I Was a Teenage Punk Rocker - Why Dedication Beats Fanaticism Anyday! Even for Punk Rock or Success in Any Field!

"Do something once or do it everyday." - Andy Warhol

Just like the title says, I was a famous punk rocker... Really.... It's true. I was a famous (sort of) punk rocker.... Woo Hoo! And dedication does matter... Even if it is dedication to something that seems as ridiculous as punk rock...

Early 1980 at Santa Barbara for one of our last gigs

I think that everyone knows that dedication has immense value... It is especially valuable if that dedication is true dedication over the long term and not short-term fanaticism.

Dead Kennedys

I was the lead singer of a famous one-hit-wonder band of the late 1970s. We weren't "dedicated" to what we were doing. We were short-term fanatics. By some miracle, or accident of god, even though we were terrible, we sold a sh*t-load of records back then. Bands like the Dead Kennedys or Black Flag were opening bands for our shows. We used to play many shows with bands like the seminal Los Angeles Punk band, Fear. The bassist for the Red Hot Chili Peppers, Flea, was a bassist for Fear at one time.


Guys like Jello Biafra of the Dead Kennedy's and the members of Black Flag, Flea and the Red Hot Chili Peppers are dedicated. That's why they have performed for such a long time. We were fanatics, so we faded quickly into oblivion.

Black Flag

Dedicated people stick with something for a long time. Fanatics are like people who get interested in a new religion one day and they are "on fire" about it for a very short time... Yes. "On fire" is a good description... So "on fire" are they that they also burn out quickly and lose interest. 


The dedicated ones are on a slow, evenly burning flame...


Maybe it's like "falling in love" is comparable to fanaticism; "falling in love" is easy and quick but can end too soon in a sudden fashion. Dedication is like "true love;" "true love" lasts a long time and requires dedication and work to achieve. 


If you do something, anything, try to be dedicated not fanatical.


Back in those days I hung around with lots of kind of famous people. Many of those people who were famous in those days are now dead...

That's me on the left

But the guys in my band (and I) were stupid. A lot of those people from the other bands figured out something that the guys in my band were too dense to realize... What did they realize? Well, it's simple; if you want to be famous and live off of playing music then you have to live it. I mean really live it. You have to dedicate to it. Many people do the talk... Few do the walk. My band wouldn't do the basics. We wouldn't dedicate.

Why didn't we figure out? Well, we didn't figure it out that "Stick-to-it-tiveness" and "dedication" pay off... We wanted the easy way to fame and fortune. It was so easy to make our first hit, that I think it spoiled the hell out of us. We got lazy and didn't work hard. 

What I am getting at is that, "...if you keep to your guns, and do not compromise and work hard, then maybe, perhaps, you can succeed..." If you don't keep at it, then you fail for certain.... Is there any business or endeavor in the world that doesn't require dedication and stick-to-it-tiveness?

It's pretty easy when you look at it that way, isn't it? You either do or you don't.

"There is no try. There is only do or not do."

I told the guys in my band, at that time, that "If we just stay together for the time it takes to build a crowd and a solid reputation - maybe 10 to 15 years - even without any hits - we can be famous and live off of playing music all our lives." (Perhaps that's also what Malcolm Gladwell talks about in his book "Outliers" that says "10,000 hours of work are required for success in any field.")


But it was not to be for us...


Alas, we were too hard-headed and selfish too see the truth in dedication. My band spent more time fighting over silly stuff like trying to alter other people's behavior to accommodate our own, rather than playing and practicing hard. 

The Rotters 1977 (L to R) Phester Swollen, Johnny Condom, Nigel Nitro (me), Rip Chord

What a waste! Now we are all businessmen and/or unemployed and live with high-blood pressure, stress and all sorts of diseases and sicknesses that are going to kill us ASAP. 


What a fun life, eh?


Now, please allow me to indulge myself and allow me now to ramble quite a bit....


From late 1977 to 1979, my name was Nigel Nitro and I was the lead singer of a punk band called the Rotters. We had a single that sold 600,000 records in Europe; supposedly 1 million records all over the world. (But remember that record labels always inflate their numbers so remove a zero from those and you are probably closer to the real totals! Still not bad.)


It was also the only song by an American band that the Clash played for the BGM of their first American tour. It was also one of the first (and only?) records to be banned nationwide on American FM radio. The song was called, "Sit on my Face, Stevie Nicks." It was a monster hit and why were are called "one-hit wonders."

It was all a scam (of course, it was Punk rock, right?)... I think about it now and can't figure out how the guitarist, Phester (real name is Tom) and I arranged all that... But we did. We talked people into recording our record, making a master, and printing it.... All for free...


