The tagline for The Dicks From Texas is ‘the men,
the myth, the music’ – certainly a fitting description for this documentary
film about one of the most outrageous and influential punk bands of all time.
First-time director Cindy Marabito has pulled off
a real coup with this documentary, delivering a film that looks and feels more
like a lovingly curated compilation of family movies than anything else – a
perfect touch for her subjects. Friends, family, and fans tell the Dicks story,
from their Austin, Texas, origins in the late 1970s – a place and a time when concepts
like embracing homosexuality and holding an affinity for communist
revolutionaries like Chairman Mao were not exactly going to win you many friends
in the above-ground world – to their induction into the Austin Music Awards
Hall Of Fame in 2008, and beyond.
Interviews spanning decades – with subjects
including original Dicks (vocalist Gary Floyd, also of Sister Double Happiness; late guitarist Glen Taylor; bassist Buxf Parrott, and drummer Pat Deason),
latter-day Dicks (like drummer Lynn Perko, also of SDH), Texas punk compatriots
(late Big Boys vocalist Randy ‘Biscuit’ Turner; Offenders drummer Pat Doyle; late
Offenders guitarist Tony Johnson; Scratch Acid/The Jesus Lizard frontman David
Yow; Butthole Surfers drummer King Coffey; rawk bad-ass Texas Terri), national
punk admirers (Minor Threat/Fugazi frontman Ian MacKaye; S.O.A./Black Flag
vocalist Henry Rollins; Minutemen/fIREHOSE bassist Mike Watt; Black
Flag/DC3/Misfits guitarist/vocalist Dez Cadena), and an amazing array of
friends and family – are cut with live footage and hundreds of vintage photos
to tell the tale of how a ‘poster band’ that didn’t actually exist not only
came to life, but actually went on to influence 4 decades (and counting) of
punks, activists, and oddballs.
The biggest thrill in this package, for me, is the
bonus live footage: 7 songs captured by Target Video mastermind Joe Rees at San
Francisco’s On Broadway in 1982 and 5 more filmed by Vicki Sprague at the
Akron, Ohio, stop on 1983’s Rock Against Reagan tour.
Others: We Jam Econo, The Decline of Western Civilization Parts I and III, Another State of Mind
On a certain level, it would be easy to say that punk rock as a
concept in 2016 is irredeemably stupid and retrograde (and let’s face
it, you probably could have said the same in 1977), but to be fair, the
important service it provides as a hate vaccination for stammering
misfit youth has yet to be properly supplanted (maybe someone could get
Martin Shkreli working on that?). Besides, one must concede that punk —
in its pure, non-poseur state, anyway — has also been an extremely
important signifier for freakoids searching for their place in the
world, a fact which goes a long way towards explaining why it holds a
special place in the hearts and minds of so many otherwise-reasonable
adults.
In Cindy Marabito’s new documentary The Dicks From Texas,
we get to see that special power in full and brilliant display: it is a
film which, though ostensibly about a band, is primarily a document of
the myriad oddballs which were drawn into that band’s drunken, radical
orbit during Reagan’s Morning in America.
The Dicks were, and remain, Austin’s greatest punk band (unless
you’re a skater, in which case it
might be their peers the Big Boys, or
if you’re one of those moldy figs who use “punk” as a synonym for “1960s
garage,” in which case it’s the 13th Floor Elevators… but y’all knew
that). In a time when it was still weird and dangerous to even be a new
wave band in Texas, this self-identifying “commie fag” hardcore band,
fronted by “fat queer” Gary Floyd (who frequently took the stage in loud
vintage dresses and bits of Maoist regalia), were basically asking to
get the shit kicked out of them.
Lucky for them, then, that they were
also the scariest bunch of motherfuckers in town, a sloppy, ugly band
who made little conceit to either cautious tastes or conservative mores.
That fearlessness, along with Floyd’s
Divine-meets-Chris-Farley-meets-bear stage presence and the band’s
trainwreck energy, endeared them to the nascent Austin freak scene while
also making an indelible impression upon touring heavy-hitters like
Black Flag, Minutemen, and Minor Threat (it wouldn’t be an 80s punk doc
without a couple words from Rollins, Watt and MacKaye… where are
Thurston and Jello, I wonder?).
MacKaye recalls the band as genuinely
intimidating, having been told before coming to Texas that The Dicks
“were run out of Austin because they were wanted on charges of
terrorism.” Whether that anecdote is partial truth or gleeful
mythmaking, its believability is telling.
