I saw the Dead Kennedys play in San Francisco and they were like nothing else I had seen: full of fire and energy. My boyfriend at the time was friends with the drummer, D.H. Peligro, and he managed to get us an invite to stay with him at his place in the Castro district. The night was surreal because we were out of our city yet felt that we belonged there as much as anybody. Unfamiliar faces, but ones that shared the same love of the music.
San Francisco had a very cool punk scene and the atmosphere was dark and dingy, just the way I liked it. The next morning we were surrounded by punks. Even in the daylight, they wore their war paint just so. No detail left out, from the black eyeliner drawn in thick that went far past their eyelids, to hair that was purposely spiked to look messy and yet casual. It was a good way to wake up.
~ Brenda Perlin