The Frankfurt Left and Young Socialists were hosting a talk at the Volksbildungheim, followed by a few local bands playing into the night here on 11 February 1989. I’d seen Situation B and Set Fatale before, but I think there was somebody in Tanz der Republik I wanted to see, and I’d never caught a Slaw Heads performance, although at least one of the members worked at the Batschkapp. I am pretty certain that I was the only American here this evening, but that was often the case when I was attending these small independent affairs.
While wandering through the audience, I bumped into my friend Michael Maier, who was looking for some hash and would circle back around if he found anything. Michael ran a small indie cassette distributor called MAM-Aufnahme. It turned out that someone else he knew ran into him, whom he also volunteered to get high; he sent her over to talk to the American who was also interested in photography.
This woman walked up to me about to introduce herself; my first reaction was a conditioned response due to how many people at concerts would see my backstage pass and recognize a possible path to meeting a band. The thought that raced through my brain was, “What does this brainless twit want?” Yeah, it was that harsh, but time and again, the people who wanted access to the band simply wanted to fawn over their idols. They didn’t give a shit about me personally, and the feeling was mutual.
“Hi, I’m Caroline. Michael said I should come over to talk with you as you are interested in video and photography, so am I.” From that encounter, that’s about all I remember. Little did either of us know that we’d already been in each other’s presence over a dozen times by this night at other events, including a lonely midnight on New Year’s Eve where at Galluswarte she sat by herself in the bleachers on the right of the venue, and I sat on the left side, oblivious to one another.
Over the next months, we’d encounter each other again and again. Each time we’d part ways and I couldn’t care less if I ever ran into her again.
That is until we stopped to talk for hours on the night of June 17, 1989, following our attendance at a show by the Pixies. So, while the ticket stub from above is from earlier in the year, this post really starts mid-year, on the night I fell in love with Caroline.
No, this isn’t a ticket, but I’d written some contact info for Union Carbide Productions on the back of this business card the night I first met them. But I’m getting ahead of myself.
After Caroline and I met, time and reality moved in peculiar ways aside from the fact I had to reorganize my senses and relationship with myself. My next show was just a week after the Pixies on June 25, 1989, but Caroline was in Amsterdam with a friend of hers, so there would be no meeting her there.
On July 12th, I was at Negativ with my friend Uwe Hamm, who dragged me out to see Napalm Death, whom Caroline had been smart to avoid. It wasn’t so much a concert as it was a massive brawl; I bailed out before the end of the show.
Then, on August 30, Caroline and I went to see Chris & Cosey at the Batschkapp.
What about the business card? Well, this was on September 15th up in Coesfeld, where I’d already visited twice this year. At about 300km (180 miles) from Frankfurt, it took me about 2 hours to get there driving along at 110mph. Caroline and I were going to see two bands, in particular; the first was GBH, and the other was UCP, also known as Union Carbide Productions. Also on the bill were the Cruisers and Bomb Disneyland.
I should have known better than to go see GBH after my disappointment seeing 999, but they were another iconic bit of my childhood I hadn’t been able to experience in person, so maybe this would do. Nope, the ten years between changed the energy just as it had from the time I saw 999 at the Santa Monica Civic in 1980 and catching a show earlier this year.
Union Carbide Productions hit it out of the park, though. This was like seeing Iggy Pop with a sound reminiscent of early Stooges’ work. Jeez, was I going old school? That Frankfurt band, the Slaw Heads, definitely channeled AC/DC, and I did go see Bon Jovi; maybe I was being corrupted.
Over the next few days, we were out on the road again to catch UCP opening for Wreckless Eric, and then on the 20th of September, we caught them one last time with Shifty Sherrif.
Six days later, we were in Bielefeld taping Firehose. As we pulled up to the venue, I found Mike Watt and introduced myself proffering an apology at the same time. Back in the summer of 1981, I’d left Arizona to return to California and the first gig I went to was a HUGE show at the Santa Monica Civic. Black Flag was the headliner, with the Adolescents, D.O.A., and the Minutemen in support. Minutemen were up first and this was my first time seeing them. I can’t tell why, but I had an early affinity for bass players; from Chuck Dukowski of Black Flag to Richie Stotz of the Plasmatics, I gravitated to putting myself in front of them.
Seeing Mike Watt up there on stage, that guy had a way with the bass like I’d never seen before. In my profound appreciation for how amazing he was, I started hocking up gobs of spit on him. Yeah, I know, gross, but it was the early ’80s, and somewhere along the way, I’d picked up that it was a compliment to send goobers up upon the artist you were paying homage to. Mike Watt definitely missed my sense of appreciation and hero-worship when he asked someone to throw a spotlight on the asshole in the audience who wouldn’t stop spitting on him. I ran for my life back out of the Civic and missed most of my first and only opportunity to see the Minutemen.
Sharing my mea culpa with Mike, he looked at me sideways, incredulous that this guy from Los Angeles, California, would run into him in Bielefeld, Germany, nearly ten years later to apologize. To my surprise or horror, he remembered the incident, but that didn’t stop him from allowing me to film his show that night.
The night after seeing Firehose, Caroline and I were at Negativ in Frankfurt to see the Cosmic Psychos, which to this day stands out as one of the top shows I’ve been fortunate enough to attend.
