Diesel X. The Flaming Racers. Porcupine Love. These could have been our band names. We could have been surfers in Tulsa, elephant trainers in Thailand, ants…any number of things. A lot could have gone differently. But somehow, against all odds and logic, we became a group of punk rockers in Chicago, Illinois, making what felt like an atomic love bomb, and we knew it. This was self-actualization in real time: manifestos and stratagems, calls to arms. Zines planted at every Blue Line stop and coffee shop we could find. Frances B. playing trombone and trumpet at the same time. Niko K. shrieking like a newly born pterodactyl, and a whole generation of newly born pterodactyls alongside him, stomping and kicking. Not crying for their mothers, but for youth expression, liberated bodies, dance spaces, rave-ups, and hops.If any of this sounds silly, you are a silly person. But if it sounds like a future you want to be part of, welcome. This compilation is not a reminiscence of the good old days or a document of a time long gone, it is NOW! Please join us. The future is yours and mine.
- Kai Slater