Jason Traeger
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Anyone who knows me knows I've never been one to revel in the past. I'm the last one to cast a misty-eyed glance back at the "good old days". In my experience the people who take this angle are usually the ones who weren't there. Whatever mistakes, false starts and missed opportunities I've had the pleasure of having, I was wherever I was for better or worse.

This blog is not meant to romanticize any choices I made or any particular era. It's simply a place where I share stories and take stock of where I've been as a way to figure out where I might want to go next. I'll celebrate some people along the way, some of them you'll know or know of, others will be new to you. I'm glad to have known every one of them.

The posts are in no thematic or chronological order. The date at the end of the post's title refers to how the content of the post relates to me personally. I make no claim about the accuracy of my recollections I only promise that I'll be as honest and accurate as I can be. If you were there and you remember things differently than I do, or you find evidence that contradicts my memory (I wouldn't be surprised or upset) feel free to let me know.

Rather than editing the posts for historical accuracy, I'll put ( * ) next to any parts that have been challenged or updated for that reason.


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July 2, 2012
MARTA, GAVIN, ME and RAW POWER AT THE BEACH   SAN DIEGO 1984
Life’s a beach.
In 1984 there was a big international punk show held at The Olympic Auditorium in LA that featured headliners Dead Kennedys with BGK from Holland, Riistetyt from Finland, Italy’s Raw Power and Tijuana Punks Solucion Mortal rounding out the bill. The same line up, minus BGK I believe, played in San Diego the next weekend at the Adams Ave Theater.
I was a high school kid living in San Diego at the time and would’ve been way stoked for this bill even if I hadn’t been asked earlier in the month by Chris BCT to host one of the bands during their stay in SD. Chris was a big booster of the international hardcore scene and was involved somehow in putting these shows together. I asked my mom if she’d let a band stay with us a couple nights and, if you follow my blog at all you know how cool she is now and was then, she said yes. 
My friends and I went up to the LA show, and went backstage with Chris to meet Riistetyt the band I’d agreed to host. They were complete douches. They were no longer a hardcore band, they were now a glam rock band in the Finnish tradition of Hanoi Rocks . Along with their now crappy music they brought a crappy dismissive, drunky, druggy, rockstar attitude. I wasn’t going to let these guys into my mom’s world. No way, no how.
The dressing room next door was a whole other scene, even though only one of them spoke English, the guys in Raw Power were as warm and down to earth a bunch of guys as you could hope to meet. They were not only super friendly, they also played a brand of anarcho-metallic hardcore that was blisteringly manic and totally intense. These were the dudes I wanted to hang with. Hang with them I did.
On a side note: I also met Jello Biafra, the man I’d work for four years later, in the Raw Power dressing room. It’s funny to recall being a little star-struck at the time considering how well I came to know the guy in future days! 
To make a long story short, my mom, my brother and I ended up hosting Raw Power for over a week! The couple of days got stretched out to over a week because after the SD show a couple of the Italians went down to Tijuana to party with Luis and Solucion Mortal, which was a big mistake because some of their papers were still in NYC with a woman who’d helped get them to the states. Even though this was pre-9/11 America, the border was still the border and a couple shaggy mediterranean looking guys, with the wrong papers, who didn’t speak English weren’t getting back into SD unless they were ready to hop the fence…which the TJ punks offered to help them do by the way.
After discussing the options, they decided to wait for the papers to be sent express from the East Coast instead of trying to get across illegally and potentially be barred from the US forever. It turned out okay, mom and the guys made tons of spaghetti, we got to know the folks at the gelato place in the neighborhood, and we went to the beach almost everyday. This photo was taken at Pacific Beach I believe.
I remember when Fabiano and Davide finally got back from Mexico to mom’s house and the company of their tanned, well-fed and rested bandmates they were rough around the edges and suffering from some gastric distress. Davide clutched his stomach and said “San Diego…very good…Tijuana…not so nice!”
My mom and I were sad to learn ten years ago that guitarist Guiseppe Codeluppi had a heart attack and died. He was a nice guy.
…oh yeah, I’m sorry to say the guy in SD who ended up hosting Riistetyt after the show was stuck with a huge bill for a bunch of international phone calls they made while he was at work. I always felt bad about that, but hey, I got first pick what can I say?
R.I.P. Guiseppe Codeluppi
(Pictured L to R: Mauro Codeluppi, Guiseppe Codeluppi, Maurizio Dodi, Marta Brandes, myself, my brother Gavin Traeger. Polaroid from my personal archives)

MARTA, GAVIN, ME and RAW POWER AT THE BEACH   SAN DIEGO 1984

Life’s a beach.