It was totally DIY in late 1977!

By some miracle of timing, we were lucky enough to be at the right place at the right time to be one of the late 1970s Los Angeles punk bands... 

At that time, I had all the most beautiful girls in town as my girl friends (in my vanity I considered them decorations) and our band was hot and famous. We charted on radio stations all over the country and were guests several times on Rodney Bingenheimer's radio show on KROQ and, according to Rodney, "The most requested song in the history of the radio show..." (beating even the Bay City Rollers and the Sex Pistols!).... 

Darby Crash of the Germs

I met the Clash, the Ramones, Blondie, Phil Spector, the Knack (My Sharona) and many others; we played at the Masque for Brendan Mullen with the Germs, the Dils, the Bags; as I said, we often played gigs with Fear, the Angry Samoans, Black Flag (before Henry Rollins) and bands like the Dead Kennedy's were the opening band for our shows!.... I was even at the debut show of the Go-Gos (they were terrible!) and I've gotten high with Dee Dee Ramone and the Ramones before and so many artists that I can't name them all.... In fact, I've even gotten stoned with Mark Mothersbaugh of DEVO in Santa Barbara in 1980! All because I was in a one-hit wonder band!

Joey Ramone and I even became good friends....

Oh, those were the days, my friends. I thought they'd never end! We'd sing and laugh forever and a day....

So don't you tell me there's no god!

How did that happen?

Here's how: I was a college student in 1977. I was a full-time stoner... I never studied... One day I came home from school high as usual, and turned on the TV.... 

TV in those days was sometimes redeeming as I found Monty Python at that time (I have always been an "early adopter") and would come home to watch PBS. There, that day, on the TV was a program about this, "New and sick music craze that was sweeping Britain!" It was Punk Rock. I immediately loved it!

All I really remember was that people had short red hair and were wearing dog collars and jumping around. I'd find out later that it was a video of the Damned live. They were choking each other. The announcer was saying how sick these kids were. I thought it was cool. The kids also had cool fashions and wore lots of leather. The bands were real and they were rock and roll. I thought and, as I watched, I felt that I was watching a revolution.

That moment changed my life. I became a fanatical fan of Punk rock. Within 3 months, I got together a band and arranged a recording session and we made our first and biggest hit... We toured a lot and played many shows... But my band members fought constantly and weren't dedicated...

And, that, in a nutshell, my friends, is how we became "one-hit wonders."

With the White Stripes on July 25, 2002

(Left to right: George Williams, Jack White, me, Meg White) 

That may sound disappointing and it was to me for a long time. For years I was bitter and sad about it until one day, Jack White of the White Stripes - way before they were famous - once put his hand on my shoulder and said to me, "Mike, it's better to have punked and lost, than to have never punked at all!" 

Wow! That was like lightening hitting me right between the eyes. He's right!.. I'm glad I was in the Rotters... Too bad, though, it could have been so much more...

Actually our second single did get some airplay and sold pretty well too...

I once saw it in a record collectors shop selling for $250... I told the clerk that I was

the lead singer of the band... He didn't believe me...

Oh, but that's all past now... Long past. Up until a few years ago, the guys in the band had many reunion gigs in the USA, and asked me to come perform, but I never did. The last time I ever played with that band was a few shows in Japan in 1988.

I don't want to do that anymore. It's a good memory and I want to keep it that way.

The point of this all is, like I said, determination and dedication.... Fanaticism isn't necessarily a good thing. Long term thinking, planning and work and practice - no matter what the business - pays off; whether it's music, a new business venture, sports, or a hobby or craft. 

Stick to it. Dedication and hard work pay off... Even if it's only Punk Rock.

NOTE: The above is far too serious. I've always thought that Punk rock should be laughs and fun. If you want a laugh, actually many good laughs, read the below. It is a short recollection of those days by the guitarist, Phester Swollen. Phester has a way with words and this is hilarious! From the online band information site, Break My Face has this:

PULL IT AND YELL...

It was 1978 and rock and roll was the worst putrefying heap of overblown bovine excrement imaginable. Walking into a record store was about as fun as having a raging bout of the Hershey squirts and with no choice but to use a Super Seven gas station toilet that was plugged with some wino's puke and butt blow. Hearing the likes of Peter Frampton, Steely Dan, the Eagles, Fleetwood Mac and that phony working class schmuck, the Boss, left us contemplating the big sleep to put us out of our misery. What the fuck was this shit? It sure as hell wasn't rock. We were frustrated, pissed off and offended.

