In my last post I floated the idea that the Cryptopunks IP might be better stewarded by a non-profit foundation than a for-profit company. My rambling thought process might have seemed like I was suggesting Yuga Labs should start a foundation, and that might have been what I was thinking at some point, but that post has led to a number of discussions and I now think the best way forward is the formation of an independent non-profit with a singular mission that everyone could rally behind. A lofty goal I know, but also something I’ve seen play out before and in the conversations that I’m having and seeing, seems like it could be feasible.
For context, in 2009 I co-founded the non-profit community space, Crash Space in Los Angeles which quickly became part of the global hackerspace and maker movement. In 2011 I co-founded Safecast, an environmental non-profit initially focused on building an open repository of radiation data in the aftermath of the Fukushima Daiichi meltdown in Japan. I was awarded a fellowship with the Shuttleworth Foundation in 2014 and over the following years worked with dozens of other non-profit founders as we helped solve each others problems with learnings from our own experience, and co-authored a book about it. I’ve sat on non-profit boards and advised, mentored or unfucked a number of others. All that is just to say this is a familiar topic for me.
The first thing I wanted to do was identify the problem that we’re trying to solve, this is important because if you don’t know the problem then you might end up solving for the wrong thing. This isn’t perfect, but it’s kind of a working problem statement at the moment:
“A single commercial entity controlling the Cryptopunks IP inevitably faces the challenge of trying to satisfy a diverse community with varying ideas and visions for the future. This situation creates an ongoing struggle to balance commercial interests with the wide range of expectations held by individual owners, making it difficult to take any action without upsetting some of the audience, leading to a kind of mission paralysis. While some may suggest that the company simply “do nothing,” this is not an ideal solution either.”
Once you have a problem then you can think of what a solution might look like. Right now, we have this:
“Separating commercial interests from IP stewardship presents a promising path forward. Establishing the foundation as a non-profit entity dedicated to the stewardship of the Cryptopunks IP, with a board of directors focused on preservation, offers a balanced and mutually beneficial solution. This approach ensures that the legacy of Cryptopunks is maintained with integrity, allowing the community, including Yuga Labs, to trust that their assets are being protected and valued by a dedicated group with a singular focus. By focusing on protecting the historical and cultural value of Cryptopunks, we support their enduring significance and value.”
Again, not perfect but it’s a start. Those two statement are related, so as we edit one the other changes as well. They also serve the purpose of helping understand what the point of all this is, which helps get to a mission statement. The mission is important, because it’s the guidepost that we can constantly check back on and be accountable to, ensuring that future efforts are in line with the initial vision. Another tentative bit of text which is starting to take shape:
“The foundation promotes and celebrates the cultural significance of CryptoPunks, the genre-defining cryptographic art project created by Larva Labs in 2017. Our mission is to see that the legacy of CryptoPunks is maintained with integrity, focusing on its historical and artistic value rather than commercial potential and act as guardrail against exploitation. Dedicated to preserving and maintaining access to the cultural and historical legacy of CryptoPunks, we provide a home for the intellectual property and develop educational resources for the public. The foundation strives towards building a secure future for this iconic work. We engage with a variety of supporters who share our vision of protecting and promoting the cultural impact of CryptoPunks.”
So these are shaping up to be some helpful starting points that we’re building conversations around, which so far are interestingly only a little bit about Cryptopunks generally and more specifically about the non-profit/foundation world, governance, process as well as some very high level “what do we see this doing 10 years from now, 20 years from now?” kind of discussions. There’s also a very big “if” that this hinges on around the Cryptopunks IP of course, so we’re also talking about time frames and things the foundation could do that would be helpful to the greater ecosystem even without having the IP in house. I think that’s an important discussion because if everything the foundation wants to do depends on the approval of a separate for profit company, that’s a pretty large weak spot. Conversely, if the foundation can do a lot of things on it’s own, and get real momentum and serve a purpose independent of anything else, that also helps justify things and strengthens the initial ask.
