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Fans at seminal punk club
924 Gilman Street in Berkeley,
CA were treated to a very special homecoming when
the venue played host to its first Pinhead
Gunpowder show since 1993. Singer, Billy
Joe Armstrong hasn’t been allowed
to perform at Gilman since Green Day
signed to Reprise/Warner in 1993, which banished
them from the independent-only club. A
$6 hand stamp was only available at the door
on the day of the show, as Gilman (officially
known as the Alternative Music Foundation)
never does advance sales; and despite the show
being largely unpublicized to prevent unwanted
attention from the likes MTV and major press
agencies, a line had already began to form by
noon in the unseasonably warm Bay Area sun,
for the show whose doors wouldn’t open
until 5:00PM.
Inside the venue, a star-studded
cast began to take form, with lurking local
heroes like Jesse Luscious
and Robert Eggplant from legendary
East Bay punk outfit Blatz;
Steve Koepke, who, for nearly
two decades, has hand-distributed his painstakingly
thorough list of upcoming local shows—aptly
called The List; and Armstrong’s
Green Day band mate, Mike Dirnt,
to name but a few.
Armstrong lingered in and
out of the club, dressed in a frumpy hooded
sweatshirt and an over-sized hat, seemingly
in an attempt to avoid recognition. Also in
the mix was the rest of Pinhead Gunpowder: bassist
Bill Schneider, guitarist Jason
White (who was part of Green Day for
a short time) and drummer Aaron “Cometbus”
Elliot, the ‘punk Kerouac’
known for journalizing his travels in the ‘zine
Cometbus since the
80’s.
By 7:00, the 250-person capacity
venue was sweating and brimming. As Pinhead
Gunpowder set up, the crowd was pressed so tight
against the stage and from wall to wall on either
side, it was as if the seams of the club would
split. When Armstrong took the stage much of
the crowd was swept with frenzy, cooing and
shouting. Older punks stood in awe, both excited
to see the show by the long-beloved Pinhead
Gunpowder, but also a bit rankled by the gut-wrenching
star-struck-ness of the younger fans.
Before the set, Armstrong
made one request to the audience. “Let’s
ditch the cell phones and digital cameras.”
Many roared in agreement, but nonetheless the
flashbulbs flickered.
With the first note, the crowd
surged forward and crushed the largely tiny
youth in the front. The immobile ‘pit’
swayed left and right like a riotous pendulum,
dozens of hands stuck in the air, struggling
to maintain their grip on their precious, though
unwelcome, phones and cameras. Karma truly is
a bitch.
Belting through song after
song with hardly a pause, the band played favorites
like “Losers Of The Year” and “Mpls”
as well as their cover of Joni Mitchell’s
“Big Yellow Taxi.”
Armstrong dedicated a song
to Dirnt, and another, “to all the babies
here tonight.” This would include the
frontman’s own son, who stood sidestage
along with several adolescent revelers. He also
gave brief singing tributes to John Denver’s
“Take Me Home, Country Road” and
Don MacLean’s “The Day The Music
Died” (to which White commented, “I
hate that song.”) In addition to the familiar
hits, the set test-ran two new songs—“Westside
Highway” and “The Anniversary Song”—out
of three tracks recently recorded and destined
for a seven-inch record release.
The closer for the night was
another cover—and certainly their oddest.
Originally sung by Diana Ross, PG’s ‘outro’
was the Theme from Mahogany ("Do
You Know Where You're Going To"). Unimaginable
as it may be, as with “Big Yellow Taxi,”
the Midas of pop-punk anthems reinterpreted
the song with his trademark exaggerated California
accent, making it sound like an Armstrong original.
With that, Pinhead Gunpowder
swiftly left the stage. The house briefly piped
in recorded music as the crowd started to demand
an encore—said music would normally signal
that one was planned; but security quickly called
to the sound booth for silence and began encouraging
the mob toward the doors. The set was scheduled
to continue for another fifteen minutes, so
it is hard to say if a planned encore was cancelled
(if so, presumably due to the relentless flashbulbs)
or if the band’s breathless transitions
just got through the gig early.
In any case, it is certain
that this was as much a nostalgic return for
Armstrong and the rest of the band as it was
for the old fans—to the time when Pinhead
Gunpowder was at its height and Green Day was
just about to explode. Even the kids who were
just getting born (or not even) got a once in
a lifetime glimpse at those glory days of East
Bay Punk. At $6, it would have been a bargain
at twice, if not three times the price, but
it was a fitting respect to the essence of that
time.
www.myspace.com/phgp27
www.924gilman.org
-Jef Hoskins, February
11, 2008
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