Something Old, Something New
Interview With Pogo Brats
Los Angeles
From Issue 1.3, January/February 2005
One glance at the members of the Pogo Brats has one thinking they are trying really hard to get the whole punk image down with precision. They have the studded jackets, the patches of their favorite bands (Total Chaos, The Casualties and The Descendents) and that quiet demeanor that would have one wondering what it is they are thinking about. Put the two members (who chose to sit for the interview) slouched in foldable chairs at a damp, wooden table in front of Monterey Park’s Trash City Records on a rainy, late Saturday afternoon, and the typical passer-by might fall victim to a number of assumptions about these two.
We’re not trying to show people we’re punks,” said bassist George in defense of how he dresses. “It’s just how we express ourselves-the way we want to.”
“Fasion punks think it’s just the way you dress,” said vocalist and guitarist Ron. His statement further explained there is more to why he dresses the way he does and further explained the complexities of a “scene” caught between a tough, anti-establishment image and an ironic individuality that means dressing practically homogenous.
“Some punks call us poseurs,” added George.
“Yeah, because we don’t have the tight pants,” said Ron.
Minus the pants, they have that angry, ‘I hate the government and its stupid laws’ bit down to perfection-in their music. The Brats sing about a wide range of topics-each song somehow coming across as more pissed off than the next. Take the song, “Drunk Pogo Punx” that essentially proposes getting wasted in public just to test people, or the song “Nazi Scum” that shoots the bird at people who embrace Nazism, and there is a dual message one gets about the Pogo Brats.
While their music advocates total disorder to the tune of thrash, oi, crust or pogo beats, the individuals behind the music, are not as mean, or angry as their lyrics would lead some to think.
“We don’t really care what people think about the lyrics. Like my mom will ask, ‘oh, why do you write that?’ We just want to express ourselves like that. We don’t really mind [if people think they are angry], because they still stare at us like we’re going to hurt them, like were convicts or something,” said George staring across the street. “They judge us by our cover, so we might as well write that way.”
His statement reeks of nihilism, but then again, maybe that’s just reality in a world where first impressions do mean everything and falling in line is considered normal.
“The police are always staring at us. They’re always pointing us out. Instead of trying to solve a crime, they’ll waste their time on a punk,” George added. “There are some punks out there who give us a bad reputation; they do stupid things, but every person has their own way of acting. So, why single us out?”
The question “why” is a bit ironic, because common sense would seem to dictate that they are asking for it by alienating themselves. This is the sort of conclusion made by the average person too lazy to ask questions. While George may be part of a band some may find insulting or juvenile, he also spends a lot of time writing poetry and actually won an Editor’s Choice award online for his work proving there are always two sides to everything. While some may coin his band’s music as “ugly,” they might find his poetry more acceptable.
Place the Pogo Brats into the context of their surrounding environment, and their music is all relative. Thus, to automatically assume, they are just another bunch of street youth advocating reckless behavior to the extreme, is dangerous.
Their raw, frayed-at-the-ends sort of music is part of an enduring music scene in South Central Los Angeles-a style and attitude of music made by several dozens of local, do-it-yourself bands that have created a semi-insulated community for themselves, because it is safe.
They support each other. However, the Pogo Brats have ventured out into other communities such as Montclair.
“It [the venue] was alright. We were the only street punk band there,” said Ron. However, according to the two, the crowd seemed to like their music perhaps foretelling the Pogo Brats may be successful outside the comfortable niche of the South Central scene.
The band evolved out of the remnants of local disbanded groups such as Nokturnal Pills, in 2003. The group also includes Puffy (vocals), Chris (drums), Damian (guitar) and Aldo (guitar) who were missing in action for the interview.
They practice regularly (Fridays and Saturdays) in the home of Ron’s parents or occasionally in a studio. When they do not get a chance to practice together, they can usually be found practicing at home.
According to George and Ron, the group used to joke around during practices, but that all changed when Ron threatened to quit the band.
So, they got serious (while still having fun), and they have been consistently playing shows throughout South Central in backyards trying to build up a following.
The Pogo Brats have plans to record an album. Their first attempt failed when they had the recording date scheduled, but did not get the address of the studio, which George and Ron smiled about. Now, they are trying to get a deal with some friends, who also play in a local band.
The Pogo Brat’s relative youth, may unwind to work for and against them. Their age affords them the opportunity for growth and maturity-musically speaking. However, their age also affords them the elasticity to come off in the rage they pull off so well.
The question now is, will they ever grow out of that anti-establishment mentality?
“I don’t think so,” said George. “Punk’s never going to die. I will stick to it. I’m not going to change for anyone.”-and why should he?
The band’s music is the result of whatever emotion they are feeling at the time: anger, guilt, happiness. It would be stupid to assume their music is who they are (angry and rebellious). Equally stupid, would be to continue discussing the logistics of something that need not be overly dissected.
Through George and Ron, the Pogo Brats exercise conviction and an interesting duality between talented poets or musicians and social misfits.