A slick and artful documentary would hardly be the appropriate document for such notorious gnarlers, and The Dicks From Texas
is not that. No-fi and personal, the film stumbles hazily down memory
lane, interviewing its subjects in shitty bars and sprawled out on beds,
laughing about old pals and relating disjointed anecdotes for which
most viewers will have little context. This makes it a far cry, in both
construction and cohesion, from the likes of The Filth and the Fury or even We Jam Econo, but frankly, I couldn’t imagine the story told any other way. How could a Texas punk doc NOT be this folksy and weird?
The Dicks From Texas probably isn’t an ideal entry point
for the casually curious, and I would be hard put to call it a great
film. It is, however, honest and passionate as fuck; any dirty dog who’s
ever blasted “Dicks Hate the Police”
on a shitty stereo in a shitty apartment will get everything they need
out of it, plus a desire to hug the cuddly Gary Floyd of today as a
bonus treat. If you want anything more than that, you’re probably a
poseur anyway.
Screens as part of Sound Unseen in the Twin Cities on February 10th, 2016.
Texas punk legend was among the first hardcore bands with openly gay singer
The Dicks was a trailblazing punk band thanks to classics like
“Dicks Hate the Police” and “Rich Daddy,” sung by Gary Floyd, one of
the first openly gay hardcore punk vocalists.
Courtesy
Posted
Rich Tupica
On Halloween 2016, The Dicks played its final show
at Grizzly Hall in Austin, Texas—the city that birthed the trailblazing
hardcore punk band. This last hurrah came 36 years after the raucous
band’s formation in 1980—the onset of the Reagan era.
Through it all, singer Gary Floyd, the band’s openly gay
singer, wasn’t afraid to loudly ruffle conservative feathers with
Marxist lyrics and now-classic punk tracks like “Dicks Hate the Police,”
an anti-cop anthem famously covered by Mudhoney.
During its earliest years, The Dicks was a fixture at
Raul’s, an Austin dive bar that attracted local freaks, scenesters,
punks and artists. At the band’s genesis, Floyd was a 26-year-old
transplant from Palestine, Texas. Growing up in the 1960s, during the
Vietnam War, he was a conscientious objector. As the years rolled on, he
never stopped vocally questioning the system.
As the ’70s wound down, Floyd became enamored with punk
rock, then a new genre. He created a fake band called “The Dicks” and
would draw up faux flyers promoting non-existent shows and post them
across Austin. It was a fictional band, with phony gigs, that would soon
be real after he threw together a makeshift band of likeminded friends,
including Buxf Parrott (bass), Pat Deason (drums) and Glen Taylor
(guitar). The outcome? Fast, loud and gritty tunes that infused classic
punk with blasts of hardcore, blues and some free-form ranting.
The outfit officially debuted a couple weeks of after its
first rehearsal at the 1980 “Punk Rock Prom” at Armadillo World
Headquarters, a large-capacity Austin venue. Of course, with the flashy
showman Floyd at the helm, The Dicks immediately turned heads.
“Right off the bat, we were going to be different than
your regular punk band,” Floyd told KQED, an NPR affiliate, in 2016. “We
also said we were communists, we were drag queens ... we were twisting
some heads, for sure.”
By 1983, The Dicks became a San Francisco band after Floyd
relocated to California. That same year, “Kill from the Heart,” the
band’s blistering debut full-length LP released via SST Records — also
home to Black Flag, the Minutemen, Sonic Youth, the Meat Puppets, Hüsker
Dü, and a roster of other now-iconic outfits. Though, there is no doubt
that Floyd put the most thought into his on-stage looks. Think Divine
meets Iggy Pop.
“I figured my reputation would be safe no matter what I
did,” Floyd also told KQED reporter Kevin L. Jones. “It was always fun. I
was always pretty adventurous with coming up with ways to look
shocking, and shoving liver in my panties to throw on people, though I’d
use vegan liver now.”
By 1986, the first era of The Dicks ended, though the
group went through some starts and stops. Floyd also performed with
other acts, like Sister Double Happiness and Black Kali Ma. Then, from
2004 the band reunited for more gigs.
In July 2020, during the band’s 40th anniversary, the
COVID-19 pandemic fizzled a reunion show set for Austin. To date, no
future show has been announced. Still, even with no further shows, The
Dicks has no doubt carved out its groundbreaking place in punk rock
history.
