And what it was... in their own words....
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"I pretty much based my existence on a credo of 'doing the wrong thing.' Knowing full well it was wrong, or just plain stupid. But I had to see. A seemingly unhealthy curiosity to see what would happen. 'You can't do that' I'd hear or think. 'But, what if I did . . .' It was like an inverse Greek chorus. And now I know."
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"Only an asshole would attempt to glorify an entire era such as this. It wasn't 'important.' It wasn't 'defining.' But for each of us, there were moments, or nights, when it was. And that has everything to do with the fact that we didn't know any better. And that's a beautiful feeling, and one that you'll never get back. Hey, all is well."
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"Cleveland's punk scene has always been overshadowed by the obvious giants - New York and LA. But I still say, even to this day, that I could pick a team off our playground that would outdrink, outwrite, out humor and out punk any town's best. And in true Cle spirit, after it all, extend a warm hand and offer a couch to crash on."
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"Once, as I strolled through Coventry, an 'MMS shithead came up to me, eyed my homemade Germs T-shirt, shook his head and said, 'Styx makes more sense.' And you ask why I was into punk?
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"Boredom. Bored with our hapless sports teams. Bored with the music being forced on us by the local radio giants. Bored. Some musicians decided to take matters into their own hands. Clubs sprang up and disappeared faster than flames spreading across the Cuyahoga. Many nights being aware that you were watching one of the greatest rock-and-roll bands in the world. The best bands that only you and maybe 80 other people even knew existed. No longer bored, now you felt bitter."
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"The best thing was meeting people that were as fucked up as you were. The characters that had gotten there first were great as well. Chrome, Hudson, Jones, Yarmock, Morton, DeGidio and the likes were very accepting and encouraging. They helped it grow like one of those bible begat tales. It seemed that someone had decided, "Hey, let's throw this party", and it carried on for years. Actually, it still is."
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"Cleveland. "The Rock-N-Roll Capital Of The World". Not because Alan Freed started here. Not Because WMMS said it was so. Not because there's a museum. But because it truly was a breeding ground where some of the greatest fuckin' bands ever to walk onto a stage, lived, drank, laughed and died. Together.
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"I hate Michael Stanley."
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"We really had no expectations. It was a lot like going to a Tribe game at Municipal Stadium. You knew they would probably lose and that the seats would be mostly empty.....but at the same time, it was still so much fun. Sitting off in a deserted section with a couple of friends, sipping Strohs out of paper cups. And every now and then a home run or something. That is how I remember the Cle punk scene."
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"I remember the first time I went to the Drome. A twenty spot bought me a shitload of 45s, and that was the start of a semi-monthly pilgrimage that lasted till I split Cle.
I ain't lookin' for an, 'atta boy' but I never swiped a record from Dromette. The thought never entered my mind. To keep it in perspective though, I never kicked the shit out of my dealers either."
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"There was always that heavy boot of Cleveland's entertainment powers placed firmly upon the lid of Cle's underground. However, with the resilience of rats, we snuck out and scampered about. Clubs opened and closed fast (the exterminators came often). The only way onto vinyl was to do it yourself. But in the end, justification came. There now is a worldwide interest in the sounds that came from those dark Cleveland shadows."
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"Like rats we prowled the night streets of Cleveland in search of the quick beer and cig money or overdue rent money. We played in bands, partied and practiced all night. The only job that made any sense was driving a taxi. An Offbeat on St. Clair, Starvation Army at the airport, Floyd on Scranton, Lair and Shaw, and many others. It was an edgy job for an edgy life style and a rite of passage for a lot of punks back then. It legitimized our passion for the music and living like there w as no tomorrow."
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"Been going to see rock bands since I was 16 in 72, The Doobie Bros. opening for T.Rex at the Parma Theatre, Pink Floyd in the gym at Kent, Alex Harvey at the Joker, Guns and Roses at Music Hall, Black Flag at the Variety, Runaways/Ramones tour, KISS /NY Dolls tour, Ziggy Stardust tour, Klaus Naomi at the Bank, shit even saw Fanny at the Smiling Dog Saloon on my 18th birthday. Well you get my point alot of great shows spanning alot of years. Still the very best live show I ever saw goes hands down to Cleveland own Pink Holes on every fucking occasion I ever saw them. What the fuck you say? It's just that everything worked in that band... They take a great guitarist like Freddy and put him on drums. Take a great drummer like Bob Richey and put him on guitar. Cocky snide preening Les Black and Cheese bass slung at the knees, the 3 stooges all in one guy. It always felt like they were in on some joke on the audience. Like we were there for their amusement rather than the other way around."
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"I was thrilled when Bob Sablack and Tim Kelly invited me to play drums in their new band Zombie Nun. I had my drums set up in this big attic where I was living. I mean how hard could it be to play punk rock drums.
Two songs later my audition was over.
The moral?
You know you must seriously suck on drums when you get booted from a band and you're the one with the practice space."
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"I used to love walking the alley that ran next to the original Agora. After carrying your shit down into the Pop Shop and sound checking, you headed back out into the night and cut through that alley over to the 2300 Club. There you would get primed for your gig, buying ice cold Rolling Rock longnecks off Rita. Sometimes Nunzi was behind the bar as well. When you swaggered back through the alley to go play, Boris would always be hanging on those steps. Now, it's all a fuckin' parking lot."
