New Dreams

Anna – Journal Entry March
7, 1987

My older sister Diane and her friend Violet took me and my best friend Max to our first punk rock show last night.  We rode the bus down Belmont Avenue from my house and watched it get progressively seedier.
 
We got off a Clark Street and I was instantly in love.  I looked at Diane and said I wanted to live down there.  She told me I was silly and I needed to “shut the fuck up” before some skinhead would beat me up.  Max had his usual stoic, disinterested look on his face, but I knew he was just as excited as I was.

We walked up Clark for what felt like miles, watching the neighborhood change from punks and skins to bars and baseball fans.  We crossed Addison and Violet said “we’re almost there, kiddos.”  As we walked up to the Cabaret Metro, the sign read “NAKED RAYGUN.” 

Naked Raygun was the band that sparked my interest in punk rock.  Their songs were fun to sing along to and they weren’t the typical macho hardcore band.
They seemed smart, like Violet and Diane.  They seemed like the types who read books, but worked for a living.  

As we walked into the mostly empty venue, I looked around and the ornate arch over the stage that contrasted the black walls and floor.  Strange cartoons played on the TV screens that lined the giant speaker system.
Max asked if we could stand up front for the bands and Diane said “not
this time.  Your moms would kill us if you got killed.”
 

Violet ushered us up to the balcony, positioning us against the railing and said “don’t move!”  She ran back downstairs to rejoin Diane at the front of the stage.  Violet is Max’s older cousin and my sister’s best friend.  I’ve known Max and Violet my entire life and they’re the family I wished I had.  We sat through the opening bands, who were both very good, but as soon as Naked Raygun started playing, the entire venue erupted with energy.  A group of large men were doing what Diane called a “wall of death,” where they stand arm-in-arm and charge forward, crushing all of the people in front of them.  By the middle of the first song, there were kids climbing up on stage and jumping off.
As soon as Max saw this, he darted downstairs, pushing his way to the
front, climbing up on stage and taking a running jump, right over Violet and
Diane’s heads.  I didn’t see him again until just before their last song.  He
came back covered in sweat with the biggest smile I’ve ever seen on his
face.  “THAT WAS AWESOME” he yelled.  We agreed that we would never miss another punk rock show ever again. 

On our way back down Clark Street towards Belmont, Violet repeated scolded Max for disobeying her, but he didn’t care.  He kept rolling his eyes saying “Look, I’m OK.  Stop being an asshole.”

When we got back to Belmont, we saw two men in suits and
black hats beating up a punk rocker. This was the greatest night of my life.

©Copyright 2016 Two Purple Lights. All Rights Resevered.
We do not own this song.  It only changed our lives.