In 1984 there was a big international punk show held at The Olympic Auditorium in LA that featured headliners Dead Kennedys with BGK from Holland, Riistetyt from Finland, Italy’s Raw Power and Tijuana Punks Solucion Mortal rounding out the bill. The same line up, minus BGK I believe, played in San Diego the next weekend at the Adams Ave Theater.

I was a high school kid living in San Diego at the time and would’ve been way stoked for this bill even if I hadn’t been asked earlier in the month by Chris BCT to host one of the bands during their stay in SD. Chris was a big booster of the international hardcore scene and was involved somehow in putting these shows together. I asked my mom if she’d let a band stay with us a couple nights and, if you follow my blog at all you know how cool she is now and was then, she said yes. 

My friends and I went up to the LA show, and went backstage with Chris to meet Riistetyt the band I’d agreed to host. They were complete douches. They were no longer a hardcore band, they were now a glam rock band in the Finnish tradition of Hanoi Rocks . Along with their now crappy music they brought a crappy dismissive, drunky, druggy, rockstar attitude. I wasn’t going to let these guys into my mom’s world. No way, no how.

The dressing room next door was a whole other scene, even though only one of them spoke English, the guys in Raw Power were as warm and down to earth a bunch of guys as you could hope to meet. They were not only super friendly, they also played a brand of anarcho-metallic hardcore that was blisteringly manic and totally intense. These were the dudes I wanted to hang with. Hang with them I did.

On a side note: I also met Jello Biafra, the man I’d work for four years later, in the Raw Power dressing room. It’s funny to recall being a little star-struck at the time considering how well I came to know the guy in future days! 

To make a long story short, my mom, my brother and I ended up hosting Raw Power for over a week! The couple of days got stretched out to over a week because after the SD show a couple of the Italians went down to Tijuana to party with Luis and Solucion Mortal, which was a big mistake because some of their papers were still in NYC with a woman who’d helped get them to the states. Even though this was pre-9/11 America, the border was still the border and a couple shaggy mediterranean looking guys, with the wrong papers, who didn’t speak English weren’t getting back into SD unless they were ready to hop the fence…which the TJ punks offered to help them do by the way.

After discussing the options, they decided to wait for the papers to be sent express from the East Coast instead of trying to get across illegally and potentially be barred from the US forever. It turned out okay, mom and the guys made tons of spaghetti, we got to know the folks at the gelato place in the neighborhood, and we went to the beach almost everyday. This photo was taken at Pacific Beach I believe.

I remember when Fabiano and Davide finally got back from Mexico to mom’s house and the company of their tanned, well-fed and rested bandmates they were rough around the edges and suffering from some gastric distress. Davide clutched his stomach and said “San Diego…very good…Tijuana…not so nice!”

My mom and I were sad to learn ten years ago that guitarist Guiseppe Codeluppi had a heart attack and died. He was a nice guy.

…oh yeah, I’m sorry to say the guy in SD who ended up hosting Riistetyt after the show was stuck with a huge bill for a bunch of international phone calls they made while he was at work. I always felt bad about that, but hey, I got first pick what can I say?

R.I.P. Guiseppe Codeluppi

(Pictured L to R: Mauro Codeluppi, Guiseppe Codeluppi, Maurizio Dodi, Marta Brandes, myself, my brother Gavin Traeger. Polaroid from my personal archives)

3:25pm  |   URL: http://tmblr.co/Zl8DhvOa5gZJ
(Notes: 3)
  
Filed under: raw power dead kennedys bgk solucion mortal mexico tijuana LA jello biafra bad compilation tapes 
March 27, 2012

AC/DC, RACE RELATIONS, ANGUS YOUNG and ME  TACOMA/S.F. 1981-1991 


AC/DC was the biggest band around in 1980 when I was in the 7th grade in the very white suburbs north of Seattle. Their logo was everywhere and their album Back in Black was truly inescapable. I was not a huge hard rock fan but I loved that album and all their earlier ones like everyone else seemed to.

I should not have to argue the case that AC/DC’s no-frills, four-on-the-floor, blues based hard rock kicked and still kicks serious butt. Sure their lyrics ranged from not-very-deep to downright dumb but who cared? If you wanted poetry you can read a book right? They wrote catchy songs full of power and attitude, had swagger, a sense of humor, Angus mooned the crowd and wore a school-boy uniform, and the rest of the band wore jeans and t-shirts. That was all very cool.

When I got into punk just after the Back in Black craze I was sure half the AC/DC fans out there would soon see the light and cut their hair too.

