Lake Union Pub! Los Hornets! Punk nostalgia!

I’m going through a big box of photos, negatives, and slides that I put away in 1997 and haven’t opened since – although I have moved 12 times since then (and gotten married)! They’ve been stored and hauled around, and I never had time for them until now. I’m doing a Thrasher Zine Thing show in Seattle in April, and unlike the San Diego and Austin ones we did this time we’re taking a slightly historical approach. I’m from Seattle so I’ve got a good idea of the 1980s and 1990s, and have a few friends helping with the 1970s. Maybe I will post some of the other shit over time, but you should really just come to the show.

In the summer of 1992, I enrolled in a photo class at the UW, and had access to their darkroom. I broke a finger toward the end of the term, and was allowed to take an incomplete, which gave me access for the fall quarter too. I’ve spent time since in the darkroom, but not that much, really – and now I shoot mostly digital (when it’s something that’s going to be used for print) but do still shoot some film here and there. At that time I shot a show at Seattle’s Lake Union Pub, my favorite hangout. It was the diviest and shittiest of punk bars, with a small room that could maybe hold 40 people to watch a band, although more could pack in around the bar. I saw Teengenerate play there. I saw the Rip Offs play there. All the great local bands played there, and a shit ton of out-of-towners played there too. I held a Pool Dust release party there one year, and celebrated a birthday once by smoking an entire cigar to myself (and then puking). The Lake Union Pub stank, the carpets were sticky and shitty, and when it was hot the ceiling would drip with sweat. I also went to show once and sat at the bar and watched the entire film Caligula for some reason, I guess because it was Caligula.

I lived in Wallingford at the time, and would frequently take the bus or ride my bicycle. I remember getting so drunk one night that I fell over on my bike three or four times on the way home, each time into bushes (and thankfully not under a car on Aurora). I posted some of these photos on Facebook, where there is a Seattle punk photo archive page and a page dedicated to the Lake Union Pub. Check em out, some raw shit.

Los Hornets was a great band – not taking themselves too seriously, having a great time, and rocking out. They had a song about Drew Barrymore. They were into old cars and motorcycles. Slim, their singer, passed away in 2007. I’ve seen Jason a few times over the years on my trips back to Seattle, but haven’t seen the others much. Miss those fun times.

The other photo is someone who shall remain nameless, because, well, I don’t know if he’d want me to post a photo of him taking a piss. That damn shitty, smelly Lake Union Pub bathroom.

The final photo is the Teen Angels. Kelly Canary from Dickless, Julie Ransweiler from Scooch Pooch records, and I can’t remember who drummed. Loud and cacophonous, Julie picked up the bass to be in the band. They did a single or two on the label and I haven’t seen those girls in ages either.

Heebie Jeebies for Girls on CBs! part 7

 Man, I spend a little time poking around some of the forums for bikes, for the stockers and cafe racer crowd, and it's a lot of young, clueless, bearded dudes building unsafe bikes and a lot of old, bitter dudes calling them out for it. It's become this sort of fountain of bullshit and negativity, and I sometimes have to take stock and look away from the fray. Aesthetics and safety don't have to be opposite sides of a continuum. The other thing to bitch about is the explosion of videos of dudes wrenching on their bikes, with the requisite flannel, beard, and angle grinder throwing sparks. It's become so prevalent that there are tons of videos making fun of them, but that are somewhat hard to distinguish from the real ones since they're all so ridiculous. I just want my arm to heal up and the weather to get nice -- although I went for a brief spin up and down the road yesterday just to get one of my bikes started. Anyway, how about that CB750 and it's crew above? Now that's one way to ride.

 This one unfortunately falls into the not-so-great ideas category, and here I am  bitching again. No front fender or fork brace, and those tires were state of the art in 1940 but not so functional these days. Brat seats are so hot right now, but at least there's a double front disc on this murdered out -- isn't that what the kids call spray painting the entire thing black these days? -- CB550.

 The CB400F has always been elegant, and this one's mostly a stocker save the seat, chopped front fender, and upgraded master cylinder. Maybe the gauges are different too?

Stoked on girls who ride. I think this is the Eastside Moto Babes? Shit, can't remember where I got the photo. CB550. CB400F, looks like a CB500T? Not sure what that twin is, and a Beemer of course.

 Frosty CB750.