You've probably by now figured out that Jon and I hail from Minneapolis and have both experienced the underground music scene there for most of our late teens and twenties. Eleven years ago, when I was seventeen years old, I was one of a group that helped foster the DIY punk rock spirit in what was really the heyday of hardcore punk in the Midwest. With a small group of like-minded friends, Garage Productions was born.
Garage was an entity that set up all-ages shows with hardcore bands around Minneapolis during 1984 and 1985. Our legacy was rather short but our impact important. Even ten years later, I still meet people who remember attending one or more of our shows when they were a teenage skatepunk. For some it was their first experience at a hardcore show, as the other all-ages venues in town were either gone or were booking only the larger acts (i.e. Black Flag, Minutemen). Garage would book any band that gave us a call.
Half of us were still in high school or had just graduated. The rest were on their own, pursuing their education or simply working and living. We were broke, always in the hole, and in debt to the phone company and someone's savings account – but had a drive to keep moving as much as we could, even when the chips were down.
Our first show was DRI and the Sluglords. We were most excited to have a big hardcore band like DRI agree to do our first show. We thought it would send us off with a bang and set the tone for the rest of the summer. We rented a VFW hall in a seedy neighborhood of South Minneapolis and set the date for what turned out to be a hot, muggy and sweaty slam-fest. It was so hot that day – I remember Shannon Selberg (now singer for the Cows) showing up after his job as an ice-cream truck driver ready to see the show and ending up selling out his inventory between sets to the fans as well as to the neighborhood kids who showed up to stare at the weird looking punks who had invaded their turf.
Other shows included Government Issue, Iron Cross, The Freeze, 7 Seconds, The Crucifucks, Corrosion Of Conformity, The Tar Babies, Stiff Legged Sheep, Raw Power (Italy), Riisteyet (Finland), Tales Of Terror, Meatjoy, Verbal Abuse, Mental Crisis and numerous local bands – Skull Fuck, Outcry, Ground Zero, DKV, and others. The majority of our shows were at Whittier Park (a small City Of Minneapolis park building with a sympathetic director) and various VFW halls. 7 Seconds was held at a Catholic elementary school; Stiff Legged Sheep at a Garage member's house.
There were a lot of things that would happen at Garage shows. The guest list would grow incessantly, our volunteer security force would outnumber the crowd. The bands would be late. The rooms would get oppressively hot and often had little if any ventilation. The PA system would frequently shut down because of the enormous demands we placed on a hall's power supply. Rented speakers would blow.
Perhaps our biggest financial gamble was putting on the Crucifucks show. The gig was set to follow shortly after a huge Dead Kennedys concert and we hoped that we could attract a few hundred of the few thousand that would show up to see the Kennedys. We plastered the town and the DKs show with our masterpiece "Jesus-with-a-mohawk" flyer designed by artist Paul Hammerlink. The Crucifucks had just released a killer record on Alternative Tentacles and singer Doc Dart had a reputation for being quite the front man, with his shrill and whiny delivery and middle-aged escaped mental patient look. As it turned out, perhaps 65 people showed up. Mostly our regulars and the ever-present volunteer security force. The Crucifucks were awesome – one of the best gigs I've ever seen. The Tar Babies were awesome, too, as well as our local Tucumcari Rattlers. Most of Minneapolis missed it! We had already taken a blow to the bank account because of the expense of printing three color flyers and leaving a damage deposit on the hall. Because of the small crowd, we ended the evening struggling to meet our financial obligations. To pay the Tar Babies we depended on getting our damage deposit returned. For that to happen the buckets and mops had to come out right away. We quickly cleaned the place while the crotchety VFW guy and the tired band stood and watched, waiting to get paid and get back on the road.
The show we did with The Freeze from Boston was probably our biggest and, as it turned out, bloodiest disaster. We had penciled the gig in our calendar as a tentative show; the band's manager had it confirmed and the band called nearly a week out of Minneapolis to re-confirm. We quickly found a too-small venue and got flyers out on the street less than a week before the show. I remember hanging out of a moving car passing out flyers to a line outside of the First Avenue nightclub. The Freeze had sound system requirements that included a 16 channel board with four to five monitors that further crowded the already too small stage and venue when everything was loaded in and set up. Terry Katzman of Oarfolkjokeopus Records (now owner of Garage D'Or records) thankfully came down to run the board, as no one else would have known what to do. The early part of the evening went fine, albeit for the incredibly hot and humid atmosphere and the loud-as-shit PA in a hall the size of a small apartment. The worst was yet to come, however. Freeze singer Cliff Hanger had imbibed a bit too much before their set and after about the fourth or fifth song fell teeth first into the barrage of monitors crowded in front of the stage. Show was over, Cliff was rushed to the hospital, later flown back to Boston, and the rest of their national tour cancelled. Cliff required oral surgery to fix his damaged mouth. Apparently, he had no insurance and called me (a 17 year old living at home with no job) to ask for financial assistance.
Raw Power with Riisteyet was the most international of our shows. Neither band spoke much English and communication was difficult. Raw Power were the nicest bunch of guys while Riisteyet were more interested in their hairdos than talking to us. But for the opposite personalities, both bands delivered sets of the most blistering loud hardcore I've ever witnessed. It was incredible. After the show, we took Raw Power to the Leaning Tower Of Pizza and they proclaimed it the best pizza they'd had in America to date. Riisteyet chose to ignore our hospitality and instead went to the local Embers coffee shop, ate steak dinners, skipped out on their bill and showed up at the pizza place to brag about it.
We were lucky to book Corrosion of Conformity, years before they became popular in the speed-metal circuit. Probably one of the nicest bands I've ever dealt with. The gig was booked fairly quickly and without a lot of notice and when all was said and done, they were genuinely happy to take the sum of $20 that we had left to pay them. They were appreciative of the chance to play an all-ages show in Minneapolis and have a little gas money. That was all.
7 Seconds was our biggest show and came off without a hitch for a change. The spirit that Kevin Seconds put into the show was contagious and he had a lot of fans among the younger skateset which helped boost our attendance. The show was a massive frenzy of stage diving, singalongs, slam dancing and sweat. The nuns at the Catholic elementary school didn't even bother us. I remember the knee-high drinking fountains and urinals provided between-set entertainment. (I also remember something about a dead squirrel being passed about outside and photographed with a few local band members).
Those days hold many fond memories for me. It gave me a connection that I've yet to feel again – a connection to a network of people that were making things happen. A spirit of comradely and cooperation, with our naiveté sometimes paving the way for the sobering reality of the fledgling business we were running by the seat of our pants. I felt a part of something that seemed small locally, but was really a global phenomenon, exploding in the pages of fanzines, at record stores and in small auditoriums.