OFF - Off + Chuck Dukowski Sextet - Haunted

The importance of L.A.’s punk pioneers Black Flag cannot be understated. Even if history only confirms one album, Damaged, as the band’s crowning achievement, you have to consider the band beyond anything committed to magnetic tape. From their grueling tour schedule, to the D.I.Y. ethos of their label SST Records, to their dangerous encounters with the Los Angeles Police Department, Black Flag is a band that could never be duplicated in today’s world. Not that you’d want to, based on their numerous war stories.

Because of this, the members of Black Flag’s continual line-up changes deserve a bit of respect In their post Flag offerings, regardless of how important their career changes were.

For Black Flag’s first vocalist, Keith Morris, that respect was secured with the Circle Jerks, another prominent SoCal punk rock band that continues to inspire and be revered even in the new century.

For Black Flag’s original bassist and occasional wordsmith Chuck Dukowski, the ability to say something nice about his work after Flag becomes a bit of a stretch. After researching and re-listening to Duke’s work in such forgotten SST releases by SWA and October Faction, the best thing that can be said is to leave well enough alone.

It may surprise some that we can now consider both of these alumni members as legitimate members of the post-millennium music scene, not just card-carrying SST members looking to cash in on a bit of nostalgia, although both men have participated in at least some kind of reunion effort of their former glories.

Dukowski’s current gig centers around a band that bares his name: the Chuck Dukowski Sextet. The CD6 features Chuck’s wife Lora on vocals, an artist who not only delivers stunning visual pieces (check out the band’s album covers) but also a surprisingly awesome vocal take on the Dukowski penned Flag classic “My War” from the band’s debut album, Eat My Life.

They included the cover on a split 7” they did with Mike Watt’s Missingmen project last Spring. The effort was released on their new record label Org Records as a way to remind listeners of Dukowski’s lineage, a promotional tactic that must have worked since it certainly brought the CD6 on my radar.

Keith Morris’ latest band, OFF!, also took flight after a bit of reminiscing and the subsequent falling out between band members trying to revisit old tunes while trying to ignore old personality clashes.

When Morris’ Circle Jerks decided to give it another go, the members found a huge gulf between the idea to make the band just another nostalgia act or to take things a step further by incorporating new songs into the mix. When some members were unable to devote the time necessary to work on new material and when some voiced concern over producer Dimitri Coats’ own work demands, Morris put the Circle Jerks on hiatus and continued to work on the songs that he and Coats had started.

Off! just released their debut album over the summer, and it’s hard to find fault with Morris’ decision and with Coats work ethic either.

Off! screams by at barely a quarter-hour, with every second sounding like it’s the most important thing in the world, even when the subject matter obviously isn’t.

Don’t think that Off! Is riddled with greasy kid stuff, but there are moments where Morris is able to channel his younger angst. Most notable is “I Got News For You” where the Keith takes a haymaker towards Black Flag and SST founder Greg Ginn. Ginn is pretty notorious for questionable payment practices, and Morris may be the first SST alumni to publically call him out via a 45-second song, even one that hijacks a line or two from Flag’s “You Bet I’ve Got Something Against You.” “We trudged through sludge and piss/Were never paid for this!” he screams, while Coats does an incredible job of being able to alternate between Ginn’s free jazz chaos and punchy Stooge riffs.

Haunted is the latest offering from the Chuck Dukowski Sextet, and while it’s nowhere near the intensity level of Off’s pace, it’s closer to SST Record’s spirit with its unpredictable tangents.

As with the band’s previous records, the weakest link is vocalist Lora Norton who struggles with pitch, delivery, and a general sense of identity. Usually, she remains in a comfort range of a slow burn stoner, somewhat resembling Opal’s Kendra Smith, without the mystery or consistency.

It’s a family affair for the CD6, and thankfully Norton’s son Milo Gonzales has shaped up to be a pretty passionate guitarist, giving Haunted its moments of much needed power. With a bit more work and a bit more attention at figuring out exactly what kind of band they want to be, the CD6 remain in this weird purgatory of notable potential with some members clearly dragging their feet on the band’s overall forward movement.

