How much hardcore can you take?

Repo Man, Drain, Vlautin & Donoso

Greetings from Medellin!

We arrived in Colombia a little after midnight on Sunday morning and we spent the first 48 hours in a neighborhood called El Poblado. Nuvia is presenting at an international education conference that kicked off yesterday so we spent the first two days meeting up with people and gearing up for the conference.

I don’t have any events scheduled in Colombia. No readings or punk shows or meet-ups with online acquaintances, and I’m enjoying my role as Nuvia’s support staff. For the first two days I was basically Nuvia’s lunch and dinner companion, but now that the conference is underway, I’ve been exploring the city, focusing on my own work, and drinking a shitload of coffee. I’ll share some of the sights and sounds of Medellin in next week’s Message from the Underworld.

I’m currently sitting on the outdoor patio of our hotel in Laureles, listening to soft rock versions of songs like “Maniac,” “Take on Me” and “Smells Like Teen Spirit” while Colombian businessmen scream into their mobile phones and scooters zip by in the street.

Today, I want to talk about a quick trip I took to LA on Friday because it was a jam packed adventure. But before I do that, I want to wish you a happy Juneteenth and direct your attention to this short interview I did with Tananarive Due about her Bram Stoker-winning novel The Reformatory.

You would think after driving to Las Vegas for Punk Rock Bowling and to Pomona for No Values, that the last thing I’d feel like doing is driving up to LA to see a gang of hardcore bands the night before my morning flight to South America, and you would be wrong.

But before I hit the Hollywood Palladium, I made a detour at the New Beverly Cinema for an afternoon screening of the greatest movie ever made. Of course, I’m talking about…

Repo Man

I’d never seen Repo Man on the big screen before and wanted to experience the movie in a theater. I bought a ticket in advance but arrived during the previews because of the LA traffic that never needs a reason to be gnarly. I scooped up one of the last empty seats near the back of the theater. The seat felt tiny and the sound wasn’t all the great, but I had a blast laughing along to one of my favorite flicks.

It felt like most people knew all the jokes and laughed at all the crowd-pleasing lines—“Let’s go eat sushi and not pay!” got a big laugh—but I sensed, and I don’t know how this is possible, something akin to delighted surprise in the tone of the laughter, like maybe the people around me had forgotten how rich the dialog is or how much information there is in every scene, but was it possible some people in the audience were hearing these jokes for the first time?

Was such a thing even knowable from the tenor of the laughter?

I know so much about this movie, and I will always want to know more, but different things make an impression on me each time I see it.

What jumped out at me this time was what a likable little creep Emelia Estevez is as Otto Maddox. Otto is an utterly unlikable hero—especially by the standards of teen comedies circa 1984, but in Repo Man Otto is fantastic.

It shouldn’t work. Otto lacks authenticity, he has no desires or goals, and is fickle in his relationships to virtually everyone in the film. As a punk, he’s kind of a doofus and his get-up is all wrong. It’s a costume for him, which he sheds once he’s embraced by the repo men. As a romantic partner, he’s a pig. And as a repo man, he’s basically along for the ride. The plot of the movie hinges on finding a Chevy Malibu with a mysterious cargo, but everyone in the film wants it more than Otto does. He does nothing to raise the stakes. If anything, he’s an obstacle.

Yet Otto has this inflexible irascibility that makes him irresistible on the screen. Even when his former friend is literally dying in his arms, Otto refuses to be agreeable and calls him out on his bullshit, generating one of the best scenes in the movie.

When I saw Repo Man for the first time, I secretly wished I was more like Otto, which is not the message the filmmakers intended.

Drain at the Hollywood Palladium

Drain’s Living Proof was my favorite album of 2023 and with all the traveling I did last year I kept missing them. So when I found out the band was going on tour with a bunch of hardcore bands this spring, I circled the LA dates on my calendar. I even reached out to the band about interviewing them, and we had tentative plans to do so, but they were kiboshed by the tour manager for some reason.

Anyway, Epitaph was kind enough to set me up with tickets. I missed the first band, Slugger, but rolled in just in time for Baltimore’s End It. I couldn’t figure out the singer’s vibe. He wore a white polo shirt tucked into khaki slacks and a bucket hat. He looked like a jacuzzi salesman at a company picnic. They played some of my favorite songs, including “New Age Slavery” and “The Comeback.” Tons of fun and a pretty decent turnout for 5:30 in the afternoon.  

