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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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 
March 25, 2012

JOHN LENNON MURDERED  SEATTLE 1980


John Lennon’s murder in 1980 meant a lot of things to a lot of different people. For me it was a crushingly sad event that in some way signalled the end of the complicated world of my childhood and the beginning of the complicated world of my adolescence.

The link between my childhood (when I was most interested in imagining, watching and reading tales of elves, faeries, ghosts, and worlds of sci-fi and fantasy) and my teen years as a punk-obsessed urban explorer was an extended liminal tween state that could be called my “BMX and Beatles” phase.

I’ll talk about my experience in the regional BMX world of the late 70’s some other time because in this post I’d like to focus on the role The Beatles and Lennon in particular had in setting the stage for my punk teen awakening.

My Mom and Dad, who divorced when I was around four years old, weren’t ex-hippies nor were they particularly big rock/pop fans. They both loved music though. Mom listened a lot to Carole King’s Tapestry album and other music of the era but mostly played Classical music around the house. Dad’s taste veered more toward 50’s rock like Bill Haley and the Comets and Elvis, Country music like Willie Nelson, Johnny Cash, Charlie Rich and Country folk like John Denver and Gordon Lightfoot.

Most everybody my parents age at least liked The Beatles and my folks were no exception. I don’t recall exactly when or how I came to love the Beatles so much, sure they were hard to miss, they were all over the radio and still very present in pop culture. After all, Beatlemania had only subsided maybe 8 years before I got into them and they’d only been broken up for maybe five years at that point. Still I didn’t know any other kids who loved them and certainly not the way I did. 

I liked other music too. When my Dad started dating my future step-mom Bobbi, I missed no opportunity to flip through her good-sized record collection where I found treasures like the Beach Boys early records and most notably Jimi Hendrix’s “Are You Experienced” a record that I’m still trying to recover from.

Most of music of the 70’s as I knew it was pretty weak and crappy sounding to me. As a little kid I was a scared off from really digging hard “older brother” stoner-rock like Aerosmith and Black Sabbath.  Even the best radio pop like Fleetwood Mac and The Carpenters seemed very adult and not just a little bit sad and depressing to me. I wasn’t feeling disco very much either probably because that’s all any one at my school seemed to care about, beside KISW rock that is.

So I got lost in The Beatles and the 1960’s.

Sgt. Pepper’s was a world I could visit any time I wanted to with my big clunky grey headphones. The White Album had everything I wanted from music on four LP sides: straight ahead pop, touching ballads, inscrutable experimental excursions, and full-blown proto-punk shreds like Helter Skelter. Hendrix’s ghost loomed large over Seattle in that era too. Even though his jams could be as hard as anything else (also presaging my punk years, I used to listen to his song Fire over and over) there was a flair, a depth and a genius color palette in his music that was much more inviting to my ears than stuff like Led Zeppelin, who for some reason I despised back then.

My devotion to The Beatles also extended to their post-Beatles output too. I LOVED Wings and All Things Must Pass very much but it was Lennon’s stark Plastic Ono Band and Imagine albums with their strange, plain production and their serious personal, political, and philosophical themes that touched my soul most profoundly. Even though, and maybe especially because I was a kid, I desperately wanted to hear that kind of plain talk from a grown up. I wanted to hear about love and god and pain and all the stuff he talked about on those albums.

When Lennon was murdered so brutally and senselessly I really felt like I’d lost one of my best friends and that the dream was over.

I’d have to find a new one for myself.

R.I.P. Jimi, George Harrison, Johnny Cash, Elvis, Charlie Rich, Bonzo, John Denver, Bill Haley, Karen Carpenter and my childhood friend John Lennon.

Clip from Komo 4 Seattle.

2:21pm  |   URL: http://tmblr.co/Zl8DhvIZ2SRz
(Notes: 1)
  
Filed under: Beatles john lennon BMX tween seattle punk hardcore charlie rich johnny cash willie nelson jimi hendrix are you experienced tapestry carol carole king john denver gordon lightfoot led zeppelin black sabbath imagine the dream is over fire 
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