Nigel Nitro and I were a couple of nasty film production students at Moorpark College, just northwest of Los Angeles. We stuck out and didn't fit in. Neither of us wanted to make films with a couple of retarded lovebirds walking on the beach to some lame ass Jim Croce ballad. Our goal was to make vicious, stabbing satires. If people were offended we knew we were on the right track. One night we both saw an episode of 20/20 on the lobotomy box ranting on the evils of this hideous new scourge on society from England called punk rock. It featured live footage of the Damned and the Sex Pistols with subtitles for the lyrics so that the world could see how vile and disgusting they were. They hated it. We loved it. If it pissed them off so much it HAD to be good! It had everything we'd been dying to hear for years and besides, any idiots could do it. That meant us, too.

Within a couple of weeks we started The Rotters with another Moorpark film loony, Bruce Brink on drums and Rip Chord on bass. Bruce soon bailed out for fear that the local Oxnard or Ventura hillbillies would kill him for playing punk, a reasonable concern. Rip's friend Johnny Condom took over on drums. Since Nigel and I were both students at Moorpark College we were able to weasel our way into the recording class almost immediately as they were in need of bands to record on the four track. The recording students hated us. We weren't real musicians. We were sloppy, not together. We were out of tune most of the time. We didn't know what the fuck we were doing. But we didn't care. We had a lot of wild enthusiasm and the teacher of the class, Richard Simpson, caught on to this. He told us; "you guys aren't any good, but you have fun and that's all that's really important." Then he encouraged us to put out a single, which he would master for us for free.

We'd played a few volatile shows. After being kicked out of the Mickey Moose disco in Ventura for sucking and being pelted with debris in Anisque Oyo Park in Isla Vista for being shitty, we knew we were good. "Sit On My Face Stevie Nicks" was a standout and the logical choice for the single. It had been written in about ten minutes as one of the worst songs possible while at the same time taking a stab at the big bucks rock world we hated so much. "Amputee", a kind of anthem of the stupid, was on the flip side.

Once we had a test pressing we naively decide we should take it down to KROQ and give it to Rodney Bingenheimer to play. Rodney's show Rodney On The ROQ was THE punk show on L.A. radio at the time. We drove down to Pasadena to the station and snuck in by standing at the back door with a bunch of punk looking guest types. When they let them in, we walked in too. We didn't know it right away but they were the Ramones and Clem Burke, the drummer from Blondie. Even though we didn't have any drugs for Dee Dee, Rodney still played our record and put us on the air with Joey Ramone. Almost immediately Rodney asked us, live on the air, if we liked the Ramones. Nigel and I simultaneously said, "uh... er... we like the Sex Pistols". They broke for a commercial, told us "you guys gotta leave now!" and kicked us out. But the damage was done. KROQ was inundated with requests for "Sit On My Face Stevie Nicks" the next day.

For some strange reason Fleetwood Mac took offense. Well, there's no accounting for taste. It seems this was the era when Mick Fleetwood was boning Stevie Nicks behind Lindsey Buckingham's back and he felt he had to rescue her honor. Christ! As if they didn't have enough problems of their own with all the break ups, infidelity, cocaine addictions and millions of dollars burdening them! They had to throw their weight around and go after some fledgling punk band. I guess it was a case of the big bully beating up the asthmatic wimp on the playground for making a smart ass comment and laughing during his oral report. We soon found we were banned in Los Angeles. Someone claiming to be Mick Fleetwood himself called KROQ and threatened them with a lawsuit if they played the song, then called Nigel at home with the same threat. All the major record stores in Los Angeles were threatened with no more big selling Big Mac albums if they sold our nasty little single. Ooh scary! What a threat. Who the hell bought Tusk anyway? It sucked the turds out of a dead bloated water buffalo's anus. Some stores hid our records under the table like a bunch of pussies and some gave Fleetwood Mac the finger and still got their albums anyway. Then they decided to be less obvious and the doors to a number of the clubs in town closed to us mysteriously.

We didn't really need their help in fucking everything up though. We could do that ourselves. Any money we might have made went into beer. We couldn't play worth shit most of the time, didn't follow any L.A. punk clique rules and were lazy as hell. None of this helped at all. The second single, "Sink The Whales Buy Japanese Goods" b/w "Disco Queen", we couldn't give away. None of us had any use for stacks of the record so many of the 1,000 copies went into the trash. Now it's a coveted collector's item. Go figure. Disillusioned, with our dreams of glory crushed, we broke up early in 1980. However, The Rotters have managed to survive although not with the original line up. But what the hell, how many punk bands stay the same for more than 20 years? The whole idea of middle age punks is offensive anyway. But then again, that's the point.

