"NO GOOD DEED GOES UNPUNISHED
BY A PUNK"
I must say, I do like a bit of punk.Though in reversal to the criminal, I prefer to keep the violence on the record, not off.
At the time of punk, I hated it.I didn't want to spit on anyone (though someone spat in my face in the street for no good reason beyond racism, a while ago).I didn't want to make gobbing on folk into an art form.Nor that other, supposedly, rock 'n roll antic: smashing-stuff-up.(I mean, the hotel staff WORKED HARD on those rooms, you self-obsessed dicks!).
I didn't want to go about being an obnoxious arse.Or with a permanent sneer - not as a lifestyle, anyway.
Reminds me of a woman I met.30 something.Singer
-songwriter type. Very angry.Liked thumping people. Especially if they had the temerity to talk as she foist one of her awful songs on them.Destroyed my mates juke box, booting it, as she liked to, in her juvanile attempts to appear cool and rebellious.
When she wasn't throwing beer bottles at heads, she was coaxing her equally viololent male friend into setting about folk.Folk they decided, on a drug fueled whim, they didn't like. I became just one such "Local Stigmatic."(Which film, by Al Pachino, sums up the situation exactly).
It was all part of the post-punk, rock-n-roll-mayhem lifestyle she was so desperate to be a part of.I could have told her she didn't have it. That her songs were awful, her singing ordinary, at best;
that she herself lacked the necessary charisma. But she'd only have spat on me before launching a full on attack. Besides, I'd never say such a thing to someone, even if I'm thinking it.
I got to know her through her serving my coffee in a local cafe.One day, she'd been given a huge black eye by her ex and said she was looking for new digs.Feeling sympathy for her as an abused woman, I told her about a room my mate was letting.I wasn't to know that she, in all probability, had started the fight.That, no doubt, she had landed as many punches as the fellow had, and, in all likelihood, had landed first.
She drank to excess, took drugs, all the stuff you do do. But she was violent with it.I was asleep at my mates when her attack on me was launched.It
Two-on-one isn't even
fair when you're awake.It
could have been worse.They could have stabbed me, or even killed me.Just maybe they hadn't taken enough drugs that night?They really would have made the perfect droogs for any Clockwork Orange.Her favourite phrase, I recall, was: "We gave so-and- so a kickin'!" Needless to say, now sober-eyed and not asleep, if I got her in the ring she be flat out cold, and for her monkey, i'll have a piece
Quite by chance another friend of mine at the time was sharing digs with the woman's sister.She memorably left a note for the household full of expletives and threat.Her psychotic scribble pinned to the coffee table with a steak knife.
It would be interesting to see how my punk woman turned out.As a famous punk singer, no doubt, being a violent alcoholic plays well.But if you haven't made it, the tunes you knock out may sound quite prosaic.
Favorite track: Fuck Brexit.