There’s another interesting thing in this specific case – with previous foundations and non-profits I’ve helped get going we’ve often had a clear goal. “What’s the thing we’re trying to do? At some point that thing will be done, so then what?” but thinking of legacy and art on the blockchain, right out of the gate we’re facing the reality that – if done right – all of this will outlive us. At least that’s something I’m thinking about a lot – so in addition to all of the above I’m thinking about the time I’m willing to invest in this, and what kind of future I’m hoping it enables. This is actually part of a larger conversation I’ve been having about (in my view) what kind of actions are beneficial to society (art, creativity, etc) vs what kind of actions are rewarded and encouraged (lots of douchebaggery) and how, with whatever time I have left, I want to try and help make things better. But yeah, that’s a different thing.
If any of this sounds interesting and you’d like to join us in hashing some of this out, let me know and I’ll invite you. I’ll certainly write more about this in the future as we get further along, but I wanted to put this out there now just as a bit of a marker, if only so that months/years from now I can look back and see what I was thinking at this point.
The last few days have been wild and I don’t even know where to start, or where to continue from because everytime I start writing something it changes and I have to keep starting over. Some wonderful things happened alongside some terrible things. This is a series of somewhat connected thoughts and observations that I hope leads somewhere helpful.
If you want to skip my recap and jump right to the commentary, click here.
Some Background.
Cryptopunks are art. Culturally important genre defining art. I know it, if you are reading this you probably know it, and others are starting to realize it every day. When Matt & John (collectively Larva Labs) the artists who created Cryptopunks walked away from their creation it was largely because community was attacking them for everything they did, or didn’t do – and demanding they do, or don’t do any number of things. They never signed up to manage community expectations, they just wanted to make art. Honestly, I can’t blame them for that at all. This space can be brutal, and they certainly saw the worst of it. At least up until that point, but we’ll get to that later.
Yuga Labs, who bought the IP, stated from the start that they saw their mission was to provide more for the community, and to work to establish deeper recognition of Cryptopunks in the art world. They said they saw themselves as stewards and wanted to make everyone proud.
Museums, and Prints, and Books, Oh My
Under Yuga’s care, punks have found their way into the permanent collections at major museums like LACMA, ICA Miami and Centre Pompidou in Paris. 24×24 pixel on-screen images were recontextualized with high end limited edition large format art prints that no small amount of collectors have proudly framed and hung on their walls. Phaidon, one of the pre-eminent art book publishers in the world have started taking orders on a massive 800 page slab of a book about Cryptopunks, filled with images, essays and interviews. To say they have been making headway on their goal of art world recognition is an understatement.
In Residence
Another initiative Yuga announced was an Artist In Residence program, playfully titled Punk In Residence. AiR programs are a long standing tradition that often gives an artist a chance to explore something they might not have, and gives an organization or institution a way to support the arts with something tangible to show for it. The work produced by not just an artist, but by all the artists who participate in the program becomes a kind of creative conversation, playing out across various canvases (or proxies) and through many lenses. Importantly, these programs are not just one off – they need many artists in series over a period of time to tell a story. I was an Artist In Residence at the MuseumsQuartier in Vienna and have a catalog/book they published at the end of the year showing my work along side the other artists involved and it’s a really cool way to feel like a real part of this thing. They do this every year, and when you look at all the books together it tells a beautiful story about how MQ has helped and furthered all these different kinds of artists experiment with something they might not have otherwise.
Recently
To kick off the Punk In Residence program Yuga announced that the inaugural artist would be Nina Chanel Abney, a contemporary American artist known the world over who has works in the collections of museums like MOMA, Whitney, Ruebell, Brooklyn Museum and others. Abney’s work is unapologetically political often touching on topics such as race & gender, but at the same time is colorful, fun and poppy, leading to the apt description that it’s “easy to swallow, hard to digest.”
Why, 2015, Nina Chanel Abney
Some people might argue that picking an artist with a strong political voice to start this program was a mistake, but both art and punk have always been built on political activism and to ignore that is kind of ridiculous and I think illustrates an ignorance about what this is all about to begin with. Matt and John have said from the start that CryptoPunks was inspired in a large part by the London punk scene, which gave birth to classics like God Save The Queen by The Sex Pistols and White Riot by The Clash. Andres Serrano’s Piss Christ anyone? So if art makes you uncomfortable, that’s probably the point.