— Phester Swollen

The first Rotters 7 inch. had at least two distinct pressings. The first pressing says "BANNED" only while the second pressing says "BANNED IN L.A." (pictured above). The second and far more rockin' Rotters 7in. was a single pressing, but with a couple of different paper stocks. The more common sleeve is on standard white stock, the less common is on heavier yellow stock (though either are practically impossible to find). Some copies have both sleeves. Both Rotters 45's (along with several other early L.A. punk greats) have been reissued by Dionysus Records.

Here's a video that I made that has footage of our 1988 show in Japan:

Thanks to Jp Valentine


For my dear friends Yuri Tsujimoto, Sharon Kennedy and Tom Swollen

Men Are from Mars, Women Are from Venus... So What About Gay Men and Women?

I reckon that this title portends to what most people might consider a "dicey subject." I guess it is... But I'll try to make this "family friendly."

Have you ever read the book, "Men Are from Mars, Women Are from Venus"? I think it might be helpful if you ever want to be in a relationship and make it last (or even have half a clue as to what's happening most of the time). So perhaps it would be nice if you read it. 


I read it after my second divorce and it was like a light going off in my head. You can find an online pdf of the entire book here, but I've also (poorly) encapsulated the entire premise here. Basically, it goes like this:


Men are very results oriented. They consider themselves, "Mister Fix it." Men want to hear short bits of information and then offer solutions. Women are not that way. Women don't need quick answers. Women want someone who will listen to them talk and allow them to flesh out their thoughts as if they are thinking aloud. Women are looking for empathy. They are looking for a friend who will listen and share in their concerns without judgement or solutions. 


Men want to hear a bit of information then offers solutions.

   
And that's why men are from Mars and women are from Venus; because they don't understand the language the other is speaking. Their communication falters because of language. When the wife wants to complain about work, the husband hears a few sentences and then offers a "Mister Fix It Solution!" 


Wife then gets mad and says, "You're not listening to me!"


Husband retorts, "I am listening to you!"


No, husband. You're not. Not the way she wants you to listen. Seriously, trust me. I'm divorced twice and married three times. I know what I'm talking about (and I've read the book). You're not listening to her in her language; a language that she understands. 


In a nutshell, when she complains, she wants you to shut up and really listen to what she has to say - until she's finished. Don't interrupt her with your dumb solutions. She doesn't need your ideas. When she wants your ideas, she will ask for them...Women are kind of like dominating queen bees that way... (just a little levity, ladies!)

gossip, titter, giggle, gossip, titter, giggle, gossip, titter, giggle... 

This is why ladies can get together over coffee and talk for hours on end about the problems and questions of the day and nothing gets decided; they need no solutions. The best friends amongst women, I am told, are the good listeners.


Guys? Guys get together and complain and immediately they are offering all sorts of solutions to problems. "Well, if you don't like work, why don't you quit?" Or, "Go tell your boss to go to hell!" Or my most commonly used solution, "If I were you, I'd get a gun and shoot the guy right between the eyes!"

Typical male quick solution: "Punch 'em in the f*cking teeth!"

Guys like to offer quick solutions all the time. Many of the solutions are like taking a sledge hammer to a problem when a pillow feather will do nicely.


So this is what Men Are from Mars, Women Are from Venus is all about.


Which brings me to the dicey part of this post: How about gay people? And, especially, how about gay people in Japan? I'm not being funny or cute here. I am just curious (not that my curiosity matters). Why I ask is that I have two relatives who I am pretty sure are gay (one is a male and the other is female). Unfortunately (or fortunately, depending on how you look at it), my gay relatives haven't come out. But if you knew my aunts and uncles, cousins, in-laws and other relatives, you could understand why... Let me just say that most of my relatives aren't the most "with it,"  understanding or the, er, "coolest" people hanging around the block. 

I can imagine this scene, but I can't imagine what aunt Emma would

 say about "Jennie" bringing "Marsha" to Thanksgiving this year.

I like to think my two dear relatives know I don't care. I just want them to be happy. I actually feel sorry for them in way because of the way my family and society can be so judgemental.. I don't appreciate the fact that they have to be secretive about what they do or that they don't come to our family get togethers because they would bring that "someone else" (and that someone else might make some people uncomfortable! Heavens!) I mean, life is tough enough on everyone as it is without people being concerned what other people are doing in their own homes and bedrooms or who they associate with....


But I digress... 


Here's a story that happened to me with one of these relatives about fifteen years or so ago in Japan. This incident has always bothered me since and, had I read Men Are from Mars, Women Are from Venus I might have reacted a different way (or maybe not....) I've always regretted how I handled the situation and I think it has created a wedge between me and a loved one that lasts until this very day. Here's the story:


One day, this close relative, I'll call him "Sam," called me on the phone. Sam had been working in Tokyo for several years. At the time of this incident, I wasn't sure that Sam was gay, but I highly suspected it. And I didn't care. I figured I had enough problems of my own without worrying about someone else's. 


