I Was Beat Up at an LA Punk Show

In the winter of 1981, I responded to a back page ad in Flipside, an independent zine covering the Los Angeles punk scene. The ad read: “Videographer needed to document local concert.” I’d spent several thousand dollars on a Panasonic video camera and was looking for ways to recoup the investment. I called the number and spoke with Boris, a man with a heavy Slavic accent. He told me to meet him on Wednesday night at the Stardust Ballroom, an aging big band venue at the corner of Western & Sunset in East Hollywood. My job was to videotape several hours of punk rock performances and I would be paid $300. It sounded simple enough. I’d been a drummer in high school with a love for prog-rock bands like Genesis and King Crimson. I didn’t know much about punk. I’d heard the Sex Pistols and the Clash. I figured punk was just another outlet for teen angst and rebellion, the essence of all rock ’n’ roll. <a href="https://lorenwoodcuts.medium.com/i-was-beat-up-at-an-la-punk-show-9242a267453a">Click Here</a>