[As an aside I think there is a wide gap between people who think of CryptoPunks as art and people who think of CryptoPunks as financial assets. They can of course be both, and if you think of them as primarily a financial asset you are probably less likely to want to see politics anywhere near them, but both Larva Labs and Yuga Labs have stated plainly they believe CryptoPunks are art, so that’s the argument I’m running with here. The financial asset side doesn’t have to like the art aspect at all, but can’t really expect it to just go away.]
A struggle with how things are communicated and cultural literacy was also revealed during promotion of the Phaidon book. Cryptopunk owners (myself included) like to think of ourselves as having our fingers on the pulse and knowing whats going on at all times. But in talking about some of the contributors to the book it became clear some people didn’t have the same reference points as others. We saw people assume that since they didn’t know who someone was, no one else did either. Or perhaps, because they did know who someone was everyone else must know as well. This led to some confusion and a complicated situation – how to inform people who think they already know it? Don’t give enough information and people get mad that they feel left in the dark, give too much info and people feel like they are being talked down to. Striking a balance there is hard, and usually results in everyone being a little irritated.
Beyond promotion the book itself was not without controversy, while many people loved the idea and immediately bought several copies, others felt like they should have gotten one free either because they owned a Cryptopunk or because the book says “Free To Claim” (an obvious reference to the fact that Cryptopunks were originally free to claim). Others had strong opinions about who was or wasn’t contributing to the book, which led to some heated debates. This is a perfect example of how no matter what you do, you can’t please everyone, and how no good deed goes unpunished.
Currently
Last weekend (May 18) many people, myself included, traveled to see the opening of Nina Chanel Abney’s new exhibition LIE DOGGO at Jack Shainman’s The School museum/gallery space in Kinderhook NY. The exhibition includes some retrospective 2D canvases from the last 4 years, leading into a new series of 3D sculptures she has just produced and finally unveiling the world she did for her Punk In Residence project – a collection of 500 animated 3D generated characters built with Abney’s interpretations of many recognizable traits from the Cryptopunk collection, rendered in her own style as well as a significant amount of her usual character traits to make something that was distinctly her own, but with a knowing inspirational nod to Cryptopunks. She called this new collection Super Punk World, a clear world building expansion of the idea she began with her 2022 digital body of work which is called Super Cool World. There were about 3,000 people at the opening, the vast majority of which had never heard of Cryptopunks before, possibly never heard of generative art or NFTs even and every one of them learned about these things in the end. This was a primarily art world audience, not crypto people – so thinking back to the mandate of building exposure of Cryptopunks into the art world, this was a huge success. Everyone was delighted.
(photos by me)
A few days later the official CryptoPunks social media account announced the launch of Super Punk World, and all hell broke loose. Criticisms of the art and misunderstandings around the project quickly turned into attacks on Yuga, the artist and individual Yuga team members who had worked on it. Things got ugly quick, and open forums like Twitter devolved into a flood of racist, sexist personal attacks with trolls and shitposters trying to out do each other to catch the engagement stream. It was the worst of stereotypical cryptobro-ness on full display. I was disgusted by what I saw, embarrassed for the space, and heartbroken for the artist and people who have spent the last year working on it. Before the end of the day Yuga’s CEO would step in and make an announcement that these pieces would be randomly given away rather than sold, and there would be no future Cryptopunks efforts from them.
It’s especially disappointing to see that in an industry like crypto which celebrates independence and being censorship resistant, many essentially admit through their actions that this only applies to ideas they agree with, and lack the self awareness to see that.
Where this goes from here remains to be seen, but this brought up a bunch of things to consider.