On September 30, we were out watching the Militant Mothers and Urge.
Four days later, Caroline and I were in Deinze, Belgium, at the Futurama Festival, where we saw Firehose again, but we were here for three bands: Jesus Jones, Urban Dance Squad, and the Stone Roses. Also on the bill were American Music Club, Bad Brains, Brian Ritchie (of Violent Femmes), Buffalo Tom, Hard‐Ons, and Hoodoo Gurus. As was my usual by now, I showed up without tickets and got myself on the guest list, except now I had someone else with me, and she became +1. For some time, Caroline even referred to herself as Plus One, as the roster of guests would typically read John Wise +1. While I’ve written this elsewhere on my blog, I wasn’t allowed to film the Stone Roses that night, but they did invite us to another show a few days later in Cologne, putting us on the guestlist for that gig too.
Next on the list of recorded shows was Bourbonese Qualk on the 21st of October. Followed by the Laughing Hyenas and Killdozer at Negativ. We watched the Klinik on November 1 at the Batschkapp, probably with another act, but nothing was documented, and I cannot find any info from that time. Jingo De Lunch on the 4th at the same place, followed by Bitch Magnet back at Negativ.
Distortion X and the Boxhamsters played on the 12th followed by Kabbahri opening for The Young Gods on the 16th of November.
Two days later, we were driving out to Hanau to a venue we’d never visited before; it was called Kuba. On the program here on November 18th, 1989, were two relatively unknown indie bands from the Seattle area and a new sound that was called Grunge, we watched and recorded Tad and Nirvana. Bleach had just been released 5-months earlier, while Tad’s first album was released a few months before that; it was titled God’s Balls. Pork Chop was my favorite from Tad, and just like everyone else at the time, Negative Creep was my favorite from Nirvana.
With the Sugarcubes playing right in Frankfurt, I’d have been a fool not to go talk to them, but foolishly I thought I could shoot a decent video from the balcony where nobody else would get in my way. It was a terrible location. In December, the Wedding Present returned to Frankfurt, and I liked them enough back in May that we returned to see them a second time in the same year.
In mid-December, a breakout concert took place at the Frankfurt Airport put on by Talla TXLC under the banner of Techno Club. It was Nitzer Ebb in the highest energy set we’d seen of theirs yet. The concert was right in the parking garage as Talla’s Dorian Gray club wasn’t big enough. Techno and all things beat-driven were starting to blow up.
I honestly didn’t think I’d ever see the Residents in person. I grew up listening to Dr. Demento on KMET in Los Angeles until I discovered KROQ and Rodney Bingenheimer stole my attention and brought me into punk rock. While my music tastes changed, I never lost my affinity for the Men in Eyeballs.
It’s April 10, and Nitzer Ebb is back. Prior to this show, we had been at the Batschkapp to catch Clock DVA, a favorite when psychedelics were around. Back to Nitzer Ebb, their show was at Volksbildungsheim and was different than anything that came before it, as in, there was a ton of polish. I came to understand why when backstage, I was introduced to Daniel Miller of Mute Records (deep connection to Throbbing Gristle), and I learned that this was a warmup show for the band opening for Depeche Mode on an upcoming tour of the United States.
Well, this was fucking weird. We went to see the Pixies a little more than a year after Caroline and I fell in love after their show and found Black Francis (Charles) to give him a tape of the previous year’s show and a souvenir. I presented him with an autographed hand-drawn image from Iggy Pop that he had drawn for me while he was in drug rehab in the summer of 1982. I’d learned that Charles was a big fan of Iggy’s and so I wanted to present a memento from me to Charles as a reminder of his big impact on my life. He folded it and put it in his pocket; our bet was that he threw it away. I asked about taping the night’s performance, and he said it wasn’t possible that the only reason they let me film the other show was because it was such a small gig as they’d been booked in the wrong size venue. And what about the guest list? Nope, can’t do that either, but I can get you guys a couple of free tickets. Butt hurt and now more interested in getting stoned, we split with our tickets and went home. Men becoming pop stars are assholes.
Revolting Cocks came to town for a gig at the Batschkapp on 14 January 1991, which was an amazing show, but I have to admit that it was also cool to hang out with the band after hours at Cooky’s. As great as that was, it was Luc Van Acker I enjoyed spending time with; he was a seriously nice guy, and Caroline and I loved his Danceable Weird Shit record, a perfect recording for stoners.
Well, this was it. With this show of Front 242 on the 25th of March 1991, I was finished with my interest in recording other people performing. I was never able to acquire the equipment that would have let me edit any of the shows I’d recorded, and the material I had often featured the shittiest of sound due to the limitations of cameras. Consumer cameras also played a role in poor quality as they weren’t geared for recording in low light. While the footage we captured at this Front 242 show and the performance on the next night at the same venue was later used by a lot of kids who were chopping it up to make fan videos, I put all the tapes in a metal suitcase and put them away for nearly 20 years before I decided that rather than risk degradation due to the aging metal tape anymore, I’d have them all transferred to a digital format.
So now I have about 150 hours of live footage from all these bands, and while the memories of my time getting into so many shows for free and chatting with these up-and-coming musicians was an experience I’d never exchange, I have no real idea what to do with the archive. And so I write about them and continue to let them stew in my recollections.
