Late '70s NYC Punk Scene скачать в хорошем качестве

Late '70s NYC Punk Scene

I took these photos long ago in New York City, USA in the late '70s. I drew on some with ink. Credit goes to tateworks in NYC for my logo at the very end. I will try to identify the place, year and people here. They were tickled to be photographed and I even printed at least one of these myself. Some of these were in BIKINI GIRL, my second punk zine. It was a bad, bad decade in the USA. A ten-year recession, pretty much. I come from the Rust Belt and there was definitely No Future. Off to NY I went, to be a live-in servant and then, after falling in love with a punk rock singer, to return to Manhattan to have a heartbreaking affair. I went to NYC quite alone with 340 dollars and a red plastic suitcase. I was terrified. You can see Club 57, the Mudd Club and other locales here. I found a room to rent at 111 E. 14th St. for 35 dollars a week and got two jobs -- one at the Strand Bookstore, the other at Carrano, selling shoes. I chose the latter. On a five dollar a day budget, earning about a hundred dollars a week, I was in a broken down, nearly bankrupt city. The Lower East Side often had the sound of constant gunfire. Because I went to live East of First Avenue, no taxis would generally pick me up or drop me off, and few would visit. Heat and hot water were not obligatory in the slums. There was generally no trash pickup and it was heaped on curbs. No mail service, no police, firefighters. Crossing First Avenue, which was dug up in ditches, was on unprotected planks. I'd see blood on the sidewalks and sometimes smell cut up body parts and see junkies with their heads blown off in doorways. The smell was atrocious. Walking to the Lexington Avenue subway mornings, the sights and sounds were nauseating. The ghetto blasters played songs with codes in them, indicating where the heroin was being dealt. The DJs were in collusion. I was malnourished and never knew where my next meal was coming from. I could pay for a 65 cent Spanish lunch counter breakfast of fries, an egg, juice, toast. I could have a hot dog for lunch and a slice of pizza for dinner. I could get a yogurt every Sunday. America had broken down badly and a lot of people were hurting. Below me on 14th Street, gypsies ran a fortune telling racket. I lived in the room rented by Patty Hearst during her longest period of captivity. This is not on public record and that's due to the Zebra Killings. Nico also lived there. On East Tenth Street, a bar had not closed until the 20th c. -- they used to do bear bating there. I heard roosters crowing, chased roaches and was afraid. I had roomies who exploited me and yet managed to go back to college, self-financed. I had a lot of fun and wore pajamas in public, underwear, crucifixes, and black leather a lot. copyright 2013 Lisa B. Falour, B.S., M.B.A. cutecatfaith.com Dailymotion: LisaFalour YouTube: SLOBOMOTION, CUTECATFAITH Watch for more of my writing and artwork in the next FREAK WAVE book, and hear me on TravelAuteurs on YouTube. My appearance on FRANCE CULTURE for Radio France this year can be heard on my Dailymotion channel if you understand French.