, The Nihilistics), Mid West (Negative Approach, Necros, The Fix), L.A. (Black Flag, Adolescents, Wasted Youth) and S.F. (Flipper primarily) was an incredible movement in its first generation. It took punk as an elemental tool towards an alternative teen identity recasting the music as a loud/fast cultural collective. As the players were so young their ritualistic dance and statement of purpose was deliriously genuine. In retrospect it is as vivid a living rock and roll subgenre as no wave, reggae, hip-hop, it's predecessor of punk and the avant-garde transitions of glitter and glam. I am indeed a solid decade older than Jocko and was in full puppy love with glam as it strutted it's gutter trash exotica through early 70s NYC and beyond. When the Ramones, the Heartbreakers, Television, Patti Smith, Richard Hell, Talking Heads, Blondie et al began their earliest prowlings it was a delectable manifestation of what the New York Dolls, Lou Reed, Eno, Wayne County had been threatening and flirting with. The intellectualism of William Burroughs, the sex rock of Marc Bolan, the drop-dead insolence of Iggy Pop etc. etc. had lit the fuse and 1977 introduced probably the last great pre-wired introduction of culture shakers of the 20th century.
I so personalized myself into this history that I needed to clutch at any documentation of it in order to breathe. Of course the 80s/90s would lead me off into a whole new pertinent trajectory of community beyond glam, punk, no wave, hardcore but I always felt the romantic pull of nostalgia to these seismic periods and how they constructively inform me as an artist - be it music, literature or what we have here.
This series of collages entitled Street Mouth (1-14) I had been working on since seeing the early "poem-posters" of Charles Henri Ford which along with the living poetry of Ted Berrigan and friends on the mid-60s East Village, seemingly introduced Warhol to such starlit epiphany. Almost all the photographs are by a regal scene of photographers who will probably be livid at these appropriations. Leee Black Childers, Mick Rock, Bob Gruen etc. are as significant as the subjects they shoot and as the actual photos themselves but I am basing the work on exercises I did as a teenager cutting out pictures from Rock Scene, Creem and Circus magazines and collaging them as an obsessive diarist. Doing this work now utilizing some kind of punk Photoshop method where I can actually drop myself and other referentials into the pieces has allowed me at age 47 to create an ongoing open-heart bio-historagophy.