Some Thoughts
Communication Misses
Judging by the number of people complaining about “Super Punks,” talking about diluting the original CryptoPunks collection as if this was Cryptopunks 2.0, suggesting no one has ever heard of Nina or that she was hired to make derivative punks (or any number of other ridiculous claims) it’s pretty clear the communication missed some marks. This is valid criticism, recently understood with the book comms I mentioned earlier and Yuga was most likely not trying to flood people with information and assumed they understood things better than they did. This issue probably would have been helped by much more in depth discussions about what an Artist In Residency program is for, who Nina is, why she was chosen to kick it off, where it’s headed next, etc etc etc. The collection having “punk” in it’s title seems to have confused a lot of people, and posts from the main Cryptopunks account very likely exacerbated that.
It’s important not to be one sided here- lots of people also reacted without reading anything, ignoring published information while imagining their own histories and narratives and then panicking about them. I saw lots of people insisting everything had been wonderful under Larva Labs or even that Cryptopunks had been a decentralized community project until Yuga made it corporate. It’s a disappointing state of the world when anything outside of 10 second tiktoks are basically ignored by everyone. What? 2 paragraphs of text? I’m not reading all that!
Hindsight is 20/20 and it’s easy to sit here today – barely 24 hours after the drama kicked off – and say if the collection was called “Punk In Residence: Nina Chanel Abney” and it was announced from a newly created @punkinresidence social media account after several weeks of posting educational materials this probably would have landed very differently, but here we are.
Trolls Gonna Troll
Another crucially important detail: Yuga is a troll magnet. There are a dedicated group of haters who will criticize anything they do, and will look for any opportunity to go after them. This isn’t unusual, in fact it’s online trolling 101 – target the big accounts and you’ll get some of their attention. We’ve seen this tactic deployed across countless genres for decades, it always works because people always take the bait. But Yuga has been tied up in years of battles, both legal and social, and that’s made them both a big target and hypersensitive to it – which ironically makes all that much more rewarding for the trolls. Which complicates things when you consider the next detail…
Yuga has a Trust Issue
Be it massively hyped NFT drops that feel neglected after launch, mini games missing the mark, surprise acquisitions, layoffs, sales of properties, mea culpas, management changes, mixed messages from various accounts and unclear priorities – Any of these things are easily justified or explained one at a time, but in aggregate and the fact that if it’s not one thing it’s another results in Yuga having a serious trust issue, and as such anything they announce is now taken with skepticism and questions about how long until they change their story or abandon it.
To date the Cryptopunks team has largely been exempt from that. Preferring a low key hands off position, under the guidance of Natalie Stone the steps taken from Cryptopunks have widely been seen as thoughtful and considered. The Cryptopunks community has enjoyed a a kind of siloed relationship with Yuga, ups and downs at “corporate” have rarely impacted Cryptopunks initiatives. While there are lingering promises from the early days of the acquisition that are still uncompleted (*cough* revamped marketplace *cough*) most of what Stone has put into motion has been delivered, or is obviously in progress. She’s also been there for the community, listening to concerns, requests, and trying to help people understand where things are at and why. Even over the last 24 hours when the timeline has been full of hate directed towards Yuga, much (not all) of that seems to come with a caveat that people still trust and appreciate her. This is difficult to pull off, and to me least, reads like all is not lost.
The wild card here is yesterday’s post from Yuga’s CEO. To begin with it’s vague as to what next steps, if any, there are. It also brought up a lot of questions, which at least as I’m writing this are not yet being responded to. Announcing something and then changing course less than 8 hours later feels reactionary. No matter how they decided to proceed, I think it would have been better to take a week – hell a day or two at least – to think about it, let the dust settle and give cooler heads a chance to prevail. If you launch a big long term project, work on it for a year, and the first release lands poorly the thing to do is iterate, learn from what happened and apply that to the next round. This is a public show of a desire to improve things, and makes good on your promise to do them. If you cancel it and walk away at the first (and entirely predictable) backlash then that puts every future promise you make into question. Why would punks (or anyone) take Yuga at their word going forward if it seems they will pull a 180 if the road seems bumpier than expected. Why would a world class artist like Abney even consider working with Yuga again if it seems they will just give up if faced with any pushback?
In the last few weeks leading up to this launch several people have asked me for predictions, and in every single case I’ve said the worst thing that could possibly happen would be Yuga panicking and canceling the whole program. I deeply hope that’s not where this is headed. The “in Residence” program is important and valuable, things don’t always work perfectly the first time but efforts should be made to keep it going and try again.
