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I
got into Punk Rock/Hardcore while I was living in San Antonio,
Texas. I traveled up to Austin on the weekends to check out
shows. They were great shows. I saw every hardcore band from
San Francisco and LA, as well as the local Austin bands, over
a 4-year period.
I came home to Cleveland and caught the Dead Kennedys at the
Engineers Hall, summer '82. I was amazed at the amount of people
there. It wasn't until I returned home to live in Cleveland
that I realized there weren't that many local punks at all the
shows.
During the DK show I met a good friend of mine--Alex Strouhal.
I think Alex thought I was insane because I was wearing an MDC
(Millions of Dead Cops) t-shirt I made that had little stick
men on it with blood shooting out of their heads. I slam danced
for two hours straight and was wearing an army cap with a newspaper
clipping safety pinned to the brim that said, "Politics As Usual."
Alex said to me after the show, "Dude you're not from around
here are you?" We chatted, and I told him I was from Cleveland
originally and living in Texas.
Snip, snip and fast foreward a bit. . .
After returning to Cleveland, I met up with Alex again at the
Pop Shop during a Circle Jerks show. He invited me stop by his
apartment to jam and get high.
We got very high-I played a little guitar for him and he suggested
we start a band. I agreed. That was the beginning of Pestilence.
Hopefully, Alex and I will put together a band bio/story on
Pestilence soon.
Anyway, I played guitar in Pestilence with Alex on vocals, Mike
Zubal on bass, and John Skully on drums. Then they kicked me
out (well, I was offered the choice of showing up to practice,
or else). I tend to lose interest, and preferred getting high
to any other activity known to man. So, I was out.
Alex and I were still friends and went to shows together. One
night he told me I should come to the Lakefront to see Plague.
In the short amount of time I was back in Cleveland I hadn't
heard of them, nor seen any of their gigs. I asked Alex what
their bag was, and he told me that Plague were definitely one
of the harder bands in town. Enough said for me.
I liked the Lakefront-from the time I saw my first show there
to when I was playing with Pestilence. That night in October
'84 the usual crowd was there, well if you can call 30 people
a crowd. Plague was getting ready to play. . .
I remember this wall of sound coming from this three-piece-and
that the singer/guitarist sounded like Darby Crash (only ten
times better) on vocals and that he had a "Hardcore meets Punk
Rock meets Metal" guitar sound. It was hot and I thought to
myself that they were indeed a hard fucking band. As Alex and
I absorbed the music, it occurred to me that the said guitarist
looked familiar. I screamed into Alex's ear, "What's that guy's
name," as I pointed to the singer/guitarist. He replied that
his name was Bob Sablack.
It hit me then-I went to high school with Bob. And this was
very cool to me because no one I knew from school was into Punk/Hardcore
(I left that high school after two years). I hadn't seen Bob
in about 8 years at this point-so seeing and hearing him jamming
and tearing it up was great. And I mean they were "on" that
night; tight, hard, loud, mean, and pissed. I really liked what
I was hearing.
After Plague finished I waited for Bob to began circulating;
I approached him and said, "Dude, that was a hot set, I really
enjoyed that." He thanked me and then I asked if he remembered
me. He did right away, and we went over all the old shit. We
laughed when we discussed how we used to write out guitar chord
diagrams to songs while we were in HomeRoom and passed them
back and forth to each other, and how I used to fuck with big
jock types-busting their balls. Interestingly, none of them
ever tried to kick my ass.
At this point in my meager Punk Rock career, I had decided I
wanted to sing in a band and not play guitar; Bob had decided
he wanted to play guitar and not sing. So, we chatted about
the possibility of me joining Plague. Plus, I had instant roadies
included in my entourage-my cousin Tom Mancini, and the illustrious
and ever "down with the party," Dave DiVincenzo.
And so it was. I joined Plague and we played out with me on
vocals, probably about 6 times. The last show was at the Cleveland
Public Theater. Some of the high points of that show were when
I found out that the Communist Party was making money there
selling refereshments-I announced this to the crowd as soon
as I got on stage. I didn't think Communists were interested
in making money, or that they should make any under the guise
of being nice to punks. They accomodated the show so I guess
they had a right to sell stuff-but I wanted folks knowing to
whom their hard earned "Punk Rock" money was going. A few minutes
after my announcement, two underfed looking comrades began dogging
me from the edge of the stage. They were posturing like I had
a good old KGB beating coming to me. However, my passage into
the bowels of the Moscow dungeon never occurred.
We played a hot set-featuring our favorite cover, The Meat Men's,
"Lesbian Death Dirge." That song also created some friction
with the lesbian contingent, which threw beer cans and cups
at me for the rest of the night.
In closing-I was removed from the Plague shortly after that
show. I snorted enough coke nightly that when I woke up in the
morning I could scrape out the inside of my nose, chop the snot
on a mirror, and get high all over again. I was pretty much
unavailable.
That time was murky for me-but I remember being informed by
Romana Strouhal that I had been replaced. I didn't even receive
severence pay! Bob and I remained friends over the years and
our guitar playing together evolved-we started another band
that never took off, 22MC. It featured Bob and my cousin Tom
Mancini on guitars, Tom Madigan on bass, and myself on drums.
It was cool and we should have continued.
My final statement, and I have said this before to Bob, is that
Plague should have never added me, or subsequent additions to
the band--they were a great three piece. If you've never heard
their first recording, you should, because it is hot! It is
everything that the music intended to be at that time.
I had a lot of fun with Duke, Johnny, and Bob-we busted balls
and laughed our asses off everytime we were together. And the
music was good-and THAT my little Droogies, is priceless.
Don
Piccirillo aka, "That guy who gets kicked outta bands." |
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| It
occurs to me that my memories of bands usually involve moments
that have little to do with their music, but more of the times
that was spent hanging out together. Here is a quick tale about
Bobo Sablack and Duke. I was in my truck, leaving the Cleveland
Underground. I was, as usual, 'hammered' and didn't want to
drive with any beer in my vehicle. I had one full can left,
and so, stopped and hollered to a group mingling by the clubs
front door, "hey, who wants this beer?" Sablack and Duke broke
into a sprint towards me (insert Chariots Of Fire theme here),
about a 20 yard dash. At the last second, Bobo shoved Duke,
causing Duke to stumble then fall head first into the side of
my truck. Dukes head left quite a dent. Sablack grabbed the
beer, popped the top, and took a long chug. Duke, from the ground,
called up "fucker! save me some". Them two always were like
brothers. (Cheese Borger) |
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