By
Steven DiLodovico
In the late 1970s American subculture introduced
a new kind of sonic rebellion that came to
be known as Punk Rock. It started with the
Ramones and continued through bands like the
Misfits, the Cramps and about a hundred other
highly influential bands whose histories have
been covered and documented from beginning
to end. This isn’t about Punk Rock;
this is about Hardcore.
Hardcore music has been around for a long
time. Its history is kind of muddled, its
origins are murky and, depending on whom you
ask, the credit for its advent as a style
of music and a scene is widely spread among
a large cast of innovators. General consensus
seems to agree that Hardcore emerged from
the ashes of the original Punk Rock movement.
Its earliest progenitors are landmark names
in the historic annals of independent music;
Black Flag, Minor Threat, Bad Brains, Suicidal
Tendencies (before they went Metal), the Dead
Kennedys, SSD, Agnostic Front, et al. These
were groups who straddled the blurred lines
of what was conventionally known as “Punk
Rock” and then later re-classified as
“Hardcore Punk.” For the uninitiated,
the distinction between “Hardcore Punk”
and just plain-old “Hardcore”
can be confusing and minimal. But there is
a huge difference. While “Hardcore Punk”
might punch you in the face; “Hardcore”
would beat you down, take your flight jacket
and steal your Doc Martens. Now, if you want
all the details on the beginning go watch
American Hardcore or read Banned in DC, they
covered it pretty well. This is more about
the aftermath of that original explosion;
about the kids who took the very best elements
of Hardcore: independence, passion and enthusiasm,
and infused an already vibrant scene with
positivity and consciousness.
After the Southern California scene imploded
in riotous violence and over-inflamed egos
and most of the great DC bands had broken
up and reformed into new, Emo-heavy outfits,
it was time for New York to take over and
put itself back on the map. Hardcore took
a long look at itself and realized that, in
order to survive, it needed a total revolution
of values. There was a new and hungry regime
of bands ready to take up the cause. Tattooed,
angry kids who lived in squats and fought
for every inch of space they could grab brought
Hardcore into the gritty streets of Manhattan’s
Lower East Side. The music beefed up, got
burly, and stood up. And as the scene was
getting ready to write its latest historical
chapter, the next generation of kids took
what they had learned from the past and began
applying it to their present. New fanzines
and labels sprouted; again following in the
footsteps of such hallowed names as Dischord,
SST, Dangerhouse, and Maximumrocknroll. Eventually
the term “Hardcore Punk” became
simply “Hardcore” and a movement
was born. If you need an instant example of
Hardcore in the late 80s listen to “Break
Down the Walls” by Youth of Today, “Sick
People” by Breakdown, “True ‘Til
Death” by Chain of Strength; “Back
to Back” by Underdog or “New Direction”
by Gorilla Biscuits. These are five songs
(out of hundreds of possibilities) that perfectly
illustrate the sound, lyrics, and attitude
of the scene.
Jordan Cooper, the man behind the
label
There are many people who stand out from
this era because of their DIY ethics and commitment
to a scene that had been reconstructed on
foundations of tolerance, respect and integrity.
From bands to activists; from show promoters
to kids who had floor-space for a traveling
band to sleep on, there is no shortage of
people who gave tirelessly to keep this scene
alive. These are the same people responsible
for Hardcore’s place in history. One
such pioneer who is frequently acknowledged
as the purveyor of the best Straight Edge
Hardcore to come primarily out of the late-80s/early-90s
New York scene is a quiet, unassuming guy
named Jordan Cooper. Cooper was one of many
kids who fell into this scene and found a
home in it. He and his original partner (Hardcore
legend and Youth of Today/Shelter founder
Ray “Raghunath” Cappo) started
with nothing but a desire to put out a record
by some friends who, at the time, were carrying
the banner of the Youth Crew movement.
“I met Ray in High school; in English
class,” says the easy-going Cooper from
the Revelation offices in Huntington Beach,
California. “He recruited me. I had
just moved to the area (new Haven CT) and
my friends from New York were into Hardcore
and Punk and I was more into Pink Floyd, Metal,
and stuff like that. I didn’t like the
Punk I had heard up to that point because
it was always sort of presented as ‘listen
to how funny this is, or how crazy this is,’
playing me stuff like (Black Flag’s)
“T.V. Party” or one of the funnier
Dead Kennedy’s songs. I liked what I
thought was more serious music. Ray was talking
one day in class about Hardcore and I told
him about the stuff that I liked. He made
some tapes for me of bands he thought I would
like and he basically recruited me into Hardcore.
It was kind of a two-fold thing; there was
the music I was getting exposed to from the
tapes he gave me and then going to the Anthrax
(one of the most well-known Punk clubs of
the era) and the other clubs, which gave me
something to do in a place where I didn’t
really know anyone. I’m really grateful
that Ray got me into Hardcore when he did
because I got to see a lot of really great
bands in the early 80s, before Revelation
existed, and that was what got me interested
enough to do a label.”