Perceptions by Others
Another very serious problem is that the reaction to Super Punk World was filled with really hateful, xenophobic shit, and even though this mostly wasn’t coming from CryptoPunks, the association is there and sulking away leaves that lingering taste. As an example I’ve mentioned that people still blame the V1 Cryptopunk community for the actions of random trolls because lots of drama happened at the same time and there was no one to come forward and say “this isn’t us, we don’t condone this.” The official Cryptopunks account should post a strong condemnation of the attacks on Nina and others, and Yuga should stand behind her and this project they did together. Abandoning her at this point makes everything I’ve just talked about worse. Standing up and defending an artist would score a lot of points.
Update: Several people within the punks community put together a statement to make clear that the hateful attacks were not from punks and that kind of approach is not welcome in the community.
Way Forward
I’ve had many conversations with many people about what Yuga should do in relation to Cryptopunks. In February when co-founder Greg Solano returned at CEO, one of the announcements was the creation of a new company, BAYC LLC, to house all of the Bored Ape projects. This made a lot of sense to everyone, Yuga shifts to more of a quiet parent/umbrella role and individual properties get siloed teams, budgets and focus. I said at the time that a follow up announcement of a “CryptoPunks LLC” or similar would be welcome and calm fears that the rug might be pulled out from the Cryptopunks team at any moment, or that they would be sucked back into other parts of the company.
That could take a number of shapes, but I’ve iterated on the idea a bit and now think a sort of non-profit foundation or trust might make more sense. Yuga Labs owns a lot of CryptoPunks and is legally obligated to protect that investment. I think if they set up a foundation to house and protect the Cryptopunks IP, similar to to the Warhol Foundation, while keeping their punks as assets, then actions of the foundation would in turn protect their investment.
There’s a huge fear in the Cryptopunks community that Yuga, hard up for cash, will try to commercialize Cryptopunks. Transferring the IP to a foundation resolves that fear instantly. This also allows the foundation to launch initiatives (like In Residence or licensing) without the fear of “cashing in” as they would be under a legal mandate to protect the IP. This could be funded by Yuga, or by other foundations, or even in part by the community which has already had many discussions about what it would take to buy the IP back from Yuga and self manage it. Yuga matching an investment from the community would be a very powerful statement here.
As it stands right now we’ve seen several statements from Yuga about wanting to protect Cryptopunks, but in light of the aforementioned trust issues and potentially backpedaling on the Punks In Residence program, anything they say is being taken with several grains of salt. Taking a step like this I think would be welcomed by almost everyone.
Update: This suggestion has led to several conversations which have come together and a number of people are now working on setting up a foundation independently, if you are interested in joining the discussions please let me know. More on this in the near future.
A few inquiries lately so figured it was time for a check in / update. As I’ve noted in pervious years – where I am, specifically the weather where I am, has a shaping influence on the basic set up. I’ve been living in Vancouver now for going on 4 years which is much cooler climate wise than Tokyo and that’s reflected in the modifications I’ve made since then – though if you read my last update this one is probably predictable.
Socks – I’m about 50/50 between Stance cotton socks and Darn Tough wool socks. You’ll recall that one of the things I loved about Darn Tough was their 100% guaranteed no questions asked replacement policy which essentially means you buy them once and then for the rest of your life if your socks wear out you can replace them for free. One of the things I’ve learned about Canada since living here is that there’s a bunch of exceptions for everything. I’ve been told a lot of this is due to panic that foreign companies were going to come in and take over the market, so there’s a bunch of laws and policies requiring business goes through Canadian companies which has led to some obnoxious monopolies and a bunch of “exceptions” to policies that apply globally, but not in Canada. Darn Toughs policy is one of those. So rather than just sending them in and them sending you new ones, you have to send them to their Canadian distributor with a note explaining what went wrong and why and they will then decide if they replace them or not. In the last 4 years I’ve sent in 4 pairs of socks, one was rejected because I didn’t buy the socks in Canada, one was approved but it took 3 months to get the replacements, and two other pairs just disappeared, and Darn Tough hasn’t responded to any of my inquiries about them. So if the goal was to make the policy too painful for anyone to take advantage of, consider that a success. As a result I’ve been getting Stance socks instead, which are very comfortable but not really as durable so I just know I’ll have to buy replacements next year.