Why I had known (suspected) that Sam was gay was because I had been in a punk band in Los Angeles years before and we often toured (San Francisco and beyond) and I had many friends who lived the so-called "Alternative lifestyle." So, from that experience, I had met and shared many good times with these friends when they were young and discovering their sexuality. It seems to me that the creative arts and music have a large share of gays in the business. (This might seem sexist but I think gay people often times are quite the excellent creative and sensitive group...) 


Anyway, I remember in 1979 or so, riding in a car with my best friend Jeff (a bassist in a punk band) when we came to the realization that our two best friends (men) were sleeping together and that almost all of our friends (musicians and others) except us two were gay and/or lesbians!!! This girl I used to date was a lesbian too! Wow! That realization blew my mind!


As he drove the car, I slyly reached over and rested my hand on Jeff's right thigh. He slapped my hand away and we laughed.... 

Circa 1979 poster for my band, "The Rotters. I was vocalist back then. Incredibly, those guys are still playing! The Rotters are one of those bands who forgot to break up.

Anyway...


Long before Sam called me that day, we worked at the same company. Sometimes Sam got himself in trouble at work and had a few problems adjusting to life in Japan. A few months before, Sam's mother had died in an freak accident and that pretty much broke him up for a long time. He had been drinking heavily and often called into work sick. He was falling apart. I tried to help but I was, in hindsight, conceited and judgemental. When I spoke to Sam on the phone he was quite agitated.


Sam told me that he had gone to work and, while talking to a client, gotten angry and punched the client. Very bad indeed. Extremely bad in Japan because punching someone in the face is a crime and might land you in jail. Well, Sam seemed like he was headed for jail as the guy he punched was considering filing a complaint with the police. Had he done so, all hell would have broken loose for Sam. Not only would he be in jail, he'd be out of a job and most probably deported when he got out of jail.


Sam was going through the litany of problems he had created for himself. Me, not wanting to listen, I put on my "Mister Fix It" cap immediately and said, "What do you want me to do?"


Sam got really mad. He said,


"I don't want you to do anything, Mike! I just want you to listen!"


"I am listening!" I countered. This went back and forth. Our voices grew louder with each word.  "I'm listening and trying to figure out why you are telling me this. What do you want me to do about it?" We began arguing. Arguing was the worst outcome. Here I was trying to help but we were beginning to argue.

Soon it was a big fight. I realize now that we weren't speaking the same language. When I said, "What do you want me to do?" I didn't mean it in a snotty, nasty and condescending, "Well, what do you want me to do about it, jerk?" I meant it as, "How can I help you to rectify this situation?" I meant to say, "I will help you in any way you wish for me to help you. Please give me instructions as to what is the best way to do so."


Had I been a better communicator, I could have gotten that message across. Had Sam understood my "Mars" way of thinking, then he would have calmly said, "I just need someone to listen to me so I can confide my worries and fears. I need a friend."


Yes. Sam needed a friend. Instead I sent him an entire fire engine brigade. Any wonder that a 4 alarm fire broke out?


That was years ago. I still talk to Sam sometimes, but not often. Not as often as I used to or would like to. Funnily enough, I am the only one in our entire family who stays in contact with Sam at all anymore. I wish he'd come to visit. I wish I could tell him that I'm sorry and that everything is okay. 


The reason why I am now pretty much sure of Sam's sexual preferences is that I know some of his friends from back then who are still here in Japan. Nice folks. They enjoy their privacy. I say let them, and Sam, have it. That's why I don't force the issue.


What is the purpose of this post? I'm not too sure. Is the thinking of men and women different like stated in Men Are from Mars and Women Are from Venus true? From reading and my own experiences, I believe so. I have also had a nagging concern and regret over the incident with Sam that I relate to you above. 


Is the thinking of gay people the same or different from heterosexuals? And does it matter whether or not we are in Japanese society or western society? I don't know.... But now, come to think of it, frankly speaking, I don't care. No matter whether a gay male thinks the same as a heterosexual male or not (as a "solutions based" gender) it shouldn't make any difference to me. Why? Because everyone deserves more empathy and understanding. 


I should have given Sam more of that too. For that I will always regret.

I was going to ask dear reader to read this post and offer solutions and their opinions to me, but now, on second thought. No thanks. That you sat there, quietly, and listened to me was enough... I guess that satisfies the Venus in me. 


Now, I feel better. Thanks for listening and thanks for the empathy. 


Spread it around.