Travel? Unravel!

Not getting far with the Nihilistics...

Stumbling across the above flyer–posted by Dave Scott of Adrenalin O.D. in the Facebook group NEW JERSEY HARDCORE (1980-1986)–on yesterday’s 42nd anniversary of an early Nihilistics gig I’d utterly forgotten, I began wondering if this July 15, 1982 benefit (for the late Paul Decolator’s beer fund, apparently) at Aldo’s Hideaway (Lyndhurst, NJ) represents my first trip to the Garden State sans family. My mother had relatives in Englishtown, NJ and we’d visit once or twice a year to eat and drink in their backyard, raising our voices to be heard above the screaming funny cars and dragsters hurtling down the quarter-mile at nearby Raceway Park. We also managed to spend a glorious day or two at Palisades Park (I have distinct memories of riding a tall Ferris wheel high above the Hudson) but I had no reason to travel to Jersey alone, even after procuring a driver’s license and car.

Flash forward to the early 1980s. The Nihilistics begin playing out in Manhattan, becoming friendly with Adrenalin O.D. and other NJ bands, who invite us to join them on bills in Lyndhurst and–later–Hoboken, Harrison and Dover. No Nihilistic owns a van or vehicle large enough to accommodate the four of us and our gear, so we take two vehicles. Mike’s small yellow Mercury Capri won’t do, so the two of us pile into whatever cheap Mopar I own, our amps and guitars in the trunk. Ron heads east from Merrick in his Kojak-esque Buick to retrieve Troy and his drums (later, when Ron and Mike become thick as thieves, I’d be the one toting Troy and his kit). But, as opposed to many of our contemporaries, Nihilistics never make it far from our Lindenhurst epicenter. There’s a dimly-recalled show up in Massachusetts and–according to another flyer found online today–down in Philadelphia…

When asked why Nihilistics never piled in a van to play other hardcore-friendly cities in the Midwest, down south or out in California, my stock line is “We would’ve killed each other.” It’s mostly true. I can’t imagine traveling cross country in tight quarters with Ron, Mike and Troy and coming home in one piece. But the four of us were also far too blue-collar to quit our jobs and tour. Not doing so remains a huge regret, especially after reading band-on-the-run accounts from the likes of Henry Rollins and the aforementioned Dave Scott. Yes, the reality each document seems miles away from anything resembling a good time… but I would’ve killed to have those experiences and stories to tell.

If you’re young and in a band, get in the van. You can always find another job.