Underwear – David Archy Bamboo Boxer Briefs. Bamboo is such a great fabric for underwear, so comfortable and more sustainable than whatever synthetic blends most “tech fabrics” are made of.
T-shirts – Reigning Champ mid weight standard. These are great and I prefer them over everything right now. One of the selling points of wool shirts was “wear them for several days without worrying about washing them” and while cotton isn’t as forgiving, these are solid enough that they can easily be worn 2 days in a row without any concern at all. I really like this cloth weight and build quality. If I could get this exact same thing in Bamboo rather than cotton it would be my dream come true, but so far Bamboo seems to always be much thinner and not as structurally rigid. I hate thin t-shirts and that ended up being part of the deal killer with the Outlier wool shirts, they were either so super thin that I felt like my nipples were going to rip through them or so thick that they couldn’t be worn anytime outside of the dead of winter and took days to hang dry after washing. Also the ethical trade off was no bueno.
Pants – Still on my Iron Heart Japan jeans kick. I’ve got 4 pair of various weights, 14oz, 18oz and 24oz. Iron Heart repairs these for free in Japan too, so as they’ve worn over the years I coordinate dropping them off when I’m in Tokyo and they mend them in a way that seems unheard of outside of Japan. They don’t just slap on a patch, they re-thread seams and darn the denim so when I get them back it’s like thy never had a hole or rip. It’s incredible. I hunted all over Canada to find anyone doing repairs like this, and no one even comes close. The Russian seamstress at the tailor down the street from me almost ripped my head off for asking if they could repair without a patch. I prefer black pants, the 24oz ones only come in blue. So I attempted to dye them at home with some RIT dye which was kind of successful? For a few months anyway, then it kind of washed out and was a bit messy in the process. That said, I do like the black so I’ll probably dye them again.
Most of the time I’ll add a crew neck sweatshirt or sweater because I’m running a bit cold these days and prefer long sleeves. If it’s hotter I’ll swap to light hoodie or track jacket zip up thing.
Shoes – I realized the toe box on some of my smaller profile “skate” shoes were cramping my toes and starting to hurt, so I’ve switched back to Adidas shell toes almost entirely and with their new official vegan versions I don’t have to hunt for all synthetic models as hard as I used to. The big toe area is much more comfortable and they are fairly water resistant too which is good here where it rains so much. I have some Gore-Tex Adidas cross/hike shoes that I’ll use if we’re going out into the woods, but I don’t love them so not going to specifically recommend.
I wrote a long essay about a new body of work I’ve just created called Two Bit Punks, I’m a bit long winded weaving my way through inspiration and interpretation, but I hope you’ll take a few moments and read it. I’m really happy with where I landed.
Shane MacGowan is dead. He was 65. If I’m honest I’m equally surprised he lasted this long, and that he didn’t pull a Keith Richards and live forever in spite of it all. As far as I’m concerned Shane was the greatest living Irish poet, which would put him high on the list of greatest contemporary poets period. He would argue that poetry and songwriting are the same thing and I wouldn’t argue with that.
His songs were simultaneously beautiful and horrific, heartbreaking and lustful. From The Nips, to The Pogues, to The Popes. Glorious. Disgusting. The picture that he painted of life, from the down trodden to the rebels to the lovers to the adventurers, was more vivid and authentic than anything his peers were doing at the time.
Contrast “A Pair of Brown Eyes” with “Boys From The County Hell” with “Old Main Drag” with “Sunny Side of the Street” and try to find that musical and topical range anywhere else. I dare you. Shane could write in a way that made a homeless drunk sound glamorous and aspirational, effortlessly bouncing between politics to religion to sex to every other aspect of the human experience. Poppy upbeat songs about the broken underbelly of it all right into slow beautiful songs about lost love. He could make straight edge kids want to drink whiskey with a song. God I fucking loved this guy. His ‘Friends of Shane’ is the only fanclub I ever joined, and in hindsight regret how many times I wrote in asking if Shane had been to a dentist recently.
