Dave Grohl, Times Like His

by Martin James

  Dain Bramage played their first gig in December 1985 at Burke Community Centre in Virginia. As Grohl explained, it was to the dismay of the hardcore crowd that the ex-Mission Impossible/Fast duo had gone in such an arty, experimental direction. However, despite the negative response of much of the crowd, the band did impress a few of the more eclectically-minded punks, after which Dain Bramage slowly built up some fanatical support.

  Somewhat inevitably the band enlisted the support of the aforementioned producer Barrett Jones, vanishing into his Laundry Room Studios to capture a couple of demos in 1986. These demos found their way into the hands of A.O.C. drummer Reed Mullin who passed on the good word about Dain Bramage to Los Angeles independent label Fartblossom Records. This fantastically-named label agreed with Mullin’s positivity and signed the band to record an album. Between July 20-24, 1986, the trio entered the twenty-four track RK-1 Recording Studios in Crofton, near Annapolis. The resulting album I Scream Not Coming Down was, according to Grohl, “a fine demonstration of our blend of rock, art punk, and hardcore. I still like it.”

  Thankfully, the songs contained on that album were a tad less contrived than the title itself. Grohl’s ability to create simple but powerful patterns with dynamic yet understated fills came to the fore. However, the band relied more heavily on the interplay between guitar and bass. While such a dissonant approach may have worked for bands like Husker Du (whom they most often echoed), Dain Bramage were unable to combine the urgency of hardcore and the elasticity of jazz with quite such aplomb. In March 1987, Dain Bramage was to call it a day less than a year after the release of I Scream Not Coming Down.

  Despite Dain Bramage’s growing audiences and critical acclaim, Grohl became tempted to change allegiances to Virginia hardcore band Scream. Grohl was still only seventeen when he saw a flyer of theirs hanging on a music store wall which he was immediately moved to act upon.

  “Scream’s first two records were among my all-time favourites, so this little flyer was more than just that. Originally, I’d just wanted to call (Scream guitarist) Franz, jam with them once or twice, then be able to tell my friends, ‘I got to play with Scream!’ So I called Franz a few times and finally got an answer. I explained that I was a huge fan, told him which bands I’d played in, and that I’d love to give it a shot… He never called back.” (5)

  A few months went by and Dave called Franz again, this time convincing him to schedule a proper audition. “After a few more practices, it was apparent they were serious about me joining.” He continued, “This was something that never entered my mind, the possibility of actually joining Scream. I had to really weigh the options: 1) Leave my two greatest friends in the dust and travel the world with one of my favourite bands ever. Or 2) to stick with Dain Bramage and hope it all works out.” (6)

  Grohl initially decided to turn down the drummer’s position in the band, despite his huge respect for Scream, largely due to a stronger allegiance to his friends in Dain Bramage. However, this all changed when he saw Scream play live again.

  “I called Franz and told him ‘no’. I explained my situation and apologised. I think he understood and invited me to their next show a few weeks later. It was one of the greatest Scream shows I’d ever seen. I changed my mind.” (7)

  Another reason for his decision to join Scream was that Dain Bramage’s album tour had fallen through, so he felt he had less of a reason to stay. Eventually, Dave Grohl departed the Dain Bramage drum stool without any real warning to his friends. The Scream rehearsals had, they thought, been just for fun. Shocked by the decision, but nonetheless understanding, the remaining duo of Smith and Radding tried to form a new band. Their problem was, however, a simple one. Grohl was too hard to replace.

  “After you’ve spent a couple years with Dave Grohl as your drummer it’s easy to feel like no other drummer exists,” stated Radding on the Dain Bramage fan site (8). Radding started jamming with another band that included Samhain drummer, London May. Considered as a possible Grohl replacement, Radding and Smith invited May to join them to record demos of Radding’s new songs. They were never released and May moved to Los Angeles.