Connecticut was the launching ground for
all this activity; its close proximity to
New York City made it an easy target for the
influences of a burgeoning Hardcore scene
that was beginning to make some serious noise
in the first few years of the 80s. The proliferation
of all-ages shows and Sunday matinees made
the scene all-inclusive to anyone who wanted
to join.
Ray Cappo, photo by Shawn Scallen
“There was a lot of overlapping because
the Anthrax was sort of near the New York
and Connecticut border. Kids from Putnam County
and Westchester County would go to the Anthrax.
I got to become friends again with my New
York friends by going there. People like Porcell
(Youth of Today, Shelter, and Judge) went
to the Anthrax and everybody went to CB’s,
Rock Hotel, the Pyramid, and some of the bigger
clubs, so people all knew each other. Ray
had been in Violent Children and had a lot
of friends in New York. Basically all the
connections came from Ray. He knew people
from New York, New Jersey, and all over. Ray
was really the guy with the vision in the
beginning. I just handled logistics. The bands
that I picked for the label were usually just
bands I liked and didn’t think much
about it.”
Ray’s friendships lead him into a network
of like-minded individuals whose common bond
was, first and foremost, the music. By this
time Cappo was already well known in the scene.
His latest band, Youth of Today, had already
been making a name for itself with its incendiary
live shows and confrontationally Straight-Edge
lyrics for more than two years. Youth of Today’s
ever-changing lineup was a carousel “who’s
who” of NYHC fame; with members including
longtime friend and collaborator Porcell,
Richie Birkenhead (of Underdog and Into Another
fame), Walter Schreifels (Gorilla Biscuits,
Quicksand), Mike Judge (Death Before Dishonor,
Judge), Craig Setari (Agnostic Front, Sick
of it All, Straight Ahead), and Sammy Siegler
(Side By Side, Gorilla Biscuits) just to name
a few. Those friendships would eventually
become the core of the Revelation Records
roster and the fodder for its initial groundbreaking
records.
Revelation’s first release (and catalogue
number one) came in 1987 in the form of 7”
EP by the New York band Warzone. It was entitled
The Lower East Side Crew EP and, in many ways,
was the embodiment of both the scene and the
label. It didn’t start out that way;
like most independent entities Revelation
came about organically with no set plan or
design.
“Ray (Cappo) knew Raybeez and Warzone,
got to be friends with them, and then introduced
me to them.” Raybeez took over from
there; delivering a finished recording for
Jordan and Cappo to press and distribute.
As Cooper describes; “it all went pretty
smoothly because Raybeez was pretty focused.
When he decided to do something he made it
happen. He gave us everything we needed to
get it done.” When asked about it today,
Jordan has trouble remembering if the original
recordings were a demo, or a practice tape,
or something the band recorded specifically
for he and Cappo to put out, but he recalls:
“once we ran out of (the original Lower
East Side Crew EPs) Raybeez said ‘don’t
make any more, we’re going to re-record
it.’”
Ray "Raybeez" Barbieri
Everything came together around that record.
The famous Revelation logo (designed by Alex
brown of Side By Side and Gorilla Biscuits
with input from Cappo, and inspired, in part,
by the logo of the old Dangerhouse Records)
was selected; even the name (again, Cappo’s.
The original intent was to name the label
Schism Records) was portentous. The cover
art for The Lower East Side Crew was simple
and stark (a grainy, black and white photo
which shows the band on a stage performing;
the viewer’s eye is focused on iconic
singer Raybeez who is postured in Hardcore’s
most perfect setting: the live show) and it
spoke volumes about the music before a note
was even heard. That picture managed to capture
a passion that was the cornerstone of the
scene. The music was raw; it was a ragged
mixture of the Oi and Punk roots that had
fueled New York Hardcore before it had a definite
formula. The EP’s layout and design
followed and helped ingrain the blueprint
for how Hardcore 7”s should look and
feel. About three thousand were pressed before
the end of the run and it was never re-released.
It was destined to be a collectible. Encapsulated
on two small sides of vinyl were seven songs
of blistering Youth Crew anthems with Utopia-craving
titles like “Always-A Friend for Life,”
“Under 18” and the often-covered
Hardcore staple “We’re the Crew.”
The inside of the record was full of information;
an extended “thanks” list that
reads like a fantasy roster of all-star Hardcore
giants, pictures of friends and gigs, and
a curious plea for trades. While trading for
records wasn’t new to the underground
music scene, the stuff that Cooper and Cappo
were willing to accept in return was: they
wanted toys. They would trade the Warzone
EP for old G.I. Joe, Batman, and Planet of
the Apes action figures.
“That was all Ray. After he moved to
New York he found that store Love Saves the
Day and when he saw all those old lunch boxes
he remembered his childhood toys and wanted
to get them again. As a matter of fact, when
Ray had kids a few years ago I gave him most
of the G.I. Joes.” So they sent the
word out: toys for tunes and, according to
Jordan, they got a lot of trades.
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