“I think things needed to be said and this was a time of
punk rock [when] people were easily shocked and I took advantage of
that, I loved that,” Floyd recalled to reporter Luiz Mazetto of CVLT
Nation in July 2020, during the final months of the Trump presidency.
“We did some things that were pretty cool. The songs were sort of in
your face. And the politics were left, very left, obviously. I’ve always
been happy that we did all that. I think we did it and stopped at the
right time. I still do political stuff and I still do some of those
songs, when we play live. But I don’t feel the world stopped because we
broke up. We still did it afterwards. Like once every year or two, we
would do a show. Everything happens in the right time, I guess. Except
for Trump (laughs).”
For those looking to catch up on the history of the band,
“The Dicks from Texas,” a feature-length documentary, was released in
2016. The film, directed and produced by Cindy Marabito, features
interviews with high-profile fans like Henry Rollins, Ian MacKaye, Mike
Watt, Texas Terri, and David Yow, among others.
Gary
Floyd would go around town in Austin, Texas putting up posters
advertising 'The Dicks' with crazy ass pictures and promises that first
10 people with guns drink for free. It was a wild and crazy time in
Austin, back when 'keeping Austin weird' got you thrown in jail.
Gary
was a flamboyant outwardly gay personality with a voice that still
rivals the hardest heaviest bluesiest singers from Texas or anywhere
else. He ran into Buxf Parrot and Glen Taylor at Raul's Bar on Guadalupe
and the Dicks became a reality. Pat Deason joined the band just in time
for the legendary first live performance at the Armadillo World
Headquarters.
The Dicks were together for nearly four years and put out
'Dicks Hate the Police" 45 and two albums, "Live at Raul's" and "Kill
From the Heart" which have lived on for coming up on four decades,
inspiring other musicians and fans with songs like "Bourgeois Fascist
Pig," "Dead in a Motel Room," and "Dicks Hate the Police."
The Dicks
never sold out, never budged one fraction from their militant principles
at the cost of no big record deals and acclaim. What they got in return
was the respect of longtime hardcore followers who still turn out at
the rare live reunion shows where the Dicks still deliver.
Austin, Texas hardcore punk legends The Dicks were around in the early/mid '80s with releases on SST and Alternative Tentacles, and they've been reunited since 2004. This week (Friday, 2/12), a new documentary about them called The Dicks From Texas will hit the streets.
Before it's out, we're premiering a clip from the film that includes Henry Rollins and Ian MacKaye giving the band high praise and a short live clip. Henry talks about their Live at Raul's Club
split with The Big Boys getting heavy rotation at the SST offices, and
Ian discusses a show Minor Threat played with The Dicks opening.
Watch the clip, and the trailer and intro, below...
List of Great Texas Music Documentaries Adds One More
THE DICKS FROM TEXAS (2015) Mike Watt, Henry
Rollins, Austin scenesters and loads of unreleased footage help narrate
the loud-as-fuck legend of one of the most provocative and pure fun punk
bands Texas ever produced.
Trekking the stories of one of the most
underrated yet influential punk rock bands that became the harbinger for
the hardcore and more notably, the queercore movement throughout the
1980s, The Dicks From Texas cites the band that made a splash in
their hometown of Austin, TX and sent the waves crashing down on the
dawn of hardcore punk. This 70 minute feature documentary provides an
intimate insight into the weird, crude, and alienated legacy that was
one of Texas’ first big punk bands—before Dave Dictor penned his first lyrics of slandering cops, and before Randy “Biscuit” Turner
slipped on the infamous ballerina tutu with cowboy boots, the Dicks
were redefining what it meant to be a misfit in an already rebellious
subculture.
The Dicks was the brainchild of lead singer Gary Floyd who “started” the band after seeing the Sex Pistols
in San Francisco and told everyone he had a band under that moniker. In
Austin, the Dicks gained popularity as a “poster band” in which fliers
were made for fake shows for non-existent bands to play. The Dicks,
however, became a reality when Floyd teamed up with bassist Buxf Parrott, guitarist Glen Taylor, and drummer Pat Deason making their debut performance on May 16, 1980 at the Punk Prom with fellow Austin punks Big Boys.