  In late 1987, Smith moved to New York where he joined the bands Fun House and Carey’s Problem, the latter of whom released one eponymous album. In 1991 he moved west to Eugene, to study environmental science at Oregon University. On completing his degree, Smith remained in Eugene and joined the ranks of an improvisational group of musicians called Sunday Brunch Breakdown. SBB became a regular at parties in their hometown but eventually came to an end when the various members moved on. Smith subsequently moved to Seattle, Washington, where he plays bass for numerous bands.

  Radding followed Smith to New York a year later in 1988. Here he developed a name for himself as a bass player of great creative versatility. Radding quickly immersed himself in the ‘Downtown’ music community. He performed in groups led by jazz and leftfield avant-garde luminaries such as Elliott Sharp, Roy Campbell Jr., John Zorn and Marc Ribot, the latter of whom he toured Europe with as a member of Shrek. He also took the lead role in the Sun Ra repertory band Myth Science, that released a CD, Love In Outer Space on the legendary Knitting Factory Works label.

  Radding relocated to Seattle in 1997, where he performed with an equally impressive array of avant-garde jazz musicians. He returned to New York in 2002. Radding is a highly respected and in demand bassist whose own achievements have placed him on the international stage. He has featured on over thirty recordings, and has appeared at many major Festivals. Grohl, Smith and Radding remain friends and still talk about a reunion of some kind. Time permitting!

  When Grohl first approached Scream, he lied about his age, telling them he was twenty years old, rather than seventeen. He had recently been expelled from High School thanks to his all-embracing love of punk and the hardcore scene which perhaps inevitably had been somewhat detrimental to his studies. He was, he said in 1992, “so stoned that I had no idea what I was studying.”

  During those first rehearsals with Scream he found himself living out a fantasy as he pounded at his kit along to a band he’d loved for years, playing songs that had changed his life. Any thoughts of continuing at school were filed away for good.

  Rather than disown their son for dropping out, Grohl’s parents were actually very proud of him. “Yeah, (they were proud) ‘cos I was always a great drummer!” he said in Metal Hammer in August 2003). “And she (his mother) didn’t even have to buy me a drum kit. Both my parents were proud. They might not have put my records on at night with a glass of Chardonnay, but they thought it was a constructive application. And I’m forever indebted to both of them.” (9)

  For Grohl, the decision to join Scream was more than just a fantasy fulfilled. It also provided him with a direct route to the core of the harDCore heartland. Until now, his bands had either been adoring onlookers or interesting side attractions; with Scream he was smack in the full glare of the hardcore spotlight. Yet it wasn’t this limelight that attracted Grohl – it was a music fan’s passion and a scorching desire to play in that actual band, something which would resurface years later when he took to the drums for rock band Queens of the Stone Age and later his childhood heroes, Killing Joke.

  “Seeing as how Scream records were among those I used to play drums to on my bed when I was first learning, I knew all their songs by heart,” he stated in 1995. “I even had an advance copy of their latest demo. So when Franz looked at me and asked, ‘What do you want to play? Some Sabbath? Or some Zep?’ I said, ‘Nah. Let’s play…’ and rattled off the names of all their songs. The next two hours were heaven for me, to be able to play Scream songs with the real deal.”

  Why was Grohl so hypnotised by the prospect of joining Scream? Well, their pre-Grohl history is both influential and fascinating. Scream had formed in 1981 with the line up of brothers Peter and Frantz Stahl on vocals and guitar respectively. Skeeter Thompson took on bass duties while Kent Staxx played drums. Hailing from the musical wasteland of Alexan
dria, Virginia, they quickly set their sights on playing further afield. In 1982, despite having no record deal, they set off on their own self-financed tour of the US. Their main aim was to be accepted into the Washington harDCore scene, an important step for any serious hardcore punk act. Quite simply DC was, as Frantz Stahl put it in an interview in the December 1982 edition of punk bible Flipside, “the big headquarters.”