Didn’t happen.

Instead they yelled “DEVO!” and threw sh-t at us from their muscle cars. They stalked us mercilessly like prey through the streets. I’d play Black Flag, Minor Threat, and Bad Brains for the more sympathetic rockers I knew but they only cringed. They hated it. I’d play them D.O.A., the most hard rock-sounding of the punk bands I dug but they only complained that the band “couldn’t play their instruments” Ugh.

When I moved to Tacoma for my 8th grade year, I attended a school that was very economically, culturally, and racially diverse. Jason Lee Jr High School at 6th and Sprague was located near the working class, mostly black, Hilltop neighborhood but since it was an academically respected band magnet school, it drew a lot of well-to-do white kids from the stately homes in the affluent North End as well. I lived with my Mom, Stepdad and brother right by the school. 

The black kids I knew at school listened to all kinds of music but in the pre-hip hop era the biggest acts were the likes of Kool and the Gang, Rick James, Michael jackson, Teena Marie, and Prince. I liked a lot of that stuff too. I could definitely see a relationship between punk and stuff like Rick James and Prince in particular. If these kids didn’t dig my music they at least seemed sympathetic to my style. They might have had differing opinions about whether the punk look was ridiculous, funny, or maybe even “fly” but the one thing they all seemed to agree on is that it was harmless.

My nickname among some of the black kids was “Spider-leg” because my spiked up, dyed black hair looked like…yeah you guessed it.

When I pierced my ear it was scandalous. The whole school was aflutter about it. I was big for my age and I was well-liked so I wasn’t abused too badly about it but my sanity and my sexual orientation were questioned more than once that’s for sure. That is until the biggest, toughest kid in the school followed my lead and pierced his own ear too!

He was a fair skinned black kid named Raven who had a faint mustache and big biceps one of which had a crude homemade tattoo on it. He thought my earring was wild and told me it reminded him of a pirate. He thought I was cool for not giving a sh-t.

Looking back maybe I was cool.

Whatever the case, no one called me a fag behind my back for having a stud in my ear at school after that. Out on the streets was a different story…

When I talk about being harassed and attacked for looking punk I’m exclusively talking about white, redneck, rocker dudes doing the attacking. The black kids in my neighborhood certainly possessed fighting skills that were no doubt equal or superior to the rocker-types, they were just never seriously inspired to f-ck with us.

 I do remember being challenged by black kids a number of times but being invitedto fight is a lot different than being assaulted and terrorized by dudes twice your age and size as was often the case with the knucklehead, long haired, rocker a—holes.

As much as I hated those idiots and most of the music they liked, I stuck by AC/DC through the years. So much so that the first real guitar I ever bought years later was a plain brown Gibson SG just like Angus Young’s.

I had my revenge on those troglodyte heshers ten years later when I found myself hanging out backstage after an AC/DC concert drinking Heinekens and talking with Angus flippin’ Young (!) about all his houses around the world. The ones he told me he never got a chance to visit because they tour all the f-cking time! Hahaha! (raspy nicotine laugh)

A friend of a friend of mine who worked for ATCO Records had gotten me and my friend Rene Van De Meer (ex-singer of the super intense Dutch hardcore band BGK and total AC/DC freak) tickets and backstage passes to meet the band after their show at The Cow Palace in San Francisco.

Revenge is sweet and as I found out… so is Angus Young!

The black and white picture is from my Jason Lee Jr. HS 8th grade year book “Best Dressed” section. I’m pictured with my classmate, the beautiful and very stylish Ms. Sharon Stewart, who was only slightly put out (look at her expression) by being voted into the section along with the joke winner…me. I remember her saying something to the effect of “you gotta be kidding me, what’s up with putting my fine self in a picture with Punk Rock?” Punk Rock was another affectionate, if not terribly creative, nickname I was called by the kids at school. She had a point.

Backstage pass sticker signed by Angus Young and (AC/DC’s drummer on that tour) Chris Slade.

R.I.P. Rick James, Bon Scott, Teena Marie, and Cliff Lippman, the friend who set me up to hang with Angus Young. Thanks Cliff.

Both items from my personal archive.

(Source: jasonotraeger)

6:02pm  |   URL: http://tmblr.co/Zl8DhvIgNUWc
(Notes: 2)
  
Filed under: AC/DC Kool and the gang Prince Rene Van De Meer Rick James back in black bgk black flag black sabbath chris slade devo doa jason lee jr. high michael jackson minor threat punk teena marie angus young malcom young malcolm young brian johnson cow palace san francisco 
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