Floyd’s outwardly gay and flamboyant personality was reflected in his
stage presence in which he’d sport the tackiest, ugliest, thrift shop
dresses, plus-size pantyhose, and intentionally whorish makeup with a
purple mohawk to round it out that would make anybody of a sound mind
gape in awe. The idea, of course, was to play some of the loudest,
fastest, and scariest music and have the lead vocalist look so bizarre
and so outlandish that it would just emphasize that nobody could fuck
with them—they were challenging a lot of political, social, and sexual
conventions through their performances. Ian MacKaye put it best, “They were a force to be reckoned with.”
The Dicks stayed as an active band for
four consecutive years before ultimately disbanding in 1986. Their
discography, consisting of a 7” entitled The Dicks Hate the Police and two albums— Live at Raul’s, their split live album they did with Big Boys and Kill From the Heart,which
all became inspirations for punk’s most important era. The Dicks were
instrumental in shaping not only the sound of hardcore, but also the
attitude—the fact that you can have an even more intimidating presence
when your dressed in drag and screaming songs like “Bourgeois Fascist
Pig” and “Dead In a Motel Room.”
Being comfortable with yourself and not
conforming in such a way that you stick out like a sore thumb are what
the Dicks lived by back then and still hold true in their views today.
The Dicks From Texas pays tribute
in the best way possible to a band like these guys—it’s raw, unpolished,
and choppy in some places, the lighting and audio isn’t perfect, the
live footage is all bootlegged, and you definitely get the feeling that
it went through a single editing process in someone’s basement. But, you
know what? That’s punk rock! And that was the Dicks! In my opinion, the
style of this documentary correlates well with the Dicks and their DIY
aesthetics, which is the way it should be. –Eric U. Norris
Bands less-subtly named after body
parts arose in the late ‘70s. The first I knew of was the Tits (from Rhode
Island, I believe), an art rock performance duo that I saw at Max’s Kansas City.
This was followed by the Clits (saw them at Irving Plaza), the Cunts, the
Kuntz, and arguably, the Dickies. Likewise, Queercore has its forerunners to
the Dicks, such as Lance Loud and the Mumps, the Student Teachers, and again
arguably, the Speedies (who were definitely more pop, but had a punk edge). But
the Dicks were a whole ‘nother ball of leather.
At a time when Texas was possibly
even more rigid than it is now (including Austin), the ‘80s spawned a number of
scenes around the State that would change and charge up some of the less
countrified young’ns, if not the old guard (or most of the rural countryside,
as their voting direction indicates). The Dicks were in the front line of that
change, fronted by the self-proclaimed out of the closet and overweight Maoist,
Gary Floyd. The rest of the band kind of formed around him, from 1980 through
1983, and then again in 2004.
This doc is, on one hand, your basic
history of the nascent scene (basically Southern Rock), how the Dicks formed,
and then how an almost new scene emerged
around the band. Most of the talking head interviews are from the Dicks, the
other bands on the scene such as the Torn Panties, Sister Double Happiness and
especially the band-members-in-arms, the Big Boys (no mention that I noticed of
MDC), and from other regular members of the audience (including the film’s director),
many of whom went on to their own fame as writers, photographers and artists.
Then, of course, there are the big name
cameos that all punk/hardcore docs must have these days, in this case the
nearly omni-documentary-presence of Ian MacKaye (of Minor Threat, Fugazi, etc.),
Henry Rollins (Black Flag) and Mike Watt (Minutemen, fIREHOSE, etc.). Making a
rare appearance is Texas Terri, who is an interesting person in her own right.
But I digress…
But then, on the other hand, this
comes across more like an Oral History, which improves the narrative a bit.
Rather than single set-ups where the person tells his story and then has it
sewn into the fabric of the story, the main players are shown in various
locations, and also with others, who spurn on stories that would probably not
have been inspired if they were by themselves (such as Floyd bringing his
mother to… well, you’ll have to see it). Amusingly, for example, three members
of the aforementioned Torn Panties are laying (dressed, but under the covers)
in a twin-sided bed that is too small for all of them, or others are sitting in
bars, at home, etc.
Laced into the history are tons of
still photos and videos (b-roll type) of the Little Mexico area (the Bowery of
Austin, apparently) both then and now, including of many of the people in the
video. The documentary, though, is actually broken into two pieces, which is
appropriate because the Dicks had more than one life. After moving to San Fran,
the band went on tour, and when they played their home turf at the end of it,
the band stayed and Floyd went back to SF.
Following that segment and a brief
“In Memorium” not just for Glen Taylor, the guitarist from the Dicks who
passed, but also members of the scene, the band reformed on a lark in 2004, and
is still playing. It picks up Phase 2 at 55 minutes or so, and continues on. At
70 minutes, the film is the perfect length to keep the audience both informed
and interested.
