RE/Search Visit With V.Vale

Met V.Vale, RE/Search Publications' publisher at the office in the North Beach neighborhood of San Francisco (right across from City Lights bookstore) The apartment building at Romolo Street was covered with black plastic sheeting so I wasn't quite sure it was the right place. Vale buzzed me in and met me at his door.

Right away he remarked that he was glad I looked like a librarian/writer type. He offered me a chair at his dining room table. His flat was one connected room -- living room, dining room, kitchen, all kind of hooked together. There were RE/Search's books lining the walls on bookshelves. It was cluttered yet tidy and organized.

Vale pulled out a large ledger book and had me sign it. When I told him I had no tape recorder or camera, that I just wanted to meet him and maybe interview him later, he remarked that he may not be around then. Then he laughed, but he was also serious, "you never know what could happen". We started chatting and he said, "you know what, I could tape this and send you the tape" and I was very grateful he offered to do so. He then started talking about Will, who was not his friend at all. "Will didn't like me", Vale said flatly. He went on to talk about Will's apparent discipleship to a guy named John Zerzan, an anarchist philosopher who fashioned himself into a sort of guru to Will. Will was shy and humble around Zerzan, but Vale raised Will's punk ire because Vale was a "journalist" ("Search & Destroy" fanzine). This was back when Will was in Negative Trend and was only around 19 at the time.

While Vale and I talked, we sipped some really good tea. He was such a gracious host I felt very comfortable. It was apparent he didn't really have much us for Will, either, as Will had come along in the second wave of punks (1978 or so) whereas V.Vale first saw a punk show in 1976. Will seemed to him just a middle-class kid posing as a punk yet not embracing the open-minded spirit of true punk.

While I was visiting, a couple more people showed up, including a guy from Oklahoma. By that time I felt it was time to leave, but Vale insisted I at least finish my tea.

After I left his place I walked upstairs to see the apt. (or at least the door to) where Will died. #5 or #6? I don't know. I felt a little voyeuristic yet fascinated at the same time. (Quotes attributed to V.Vale were how I remembered what he said, not actual verbatim).

My Visit To Subterranean Records

Behind a black iron gate at the dead end of a street, in a nondescript building next to a highway, lies Subterranean Records. Steve Tupper, the owner/operator, meets me at the gate and lets me in. The warehouse itself is a controlled chaos of boxes, papers, records, dvds, cds, and old files. There is a layer of dust on almost every un-used surface, and even the cobwebs have baby cobwebs. There are flyers on the walls, and an old computer sits on Steve's desk. Next to the desk is a scanner/copier, a printer, all well-used. When Steve makes me a copy of something, he remarks at how well it turns out, surprised that the old gal works so well.

I admit that I am flustered, but Steve's demeaner is calm, retiring almost. I want him to feel at ease so don't take many notes or actually interview him. I ask some questions,but not a whole lot, as I'm more interested in what he has to show me. Everything he unearths from his filing cabinet and from under the large shelves (he had to use a flashlight to find the right stuff) is like diamonds to me. I don't think he realizes this.

He shows me the "Will" file. It includes clippings from when Will died, letters people wrote about that, checks from Will and his partner Janette that were never cashed, "I knew they didn't have the money in their account", and a business card from the woman who wrote a profile of Will after his death for the San Francisco Examiner.

Steve also shows me a file of A3I stuff. It is fairly thin, just a few flyers, photos of the band, and copies of lyrics for the unreleased ("there are test-pressings floating around") A3I album, "Ruins Of America".

Steve and I head over to the "archives" where a lot of photos are stored, and he needs the flashlight to find the right ones. He finds the one for Flipper and it turns out to be a treasure trove of pictures of the band. I want to take them with me and copy them, but don't want to ask to do that -- it's not like Steve knows me. Instead I write down the respective photographers' info.

I wonder if Steve even realizes what he has in his dusty warehouse. He holds some real history there. I wonder if the stuff will just molder forever in the warehouse, or will anything more be done with it? And I wonder where else Flipper's legacy hides -- what other basements or attics in this city and others?