Next was a band called Lion and the lead singer was also part of the bucket hat brigade. Then came Mindforce from New York, a band I wasn’t too familiar with but I enjoyed. I also liked that the singer wore a Tears for Fears T-shirt and dedicated a song to his wife at home. It’s nice to see practitioners of contemporary hardcore drop the macho posturing.

End It, Mindforce, Downpresser

Next up was Downpresser, another band I listened to a ton while on the road last year, and I went up to the front again. Great set but it was too short. There’s an epic quality to Downpresser that requires space, but the band may have kept the show short out of necessity since they have a new drummer. The singer dedicated the set to the band’s former drummer, Cayle Sain, who unexpectedly passed away late last year. It must have been a difficult show for Downpresser, and kudos for playing through some intense emotions. “Don’t Need a Reason” and “Beyond Recognition” were everything I wanted them to be.

Next came H20, a band I interviewed for Flipside way back in 1996. The drummer, who was born in the year 2000, is lead vocalist Toby Morse’s son. Wild. In the middle of “Don’t Forget Your Roots” they rumbled into Fugazi’s “Waiting Room” with Morse singing from the crowd. They closed out their set with “Guilty by Association,” a catchy little number with a mean bass line that’s been stuck in my head ever since. Good times.

I’ve tried to get into Angel Du$t but it’s not for me so I went up to the Lawrence Welk Room to sit down, drink a Red Bull, and write down some notes. As is often the case, as I was scribbling in the semi-dark, I had some ideas that helped me hit the ground running when I got back to work on Black Van.

Downpresser, H2O, Lawrence Welk Room

I went back down to the floor for Terror, the people’s hardcore of Los Angeles. They’ve been around forever but lots of young people were shouting out the lyrics. Lots of women. Lots of Black, brown, and Asian kids across a range of ages. A true microcosm of LA, which isn’t always the case at hardcore shows. It was cool to see old white dudes like me in the minority.

Then came Drain, the main attraction. It felt like it took a minute for Sammy’s voice to warm up but the band performed an energetic set that got everybody moving. Circle pits started up all over the dance floor throughout the show. At one point two distinct pits opened up on either side of me and spontaneously joined. Fascinating. I’ve never seen the Palladium jumping like that where everyone in the crowd is dancing. I want to go to more shows like that.

Speaking of old hardcore bands, remember when I was rambling about Excel a few weeks ago? They’re playing this Saturday June 22 in the Constellation Room at the Observatory in Santa Ana. It’s an all ages show with Zig Zags. If I was in town, that’s where I’d be.

Terror, Drain, Tijuana

Will Vlautin and José Donoso

During the drive up to LA and back and I listened to Willy Vlautin read his short, devastating novel The Motel Life. It’s a quiet book that is mostly set within a few blocks of Reno. It’s also an emotional rollercoaster with brief moments of triumph to off-set the relentless devastation of lives lived at the margins of society. The Motel Life is Vlautin’s first novel and I’ll be reviewing his newest book, The Horse, next month.  

I’m currently reading Megan McDowell’s new translation of José Donoso’s The Obscene Bird of Night, a classic of Latin American literature that is also a weird fucking book. At times it’s like watching a puppet show with the volume turned down. Makes me think of those stop motion movies by the Quay Brothers that I used to see on MTV all the time. It’s never the book I think I’m reading.

Razorcake subscription drive

Just a few weeks left to go in the annual Razorcake subscription drive and we’re halfway there! Do your part and subscribe to America’s only no-profit independent music magazine.

LA Drugz

My friend Justin Mauer is celebrating the reissue of the EP Outside Place by the power pop cartel LA Drugz, which is available everywhere. The video tribute to the greatest movie of all time is a banger. Check it out!

If you’re new-ish here and you liked this newsletter you might also like my latest novel Make It Stop, or the paperback edition of Corporate Rock Sucks: The Rise & Fall of SST Records, or my book with Bad Religion, or my book with Keith Morris. I have more books and zines for sale here. Message from the Underworld comes out every Wednesday and is always available for free, but paid subscribers also get Orca Alert! on most Sundays. It’s a weekly round-up of links about art, culture, crime, and killer whales.