There are some fun outtakes during
the credits, and the only extra is actually quite a special one, namely two
live shows from 1982 and 1983, when the band was in its prime and with the
original line-up. Considering it was obviously VHS tape masters, the first is
pretty clear in both sound and visual. The second has a bit more noise and fuzz
in the sound, but still helps give a better picture of why the Dicks had its
cult following.
One of the differences between this
and most of the other band/scene combo documentaries is that this does not
discuss the end of the scene, its main focus at the end is the band. This was a
nicely done film.
The great American hardcore explosion came at just
the right moment for a generation of misfits, freaks, and weirdos;
people who for whatever reason just couldn’t fit into normal life or
even into the existing youth cultures.
Austin, Texas hardcore band the Dicks was a prime
example of this. Fronted by Gary Floyd, an oversized openly gay man in
the middle of Texas who was likely to dress in drag, a nurse uniform or a
Klan outfit, the Dicks would have had their place in punk history
cemented by the release of The Dicks Hate the Police, a bluesy howl of a song using black humor to make a point against police harassment, and a true American punk classic.
The Dicks from Texas, is the latest
documentary delving into a slice of punk history unknown by many casual
fans, and strives to show the influence and importance of both the Dicks
and the early ’80s Austin punk scene.
Floyd saw both the Ramones and Sex Pistols in Texas
and was so inspired he started telling friends he was in a band called
the Dicks. The band existed in Floyd’s mind and a series of posters
until springing into existence with founding members Buxf Parrott, Pat
Deason and Glen Taylor. Self-described “stars with sweaty armpits,” the
Dicks formed friendships with fellow Texas punks the Big Boys and MDC,
toured the country, released two albums as well as the groundbreaking
debut 7″ and built up a fan base in Austin that felt more like a family a
like-minded weirdos than a usual band-fan dynamic.
Amateurish in the best way, the film captures
subjects speaking directly to the people behind the camera with asides
like “… y’all were at that party,” which adds to the documentary’s
homemade charm. Along with surviving band members including a bearded,
genial Floyd, the documentary features punk documentary mainstays Ian
MacKaye and Henry Rollins, as well as a large number of female
interviewees, which is a surprisingly nice change from the usual
male-centric documentary subjects. Utilizing old photographs and
previously unseen performance footage The Dicks from Texas is as
much a love letter to friends and family of the Austin punk scene as it
is to the band and is recommended to fans of punk history and groups of
freaks and misfits sticking together to form a community in the midst of
indifference or outright hatred.
A bit of a treat for us 80s USHC fans given the relative scarcity of Dicks material available.
If you’re not familiar with them, The Dicks were an Austin band
fronted by the openly gay, cross dressing communist Gary Floyd.
Musically, although part of the nascent Austin punk scene, the band were
quite experimental, particularly guitarist Glen Taylor whose mixture of
punk, jazz and funk helped shape the future sound of bands like Scratch
Acid, and vocalist Floyd who brought a soulful, blues-iness to the
proceedings.
The ‘Dicks from Texas’ follows the now well-trodden path of
talking head interviews interspaced with live footage and flyers,
particularly from the Dicks early period when they were only a Poster Band (a band that existed on flyers posted as a practical joke and something of an Austin tradition).
Featuring mainly interviews with the band’s members and friends, with
the odd peer perspective (Ian MacKaye, Henry Rollins, Randy ‘Biscuit’
Turner) the interviews run more like friendly recollections of the
late 70s/early 80s Austin scene, giving this documentary the same kinda
vibe that Texas HC scene seems to have comprised of back in the day, a
consensus of supportive outcasts who hung together making art, music and
social statements.
Giving Floyd’s aggressive stage delivery it came as a surprise to
find him speak in such gentle, lisping tones and at times, between my
increasing deafness, the thick Texan accents and the low quality of the
voice recording it was difficult to make out everything he was saying
(an issue which occurred with other interviewees too).
The film celebrates the Dicks not so much from a musical perspective
(although both Rollins and MacKaye attest to the bands musical chops),
but from a social perspective; the band acting as the glue between the
hippies, gays, punks, drunks and drug users that made up the Austin
scene in the early 80s.
As a final note it’s worth pointing out
that the live footage is a real treat and worth the price of picking up
this DVD alone. Ian Pickens
