<\/a><\/p>\n

Did my dad know that he might ruin me with a book? Of course not. What could a book possibly do? It wasn\u2019t Story of the Eye<\/em>, or Tropic of Cancer <\/em>or even The Outsiders. <\/em>It was non-fiction. Educational. <\/em>All he knew was that his 12-year-old daughter was beginning to dress funny and gravitate towards a kind of music he couldn\u2019t relate to. So, he did what any supportive parent would do: he bought me a book on the subject. But this was no mere book.<\/p>\n

We Got the Neutron Bomb:<\/a> The Untold Story of L.A. Punk <\/em>was an oral history of punk\u2019s first wave in Southern California. Much like its New York predecessor Please Kill<\/em> Me<\/em>, Neutron Bomb <\/em>compiles hundreds of interviews with musicians, tastemakers, groupies and promoters into a sensational narrative. Edited by acclaimed music journalist Marc Spitz and former Masque owner Brendan Mullen, this was the book that changed everything for me \u2013 my answer to The Catcher in the Rye<\/em>. It was a bomb indeed; reconfiguring everything I had ever known about music, writing, and debauchery \u2013 which as it turns out, all go hand in hand.<\/p>\n

Informative the book was; innocent it was not. What my dad had unknowingly placed in my crimeless little hands was an instruction manual on bad behavior. He might as well have handed me the keys to his liquor cabinet. The pages were ripe with forbidden fruit, including, but not limited to the offensive quotes of The Runaways\u2019 manager Kim Fowley (the “C” word abounds), anecdotes about shooting up with gutter water, and spreads of full frontal nudity. Full frontal MALE nudity!<\/p>\n

It was a great time to be in the sixth grade. While everyone was speeding through the second Harry Potter tome, I was reading about people on <\/em>speed, cutting themselves with broken bottles, smearing their malnourished bodies with peanut butter, and having all the unprotected sex. And of course, there was the music, the wild disruptor that was the birth of L.A. punk.<\/p>\n

I am reminded of these growing pains with the recent publishing of Slash: A Punk Magazine From Los Angeles: 1977-80<\/a>.<\/em> Slash<\/em><\/a>, which first came to my attention while reading We Got the Neutron Bomb,<\/em> seemed to be the West Coast comrade of Punk Magazine <\/em>and Search and Destroy<\/em>. It was a newsprint rag of epic proportions when it came to chronicling the dizzying L.A. garage scene from its inception to its demise. The editorial backbone of the zine was as colorful as the bands they immortalized. At the core of Slash <\/em>were founders Steve Samiof and Melanie Nissen, who recognized the importance of documenting the careers of the commercially challenged. Where A&R reps may have heard mayhem, the crew at Slash <\/em>magazine heard the last cries of revolution. Or perhaps screams.<\/p>\n