I was introduced to The Pogues with “If I Should Fall From Grace With God” and it shattered my entire idea of what punk rock was and could be, and set me off on a journey that would lead to from Gainesville Florida to decrepit pubs in the back alleys of Cork, and basement record stores in Dublin. It’s possible that I may have taken some of the same roads that I did if I’d never heard of Shane but I think it would have been far less likely. I have all of his records, I hunted them down long ago and have listened to and sung them all a million times. I know all the lyrics by heart. And this has lead to wonderful moments like hearing “Sunnyside of the Street” in a random car commercial, delicately edited to make people think buying a car will make them happy, but knowing that the song is actually so much darker.
“Seen the carnival at Rome. Had the women and I had the booze. All that I can remember now is little kids without no shoes. So I saw that train and I got on it, with a heart full of hate and a lust for vomit. Now I’m walking on, the sunnyside of the street”
I was going to embed the perfectly recorded album version of the song, but decided this 1990 live version, at the height of his wreckage was more fitting. If you think punk rock is leather and spikes and mohawks you haven’t seen anything. There’s a tin flute in this motherfucker:
I could spend all day talking about his different albums and the songs and the impact each one had on me at different points, like the best writers he touched me with his words and imagination and helped me understand and see things in ways I never would have. This is what poetry should be. This is what punk rock should be. But I think some of that is meaningful only to me, and should stay that way. I will just take this moment to say say Goodbye Shane, and thank you for all the beauty and chaos you brought into this world. Your legacy will live forever.
Long live Shane MacGowan.
“Cram as much pleasure as you can into life, and rail against the pain that you have to suffer as a result.”
One of my favorite bands played in Vancouver last night. I’ve had tickets for the show since the day they went on sale 6 months ago. I was so excited about it, but as the date grew closer that excitement gradually turned into fear. I didn’t go.
Maybe I let the anxiety win. Maybe I’m feeling sorry for myself. Maybe both, but that’s where I am right now, in my head, one way or another. I was going to write about the band – Quicksand (for anyone who didn’t get the title reference, and naturally Gorilla Biscuits before them) and what they meant to me, the impact they had on my life and moments/memories they will forever be attached to. But as I thought about it, the band itself is kind of irrelevant in this whole story. Mostly. It’s more a me thing.
This tour was the 30th anniversary of the release of the first album. I tried to remember the last time I saw them play, I’ve seen them so many times, all these years later the shows kind of blend together in my mind. The feeling anyway. Packed in a crowd, surrounded by friends, all of us singing along to every word. This is something about growing up in the hardcore/punk that there’s no way to explain to people who didn’t experience it. As kids we didn’t fit in. We were outcasts and rejected by most similar aged peer groups, but it didn’t matter because with punk we had each other. Friends became family and you knew, no matter what, that they were there for you. It was the Cheers thing – a place where everyone knew your name and was always glad you came. Oddly important is that a lot of these situations were incredibly violent, but that’s probably a story for another time. The point is that we all gladly opted into a dangerous situation because it felt like home, the only feeling of home some of us had ever really had. It was a scary place, but it was our scary place.
This was my whole life. The music, the message, the people. Almost 40 years later and I’m still in touch with many of those people today, the bonds run that deep. In Florida and in Chicago when I’d go to shows I knew everyone. Literally. Every single person in attendance and in the bands and working the venues. I knew them all. We had grown up together. I moved to Los Angeles at 26 and didn’t really know many people in town, didn’t know what bands were around or where they might be playing. I remember several times that first few years feeling an overwhelming sense of disappointment when I’d hear, usually a few days later, that a band who I knew had been playing in town and I’d missed it. I felt like this hugely important part of my life was slipping away.
