WHAT’S THE POINT IN SAYING “DESTROY”?

While I certainly responded to the pointed political anger of punk, and to the general ether of anger floating through punk (I swear that nothing could put me to sleep in a more efficient and complete manner when I was 16 than listening to the Pistols at volume levels courting pure distortion), what ultimately won the day for me was the confrontational positivity of punk.

The first time I heard the first Clash album, I was sitting in the same local park that I had retreated to upon news of my father’s death four years prior. It was late fall, it was cold, and I was characteristically underdressed. The air from conversation among friends was visible, and quickly mingled into one breath.

Clash City Rockers started with its stuttering guitars and thudding drums, and then came Joe Strummer with his sputtering vocals, and I was lifted off the ground. From my new elevation I heard “You won’t succeed unless you try!” The air was nearly visible again.

I felt immediately as if I had found another friend, the crucial kind who understands you, to whom you don’t need to explain an obscure reference or an obscure mood. The kind who is going to share your frustration that “things” are fucked up, but is not going to let you wallow in it. You got a problem? Well, whatcha gonna do?

And that’s what punk rock means to me…