  Initially, however, they found few friends among the DC hardcore elite. The scene was extremely small and largely revolved around the workings of Dischord. Scream’s first gig in Washington was at the city’s HB Woodlawn venue but unfortunately the crowd almost universally rejected the band’s combination of hardcore guitars and Bad Brains-style reggae vibe. It didn’t help that they did not look the part. They didn’t spike their hair, they wore tennis shoes rather than boots. The punk rock fashionistas took immediate note and struck Scream’s name from their little black books. In a 1982 interview with the Touch And Go fanzine, Skeeter and Pete gave their version of events.

  “It took us a while to sort of get into the scene,” explained Skeeter. “The first time people heard us they weren’t sure what we were trying to do. We played the first Wilson Centre show (legendary regular shows that featured all of the hardcore and punk big guns of the time)” continued Pete, “…and the crowd naturally rejected us because we were outsiders.”

  When asked if the problem was that the band weren’t cool enough for the DC scenesters, both Pete and Skeeter were unified in their brutally honest reply: no, it was because they simply weren’t good enough. “I think we were good but we were pretty lackadaisical and Pete would be the only person really into it… I was pretty nervous if there was more than fifty people, because we were used to playing parties,” recalled Skeeter. (10)

  The Wilson Centre shows were integral to the creation of the early DC harDCore scene. Located in an area renowned for its high refugee population, the Wilson Centre housed a free clinic, social service facilities and an employment office. It rented out its basement venue in order to raise funds. HR, frontman with Bad Brains had long been on the lookout for a non-profit making venue at which to put punk shows on. The Wilson Centre was perfect – not only ideologically, but also architecturally. The first gig included a staggering array of bands including Bad Brains, Minor Threat, Black Market Baby, GI, SOA, Red C, Law and Order, Broken Cross, Mod Subbs, Prophecy, Scream and Void.

  It was at a May gig at The Woodlawn High School, an alternative public school in Arlington, that the elitism of the DC scene became most apparent. Playing with DOA, Minor Threat, SOA and Youth Brigade, Scream was met with far more than just apathy from the audience. Most of them simply walked out, much to the dismay of Jello Biafra who had been performing with DOA. He immediately offered the band support and advice, encouraging them to stick to what they believed in.

  Talking to US fanzine Thrill Seeker2 in late 1982, Skeeter Thompson outlined how Biafra had encouraged them. “Yeah, (Biafra) is great, we’ve always been on sort of the same frequency. He was the only person who encouraged us. Because right after that (Woodlawn) show, I didn’t want to play in front of any more DC crowds, because of the way they treated us. We go out there and we’re being serious – I don’t mean totally serious politically, I mean about our music, something that moves us – and they treat it like a joke.” (11)

  With Biafra on side, it wasn’t long before Ian MacKaye also started to take notice of the hardcore newcomers. Despite initial reticence, he became more and more excited by the band’s uncompromising style – ultimately he signed the band to his Dischord label and teamed up with Don Zientara to produce their debut album Still Screaming.

  The resulting twenty song set was recorded in three days during October 1982. The album amply displayed the band’s willingness to adopt diverse sounds while Pete Stahl’s vocals employed melodies that separated the band from the more macho elements of the punk and hardcore scene. Melody was central to their songs, even at their most raucous. The album’s production duo also gave the tracks an added fuzzy sheen, providing them with a punkier sound than they had shown in the live setting.

  Lyrically too, the band stood out from the popular view of the East Coast hardcore set of the time. Quite simply they didn’t obsess on straight edge philosophies and teen punk ideology. They were far more interested in the personal politics of a far wider worldview. This did not prove to be an altogether popular slant. Hardcore fanzine Capitol Punishment declared Scream to be “a bunch of jocks trying to be punk”. Other fanzine writers were especially disappointed with the band’s lack of an obvious political agenda. Of course Scream weren’t alone in this, but they were singled out.

  “People think that just because we’re from DC that we’re straight-edged and they think that we have to bring it up so we’ll talk about it,” the band explained to Flipside in December 1982. “A lot of people think it’s a movement in DC and it’s not. Some kids are into drinking and drugs and some aren’t, that’s all. Too many people make too much of a big deal about Straight Edge.” (12)

  Over the course of the next two years, Scream pushed their sound to ever wider extremes, exploring reggae as much as heavy metal. This Side Up, the band’s self-financed second album, was recorded in two sessions during March and July 1984 and released in 1985.