I eventually figured it out and started going to shows again but it was different. I didn’t know everyone anymore. I knew some people and that was great, but most of the people were strangers to me. It was weird because this thing, this place that had always been my briar patch didn’t quite fit anymore. It was like a favorite shirt that shrunk in the wash. So I’d go, and enjoy it, but also have this sinking sick feeling. And I went less often because of it.
That was multiplied by a million when I moved to Japan. The only way I could square it was when I knew the band or someone in the band and could go with them, so I felt a part of it somehow. I’d take pictures and hang out before or after the show with them and it was a wonderful way to feel like I still had some connection to this thing I loved. This thing that made me. But I’d also look at the audience, recognize what they were experiencing and at the same time know that I couldn’t experience it with them. If I was in the crowd rather than on stage, I’d feel surrounded by strangers rather than friends. I would always be an outsider. That was a hard one to reconcile let me tell you.
(Terror, Tokyo, 2019)
Over the last many years there’s been a handful of shows that I’ve bought tickets for and gone to on my own, alone. The last Murder City Devils show in Los Angeles stands out in my head as an example. I went. I danced. I screamed my heart out. I even broke a rib when some dude hit me at just the wrong angle. I loved every second of it. I also left feeling depressed and lonely. I didn’t know anyone there. I wasn’t going out after the show for food with anyone. I remember thinking about it as I drove home, weirdly that hurt more than my ribs.
So I’ve lived in Vancouver for over 3 years now and I’ve never been to a single show here. I barely know anyone in this whole city. 100% of my friend circle is online, in other places, far away. Friends I’ve known forever and love like family, and friends I’ve only just met through various shared interests. All impossibly distant.
And also, a lot of them are still together. Not all, some have drifted away to other lives and others didn’t survive this long. And sure some of this can be chalked up to social media posturing but I see my friends, people I love, hanging out together and having a great time. I buy records from various bands and see that my friends are doing guest spots, singing or playing on songs. I hear their voices and it makes me smile. And simultaneously bums me out. To be clear I don’t regret my choices or the direction I’ve gone, but that doesn’t mean I don’t miss the routes I didn’t take. And given the chance I wouldn’t do anything differently, so this isn’t a wallowing “gosh I wish I had a do over” or some bullshit like that. It’s just an observation of melancholy. I’ll avoid the infinite sadness joke.
So last night, as much as I love this band and these songs, I knew going would have been depressing. I would be a stranger. It would be a room full of people that I should have connections with, but don’t. The band on stage would be a friends of friends, but not friends. Know what I mean? In a different situation completely approachable with countless stories and friendships to share. But here, entirely out of reach. And a harsh reminder that I’m not a part of this thing I love anymore. That I’m now an outsider.
Of course not going is depressing too. So it’s not like I avoided that by not going.
I talk about punk rock and how we made our own world all the time, it’s an important part of my origin story and I apply the lessons and learnings from that to almost everything I do to this day. And there’s no simple narrative here, that world still exists but is also different. We aren’t kids anymore, and a bunch of old guys sitting around talking about their glory days gets obnoxious real quick. Nostalgia has it’s place, but it can’t be everything. You (and I mean me) still need to look ahead, to what is next, not just what came before. I think about this often when I’m playing guitar alone in my bedroom because I’m an almost 50 year old who still does that. But I’m not playing old cover songs, partially because I don’t know how, I’m trying to do something new. And that helps.
I think of myself as a community person, and there are all these communities I used to spend time in, and for one reason or another I don’t anymore. Mostly because I’m no longer physically near them, and I wonder how the next generation of people who grew up with friends online rather than in person will view things kind of thing. I often think about how when asked about why he left the Bujinkan, an old martial arts instructor of mine Charles Daniel replied “Who says I left? Maybe I just graduated.” I don’t know that I agree someone could ever “graduate” but I also liked that way of thinking, he was still doing “stuff” it was just different “stuff” and he brought with him everything he learned up to that point, the old stuff forever informing the new stuff.
So in the end I didn’t do something that I knew I’d enjoy because I knew it would also make me feel bad, and the next day I find myself wishing I had but also knowing why I didn’t. Sometimes everything makes sense, more often it doesn’t.