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"When Floyd joined the scene, he soon became a critically important component. If you were out at a show or at a party, and he didn't show up.......you knew you were at the wrong place. Floyd had a nose for the best action in town. I know this sounds a bit like a joke, but it was true. As the evening grew later, people would say, "hey, where do you think Floyd's at....what else is going on?" He was our Punxsutawney Phil."
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"The Flats. My first time down there was near the end of '78. I caught the Pagans at the Pirates Cove. The only other bar I remember seeing open then was Fagans. Anyhow, after the show, I walked out into the street, which was lined with only a handful of motorcycles and rusty autos. Down the street a bit, a guy started firing off shots, aimlessly, from a .22 rifle, while yelling out mean shit about his woman. I crouched behind a car and then watched him drive off. Unfortunately, nothing stays gold forever. The Flats suck now."
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"Someone recently said to me: "This is great! Everyone's back!" In truth, no one ever left. We just retreated to our living rooms and often thought about how great things were. I personally never stopped, spending the 90's recording in my home studio. This is why the original Otto Moser's was so important. You got to see everyone on a regular basis, get drunk, update each other and often start something new. Now that the 90's are over let's all meet at the Beachland! I'll buy the first round!"
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"Jane Scott is still a goddess. She's over 70 now and is still so fuckin nuts it's great. One time I went to see Lou Reed at a 'MMS coffee break gig at the Agora and it was like 120 degrees in the club. Of course, I wouldnt take off my leather, even though it was mid-August. So in the middle of the show I walked outside to cool down, and there was Jane on the sidewalk who said,"what did you think of the show?" I answered, "I dunno... too damn hot in there." Her review the next day started with a line that went something like, "Various members of the Pink Holes said the show was really hot!"
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"I saw an old friend yesterday, it wasn't easy, we stood and searched for things to say. And then, we went in a bar, and in the dim green light, he said, "Mike, what ever happened to the world we knew last night?" Now, all our friends are messed up and there's never enough of anything to go around. This town is like death. Myself, I feel like a wreck. With that he left."
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partial lyrics of Pagans '(Us And) All Our Friends Are So Messed Up'
"I think the Cleveland music scene was a direct reflection of living in Cleveland. What do you expect when you grow up in a city where your icons are The Ghoul, Mushmouth Marzetti and various insane news anchors that hosted children's television shows. I haven't met a person from Cleveland yet that doesn't know what you mean when you say, "Pluck your magic twanger, Froggy!", or hasn't seen The "Moronic Woman"."...Isss thattt aaalll therrre isss......". Let's all sing along!"
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"Drummers should be heard and not seen!"
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"The underground scene was like a secret society. The same 100 people showed up at every show. Even if you didn't know a certain person by name, you recognized them from a previous show. The more people you met made you realize that everyone was in a band, or looking to start a band. There was a truckload of talent and dozens of great bands. That's the problem with secret societies! They're secret!"
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"I vaguely remember a film with a title like Angel or Princess about a girl who had run away and become a prostitute in LA . It mighta had Bronson in it. Anyhow, the parents try to find her and bring her home. When they finally do, she says, "what do you want me to do, go back to Cleveland and be an alcoholic!" I got the feeling that everyone was hip to the fact that booze flows in this town the way water does over Niagara Falls. I think the music from here proudly backs that up."
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"A bunch of wasted youth, caught in some fucking meaningless musical uprising, in a meaningless town. Directionless energy and addictions. Depression and worthless friendships. Alcoholism. Laughing at the guy who can't stand up. People fucking people, without regard to whom it would matter. Every earned cent blown on one's skull. A bunch of wasted youth. Cle Punk...what a fuckin' joke."
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"How about those faces that are at every show but you have no idea who they are. The dude that looks like Ringo. That short skinny guy with the long hair that is always drinking Rolling Rock. The really tall guy that only has one arm. There is a bunch of them. You are probably thinking of some of your own familiar faces right now. You walked the same steps for many years with them and, still, have never met them...who the fuck are they? You think I am one of them too?"
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"Detroit may have had Iggy, but we had Stiv... At one Agora show he grabbed an empty chair (of which there were many) from the audience, stood on it, threw a mic cord over the lighting ballast and wrapped the hanging cord around his neck. He pulled like a motherfucker until he was hanging 8" in the air. Now Stiv was a little shit, but it took 2 or 3 of the Agora's finest jackbooted thugs to pull the kicking and spitting Bators to the ground. Stiv held his own... Believe me..."
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"One fine Saturday in May in the way-early seventies, Peter Laughner paid a social call on John Morton in his parent’s suburban enclave in Lakewood (from his parent’s enclave in Bay Village.) At some point in the festivities, Peter had to use the facilities and curiously removed his sunglasses and placed them on the chair he had occupied. On his return he sat on them. He looked at Morton (knowing the lad had known) and asked, "Why didn’t you stop me?" Morton’s reply, "I thought you did it on purpose."
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"Some places just felt like home. The Pirates Cove, Tuckys, the Pop Shop, Mosers, the 2300 Club, the Underground, the Lakefront... Those places made me feel like I was getting drunk with friends. Other spots never had it... The Euclid Tavern, the Phantasy, Biggies, the Grog Shop. I can't say why, just a gut feeling. I thought my time had passed by or something. But the Beachland, now there is a place... Who woulda thought on E.156th and Waterloo that you could go home again."
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"Cleveland is to music as Kucinich is to politics."