Here are results of the first year of touring with Black Flag: Hank’s old friends think he has become an asshole; one of them (Ian MacKaye) cries after seeing his pal transformed into a thoughtless jerk; bandmates worry that their new singer is a violent mental case; a record producer accuses Henry of ruining the band; he gets dumped by a couple of girlfriends (whom he mainly uses as vessels for his rage, calling them late at night while on tour to spew venom and vent depression); and tons of fans think he is just a dick.
Henry’s reactions:
“You just take it and keep playing. Whatever.” (90)Ray Pettibon’s art on the Black Flag flyers inserted throughout the book is fascinating and disturbing; I advise readers to skip the journals and ruminate on what the fuck these images tell us about dudes, American hardcore, and 1980s suburban California.
Or in a more introspective mood: “Fuck these people. I want to get into some fights like right now. It will be enjoyable kicking the punk dog shit out of some of these people.” (126)
Or spitting what I imagine he thinks is old-soul wisdom: “If I had a kid I would want it to be male. Maybe it would come back and kill me. Isn’t that what’s supposed to happen?” (127)
