A worthwhile read, with a few caveats.
1) The lede is buried. All he says about punk rock is absolutely true, but "words written" do not equal "merit earned." Here's the one paragraph that balances out everything negative you can say about punk:
Admittedly, punk rock was a club that accepted all the misfits. It channeled adolescent anger and frustration into positive and inclusive feelings of belonging. This is not an insignificant achievement. Punk rock was an island of lost toys, a fantasy world where the kids made the rules and the hateful, hurtful world of drunk dads, preps, jocks, feathered-hair girls in Aerosmith baseball Ts, meathead campus police, racist cowboys, and flat-topped Korean War vets was overturned. It was a wonderful kind of sleep-away camp where the counselors and campers were all the same, huddled around a fire in the basement of an abandoned Catholic school telling ghost stories about the time Rod Stewart had his stomach pumped and imagining a future without “The Man” that looked like Mad Max Beyond Thunderdome.
And there it is: Punk Rock as Devil's Advocate.
This is an article from the lesser (and mocked) of two Seattle alt weeklies. They mention Skootchie's (nee DV8, nee Polly Esther's, nee a million other things) and The Monastery, a club so rife with underage drugs it singlehandedly caused the Teen Dance Ordinance. And see, three of my friends spun as Skootchie's, and four of them spun at The Monastery. It still has a Facebook group with over a thousand members, despite closing 20 years before Facebook. So allow me a little argument from authority: this be my turf.
And what I can tell you is that Punk, worldwide but particularly in Seattle, was a transitional culture. One is not punk for very long - punk is a place you visit on your way to ska, on your way to jam bands, on your way to metal, on your way to goth. It's a very useful conceit with a very short shelf life: one is punk just long enough to doubt and reorganize one's thoughts towards something else. He mentions Siouxsie Sioux. Goth claimed her in 1978, yo. And while I had friends who were into punk in High School, I have friends who were into Goth in high school who are still into goth. I have friends who were into metal in high school who are still into metal. I have friends in high school who were into Industrial who are still into Industrial. My buddy Paul has been spinning six hours of Industrial every Sunday since 1988. That's 25 years. And you damn betcha he started out punk.
I worked in those clubs for seven years, man. 50-90 hours a week. And I never once saw a punk. I mixed The Selector - no punks. Mixed Test Department - no punks. Mixed Pigface: no punks. Fuckin' Martin Atkins bailed on Punk 20 years ago. Every punk you've ever heard can tell you punk is bullshit. Here's a lovely little ditty from Johnny Rotten himself:
Fuckin' string machines and shit, yo.
Yeah, "Punk is Bullshit."
“Punk is flaming dogshit in a bag!”
…and you gotta be some kinda stupid to sit there and watch it burn. The whole point is to run away snickering.
Weird little swipe at the "indie" scene in there, too. I mixed Ben Gibbard's first album. Dude wasn't a poseur by any stretch - he was shrewd. We all watched Sky Cries Mary sign a 10-album deal with Sony and disband after This Timeless Turning. Death Cab didn't sign any deals with anyone - they had an album, they'd sell it to you. And they're millionaires now.
That ain't punk, that's the ethos you get after you try punk on long enough to learn how to say no to the man.