I, Shithead: A Life in Punk

239 Pages·2004·120.56 MB·English

by  Joey Keithley

I, SHITHEAD

I, SHITHEAD
a life in punk
JOEY KEITHLEY
ARSENAL
pulp press
Vancouver
I, SHITHEAD: A LIFE IN PUNK
Copyright © 2003 by Joe Keithley
Second printing: 2004
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or used in any form by any
means – graphic, electronic, or mechanical – without the prior written permission of the
publisher, except by a reviewer, who may use brief excerpts in a review, or in the case of
photocopying in Canada, a license from Access Copyright.
ARSENAL PULP PRESS
200-341 Water Street
Vancouver, B.C.
Canada v6b 1b8
arsenalpulp.com
The publisher gratefully acknowledges the support of the Canada Council for the
Arts and the British Columbia Arts Council for its publishing program, and
the Government of Canada through the Book Publishing Industry
Development Program for its publishing activities.
Design by Solo
Cover photography by Sylvie E. Thorne
Editing by Barbara Pulling
Copyright for photographs used in this book reside with their owners.
Printed and bound in Canada
National Library of Canada
Cataloguing in Publication Data
Keithley, Joe, 1956–
I, Shithead : a life in punk / Joe Keithley.
Includes index.
isbn 978-1-55152-148-0
1. Keithley, Joe, 1956– 2. D.O.A. (Musical group) 3. Punk rock
musicians – Canada – Biography. I. Title.
ml420.k28a3 2003 782.42166’092 c2003-911198-9
c o n t e n t s
author’s note 7
foreword 9 We’re All D.O.A.!
by Jack Rabid
prelude 17
chapter one 19 Growing Up
chapter two 29 The Skulls
chapter three 45 D.O.A.: The Beginnings
chapter four 57 The Early Days
chapter five 69 Punk Rock Pioneering
chapter six 81 Something Better Change
chapter seven 95 Harcore 81
chapter eight 109 War on 45
chapter nine 121 Politics, Protest, Upheaval
chapter ten 133 1984
chapter eleven 149 Let’s Wreck the Party
chapter twelve 165 The Endless Tour, Part Two
chapter thirteen 177 To Hell ’n’ Back
chapter fourteen 189 True Strong and Free
chapter fifteen 197 What the Fuck! Things Change!
chapter sixteen 205 Not So Quiet on the Western Front
chapter eighteen 213 Murder
chapter nineteen 223 Life After Death
appendices
233 D.O.A. Family Tree
235 D.O.A. Discography
acknowledgments 239

author’s note
Hey folks, it is a given in almost every rock band that there is some form of
substance abuse. D.O.A. was no exception to this. At times, it was rampant
with members of the band as well as people working with the band. At times,
substance abuse led to people being forced out of playing and working with
D.O.A. I’ve lost too many friends to put up with that shit.
But out of respect for people’s privacy, and because stories about people
being drunk and stoned are a waste of time, I’m not going into detail about
it in this book.
D.O.A. touring Hardcore 81. photo: Bev Davies
foreword
w e r e a l l d . o . a .
’ !
Jack Rabid
Joey Shithead is a Canadian institution. He’s the man who put the Canadian
underground rock/punk scene on the map. He’s also damn interesting
and hilariously funny. His perseverance in the face of constant chaos and
adversity has been crucial to the survival and ultimate triumph of his
band D.O.A. (Well, that plus more than his share of Molsons, Mooseheads,
Labatts, the occasional American swill, and lots of stronger brew overseas.)
Were it not for Joe, most of us in the East Coast wouldn’t even know the
geography of Western Canada, let alone the musical riches of the city of
Vancouver.
Joey Shithead? That’s Joey Keithley to you! Whereas I still get to call
him the old name – my rights are grandfathered, kind of like the old hockey
players who played without helmets after the rule change. Then again, the
one time my wife and I visited him in Vancouver, it seemed as if he knew
every passerby in town, as one and all alike called out from across the street,
“Hey, Shithead!” Some things you can’t outlive.
Anyway, I first met the Mr Shithead in question over two decades ago
(May 8, 1981) when the original lineup of D.O.A. made its third foray to
New York. (And what a rewarding acquaintance that has been since, both
personally and musically!) I introduced myself to him in-between their
two long, hardworking, awe-inspiring sets that night at the Peppermint
Lounge, a historic old joint off Times Square on 45th Street (of Joey Dee &
the Starlighters 1961 #1 hit “Peppermint Twist” fame). Nowadays, amazingly
enough, D.O.A. sells a dvd called Greatest Shits with vivid footage from that
night, showing them playing a typically hellacious version of “Get Out of
My Life.” I just about fell down laughing when I watched this recently, and
saw the back of my 19-year-old head and torso as it pogoed senselessly in my
customary place, at the front of the six-foot stage! But, given the blistering
assault captured so well in that footage, who could have done anything
else?
I’d seen this incredible band before, though I was still stuck in high
I, SHITHEAD | 10
school in the suburbs. I still thought
of touring musicians as grand exalted
wizards sequestered in magical,
hidden, sidestage drawing rooms full
of free alcohol and girls, and had no
access. But by 1981 I was in college
and in a local punk band myself. I was
also putting out my own fanzine. So
by 1981, I thought it nothing to just
saunter right into the sanctum, where
they were indeed consuming copious
amounts of their beer allowance along
with their old West Coast friend Jello
Biafra – in town for his own smokin’
Dead Kennedys shows. While giving
Joe issue five of Big Takeover, I told him
that the copy of the brand new D.O.A.
second lp Hardcore 81 he’d thrown
off the stage into the crowd had been
wrestled out of my hand by some jerk
twice my size. (The cover got all twisted and bent, served the jerk right.) So
Joe promptly just handed me another one. Hey, thanks Joe! I think that copy
is worth a few hundred bucks now. What a pal!
I wish there was some way to convey how truly stunning a D.O.A. show
was back then. There was only one other band in the world who could touch
them, and that was the (early) Bad Brains, who thankfully shared New York
stages with D.O.A. twice. The effect of the original lineup of Joe on guitar
and lead vocals, Dave Gregg on second guitar, Randy Rampage on bass, and
Chuck Biscuits on drums was like being thrown off a bridge and living to
tell about it. They were an absolute whirlwind of lightning guitars, gut-
smacking bass lines, and the hottest drumming I’ve ever seen in twenty-five
years of live concerts. (I never saw The Who’s Keith Moon, but from movies
like The Kids Are Alright, I swear the young Biscuits gave the young Moon a
run for his money.) No one could forget the band’s raw abandon on stage:
I think Rampage leaped so high so many times he nearly hit the balcony
overhang to his right. And clad in his usual Airborne t-shirt, Joe was putting
his considerable chest into his vocals, as Gregg was bent over (he appeared to
be giving birth) from playing so hard.
And D.O.A. weren’t just hitting you over the head for fun. It’s also
impossible to forget the band’s utter conviction. Whether playing politically