  In an attempt to push the band’s diversity to its logical extreme, they opted to employ the different sessions as showcases for the seemingly duelling styles which sat at the heart of their hardcore attack: heavy metal and reggae.

  The two sessions were thus spilt in half over each side of the vinyl. The A-Side was produced with Dr Know of Bad Brains. The B-side found Scream employing the services of heavy metal guitar player Robert Lee “Harley” Davidson, from a local covers band, who gave this session a stronger, more beefed up rock sound.

  While the Straight Edge obsessives in DC grew increasingly disenchanted with Scream’s broader styles and influences, this approach succeeded in winning Grohl’s latest band a growing national fan base as well as not inconsiderable support abroad. By the time of their third album, Scream became only the second hardcore band after Bad Brains to take their show to Europe, playing among other places the Bojangles Club in Nottingham, England. This East Midlands city was an important centre for the flourishing British hardcore scene thanks to acts like Heresy, and later Kings of Oblivion, Force Fed and Killing Floor.

  What Scream discovered in Europe was a highly politicised scene with many of their gigs taking place in the punk squats of Holland and Germany. It was an experience that was to stoke a political fire in their bellies. Ironically, in light of their previous localised criticism for being apolitical, they would return to DC with a passionate sense of purpose that far outstripped many of their counterparts.

  The band became far more politically involved, particularly with left-wing politics. However, their approach was far more humanistic than the dogmatic stance of many of their contemporaries – among the many blistering shows they played upon their return was a set for the ‘Concert For a Free Chile’.

  The dawn of 1985 found Scream booked to play with Black Market Baby and Reagan Youth at Georgetown’s Key Theatre. The gig was being staged without the owner’s knowledge or consent and ended in extreme violence. Although rumours of a dead fan proved to be unfounded, at least one person was stabbed and many were injured.

  Violence of this kind was now a permanent feature at harDCore gigs and as a result many venues had closed their doors to the scene. When a show at the popular DC venue Woldon Centre ended in a similar level of violence, it closed its doors for good. It was clear that something had to be done or the DC scene would just implode.

  Among the DC cognoscenti there were a number of people who wanted to shift the scene’s focus away from clannish braggadocio and towards a wider political fight. One of these bands, Positive Force, urged people to instead use their energy to point out wrongs in US congress.

  Positive Force vocalist Guy Picciotto announce
d a Punk Percussion Protest at the South African Embassy to be held in June, 1985. Inspired by an ongoing demonstration at this embassy and anti-capitalism events staged by Crass in the UK, several punks turned up at the Embassy and pounded drums, tin cans, anything that would make a sound. Thereafter, the so-called ‘Punk Percussion Protest’ became a regular activity for Positive Force over the coming years. Indeed during the 1990 Iraq war, a twenty-four-hour anti-war drum vigil outside The Whitehouse caused the then-President Bush to complain to the press, “those damned drums are keeping me up all night.”

  Scream’s third album for Dischord, was suitably titled Banging The Drum, in honour of Positive Force’s percussive protests. This even more diverse album was part recorded in the UK in the summer of 1996 by Southern Studios’ John Loder. However it didn’t get a release until the following year. With sounds ranging from full-blown punk rock to near-blues interludes, from reggae passages to percussive onslaughts, it found Scream developing a musical affinity with bands like Soulside, Beefeater (and much later Fidelity Jones), who embraced an eclectic approach to hardcore. Scream maintained that this musical fusion was a sonic manifestation of their political beliefs.

  Throughout this period Scream became the chosen band for all Positive Force benefits (taking over from previous favourites Beefeater). They also became increasingly involved in gigs for Amnesty International. That said, the main focus of Scream was still their live show and they also continued to tour with unbridled enthusiasm. In Flipside’s spring 1986 issue, they described themselves as road warriors whose need for each other was, according to Skeeter, “an obsession, almost like a drug. It’s more like a habit.” (13)