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From
Orange County to Santa Cruz, a punk rock
tale
Matt
Logan
I
put my key in the ignition and my little
car came to life. My buddy Rob and I left
Orange County early in the morning of Sept.
28, 2001, and drove into punk rock history.
It was a nine-hour drive full of anticipation
that brought us to the warm, friendly town
of Chico, California. The streets surrounding
Cal State Chico were filled with a refreshing
breeze of diversity, which is a contrast
to the social- and consumer-driven ills
of the South O.C.
No Motiv played the opening set. The pit
had a good friendly/fierce feel to it; when
one of us fell, there were two guys to pick
‘em up, and it is that kind of camaraderie
I have come to expect at a Face to Face
show.
At one point in the pit I fell, got smacked
in the jaw and received a major sprain that
wouldn’t allow me to close my mouth
more then halfway. It was an annoyingly
painful sprain but nothing was broken and
there was no blood. So back to the pit I
went, pain and all.
I still sang the words and yelled until
my voice caved in.
Their set was over at about 10:30 p.m.,
after about an hour and a half set and encore.
We started walking back to my car when we
found the band, Face to Face. Trever Keith
(lead guitar and vocals), Scott Shiflett
(bass guitar and back up vocals) and Pete
Prada (drums) were hanging out and talking
to a few people, so we stopped to see what
was up.
Shiflett remembered us from a San Diego
show at Cain’s Bar and Grill earlier
that year in March when we talked to’‘em
after the show. They loaded their stuff
into the Vagrant Records van as we continued
our conversations...when they had finished,
Keith said, “We are really hungry
... haven’t eaten anything since 1
p.m.,” Keith got another tattoo that
night before the show, and we drove from
the O.C., so everybody was hungry. Keith
continued, “We’re gonna go get
some food at this Pizza place in walking
distance, wanna come?”
The pizza was average, but the company was
choice; those guys are just good people.
They talked about how they made a lot of
mistakes in their set and how they were
kind of rusty and weren’t expecting
these two shows that their promoter just
threw together at the last minute.
I spoke a bit to Keith about his family
and watched, as before my eyes, a band I’d
listened to on my stereo became friends.
Later that night we walked around the corner
with ‘em and checked out a bar for
a while and that’s when our need for
sleep hit us. So Rob and I went back to
my little Mazda Protege, pulled up on some
random residential street, and as soon as
our eyes closed it was the next morning.
Crisp rays of sunlight beamed through my
windshield as I awoke to foggy windows and
a steering wheel. We hit the road again,
for only five hours this time on our way
to Santa Cruz. Got a hotel room, showered
and slept, then out on the streets for some
food and a walk. Santa Cruz is a sweet place
that is even more diverse than Chico, bit
of a hippie town and all around laid back.
As we were walking down the street we bumped
into Shiflett and Keith. We walked with
them to The Catalyst, where we hung out
with them backstage. We just chilled there
for two hours and talked about ex-girlfriends,
what married life is like for Keith and
Shiflett, about their music and how people
reacted to their Ignorance is Bliss record
and tour, tattoos and just about everything
else.
It was almost time for Face to Face to take
the stage. The band was taking care of their
last-minute warm-up routine. Prada was drumming
on the ground sitting Indian style, looking
like one of those evil robotic monkeys,
Shiflett was slapping his bass as Keith
waited for the green light to take the stage.
When the stage call came, we watched as
they walked through the doors and disappeared
into a room of screaming fans. They opened
up their set as punk rock mayhem took over.
People were flying through the pit and stage
diving.
I got up on stage during a song called “Pastel.”
During a pause in the song, Keith said,
pointing to me, “I have no idea who
this guy is, we were drinking a few beers
back stage before the show…um…no
wait, they were Red Bulls.” Rob made
his way up too and we both sang the last
half of the song with Keith like a few swashbuckling
punk rockers. After the song was over we
dove back into the pit.
Finally they played “You’ve
done nothing,” one of my favorites,
I was able to make it up on stage. Security
didn’t get me off the stage right
away, so I started singing with Shiflett
and he turned his microphone to me and wanted
me to sing his part.
There I stood, on stage again, singing one
of my favorite songs and with one of the
most talented punk bands I’ve ever
seen.
When the show ended they only waited for
a few seconds before they came back out
for their encore.
They played three more songs and the show
was over. Rob and I hung out for a while
and talked with the guys from No Motiv,
The Lonely Kings and Face to Face.
I am forever changed because of the music
that flows from the amazing band, Face to
Face. Their sound is real, their style unique
and the lyrics are filled with pure inspiration.
Punk rock finds its roots in many different
places.
It is rough and it is raw. However, as Keith
put it, “Punk doesn’t need to
be perfect, it’s every man’s
music.”
Matt Logan is a senior print journalism
major at CSULB.
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