Gonzales seems stifled with his mother on board as he conjures up visions of Witch Mountain with his axe and wah-wah pedal while Nora plays passive/aggressive with her delivery, stubbornly  keeping Haunted tethered to on the ground while the kid sounds like he’s ready to take off.

The worst offender is the eight-minute (that’s half of Off’s entire total time, if you’re keeping track) “A Thing,” which drags on and on like it’s trying to compete as some weak V.U. cover, complete with the obligatory drone viola.

For now, the CD6’s best work remains confined to that out-of-this world “My War” cover, which is unfortunately ironic as the band is clearly trying to branch out from Dukowski’s own past.

And maybe that’s the problem: the CD6 are simply thinking too hard at trying to find themselves, when all they need to do is to try and find the same kind of passion that Morris was clearly able to conjure up in short order with Off!

This review originally appeared in Glorious Noise.

Joe Carducci - Enter Naomi

Reading Joe Carducci’s Enter Naomi has helped me deal with the loss of the friend I wrote about a few weeks ago. The book chronicles Carducci’s relationship with Naomi Peterson, staff photographer at SST Records back in the 80’s. It also documents the road that Peterson took to get to such an achievement as well as the road to her premature death at the age of 39.

Peterson’s name was not only synonymous with the bands on SST Records, she became the eye to many of the most influential bands of the 80’s and early 90’s. Then, the name that graced so many credit listings suddenly became scarcer. It was a second edition of Rollins’ book Get In The Van before her death was made public.

It is made public again and goes deeper into her life with Enter Naomi. Carducci provides succinct descriptions of her days growing up Asian-American in Southern California, detailing a teenage Naomi who seemed to struggle with her mixed heritage even when she was as beautiful as any California blonde darling.

Her dark clothing and dyed hair gave way to the underbelly of Southern California’s emerging punk scene, and with her good looks and bubbly personality, she worked her way in.

She picked up a bottle for courage and a Nikon camera as a reason for being there. After one too many late nights out, her father banished Naomi from their home, hoping to get his daughter to follow the American Dream that he tried to provide as a serviceman.

Instead, Naomi followed a different path, this one to SST records. At first, it may have been just a chance to crash, but later it became the place where her talents were fostered and utilized.

What is interesting is how Carducci attempts to spin a narrative of her life only after she passed away. There is almost a sense of guilt in his words-and from others who provide their memories over someone they ultimately didn’t know anything about when she was alive.

We hear about her struggles with identity, but nobody explains why. We learn about her failed relationships, but little is know why. We hear about her struggles with alcoholism, but again, we don’t really know why.

Naomi, it seemed, spent more time trying to capture the stories of others through her camera and not enough time trying to relay her own. Within those struggles of identity was a woman who cared more about creating the identity of others. She felt out of place, yet found a home with a bunch of similar outsiders, and the more she got closer to them, the more she realized that her own burdens might have been a but more superficial than the punk rocker from the broken home in front of her lens.

With these gaps, Carducci begins adding bits of the SST family to the story, which can be a bit long-winded to anyone who isn’t familiar with it.

Luckily, I was. The names of Greg, Raymond, Mugger, D., Mike Watt, and a host of others, leap from the pages like old friends, even though I don’t know any of them. Like Naomi, SST seemed a little bit like family to a lot of us. Their bands came at critical times in my own life, so to hear their names is all the more comforting.

We read about them in fanzines and through second-hand information. They seemed larger than life, but works like Enter Naomi show us how it all was part of an incredible moment of d.i.y. ethos and a tremendous amount of hard work, one that did not produce its rewards for at least another decade.

And by then, everyone just seemed too exhausted to fight anymore, Naomi Peterson included.

I remember. I’m sure a lot more people do, too.

That’s why Enter Naomi ultimately becomes some kind of blessing to have.

Because there was really very little beyond her artistic fulfillment that benefited her and rewarded us. There was very little in terms of financial compensation, and after a while, it’s easy to understand why someone would finally just cash out and try to lead a normal life.

Even today-as of this writing-there isn’t even a Wikipedia page devoted to Naomi Peterson.

Enter Naomi was written in 2007.