Twenty-five years is a long time for anything, but in the world of publishing it’s a goldarned miracle. Flagpole would not be the paper it is today if it were not for our supportive readers, advertisers and even our antagonizers. Hell, going against the grain should be a meaningful action, so here’s a hat-tip to all the grain providers! Put on your dancin’ shoes and let’s take a little stroll…
The Earliest: Musicians and fans have always been a bit oversensitive and thin-skinned. And in a town as small as Athens, where the mere fact of existing seems to imply some sort of membership in the “scene,†it can get really hand-wringy. However, that doesn’t mean all criticism is well considered or even comprehensible. Anyone else remember the late ’80s and Flagpole‘s blatantly homophobic cartoon of Indigo Girls fans outside the Uptown Lounge? How about Michael Guthrie‘s scathing denouncement of then-publisher Jared Bailey, who had written that the lineup of the second annual Athens Music Festival was “truly lame and unimaginative?” (For the record, I agreed with Guthrie’s letter. I went to that specific festival and had a ball. No lameness noted at all.)
I Love the ’90s!: Yeah, we say that now but, seriously, Flagpole went through some severe growing pains in the 1990s. Its music coverage shifted seismically between playing nice with everyone and publishing brutal commentary. And when it didn’t do that, it often missed the boat entirely. As incredible as it is to imagine, there was no significant appreciation in these pages for the Elephant 6 scene before 1996; the first anniversary of Kindercore Records was celebrated by two utter doofs musing idiotically about every record the label had released to that point; and, weirdly, the paper devoted a full page to that band Live just so then-Flagpole scribe (and Chunklet publisher) Henry Owings could rip it a new one. When the paper wasn’t slamming twee-pop or ignoring the second most significant musical development in Athens history, it was worshiping country and Americana, hard rock and anything that hinted of the Touch & Go Records scene. To wit, if your band was The Star Room Boys, Slumberjack, Bliss, Magneto, The Woggles, Hayride, Roosevelt, Daisy/The Daisy Group, Hot Burritos, Jack-O-Nuts, Porn Orchard, Redneck Greece Deluxe or Hillbilly Frankenstein, chances are good you were doted on. If you were a member of Five Eight, you were worshiped like a god. If you were one of the poor suckers in Nipples for Days, Green Bean Go, Ceiling Fan, Hi-Score, Rugboy or Gritty Kitty, you were basically outta luck. Hell, if your name was Nuçi Phillips—irony of ironies—you were barely breathed upon.
In other aspects, though, the decade solidified Flagpole as Athens’ go-to source for music news—and not just locally, either. During the alt-rock boom, Athens was a don’t-miss tour stop for L7, Hole, Beck, Jawbox, Mudhoney and total weirdos like Head of David. It was also the decade when the Flagpole Christmas recording series took root. Although those always contained a lot of goofy novelty tracks, they remain good time capsules of a scene that wasn’t yet encroached upon by the HOPE Scholarship, the completion of Highway 316 or out-of-control condo development. The only significant competing publication at the time was the Observer‘s Classic City Live, which was affectionately known as “Classic Shitty Jive†by, well, pretty much everyone. Flagpole had none of the distribution and printing muscle, but what it did have were enthusiastic and attentive writers—and a couple of really swell editors who were willing to type (yes, this was all pre-email) pieces out all week long. The paper also threw its support behind the nascent AthFest, which has, of course, become synonymous with summer in Athens.
Also, if you ever get the feeling that Threats & Promises skews a little too harshly on the critical tip, I beg you to go read all of John Britt‘s columns from the ’90s. Dubbed The Heckler, he wrote it like he really meant it, had zero patience for bands’ preciousness and is remembered in some circles for storming up the backstage stairs of the 40 Watt to scream “TAKE OFF YOUR PANTS!†at the local pretty boys in coulda-shoulda-woulda major-label star Trinket.
The Beginning of a New Age: By the time 2000 hit and we all checked our wallets and watches only to realize we hadn’t fallen off the grid, Flagpole had fully caught up to Elephant 6, and Kindercore was trucking right along bigger than ever. Then, things got weird. People started moving to Athens more because of these things and less because it was R.E.M.’s town. The punk scene took off, but due to legal concerns regarding the advertising of private homes—or just lack of communication—a lot of stuff slipped by. Still, there was a solid effort to cover Carrie Nations, Zumm Zumm, all of Jason Griffin‘s thrash bands (No!, Divorce, et al.) and the Tite Pockets scene. Flagpole also kept a solid eye on the Secret Squirrel and all the bands Mercer West seemed to be Svengali for. Confession: Most of the coverage during this period, at least in terms of straight news, fell on my shoulders. I’d like to think I always did my best and kept my ear to the ground as much as possible, but I know fully well I dropped the ball on a few—or more—occasions.
And Here We Are: If you’re a loyal Flagpole reader, I fully expect you to have violent objections to my recollections and the bands I bothered mentioning. I expect you to point out the gaping holes and years-long lapses of memory. I expect you to react how Flagpole‘s readers have always reacted; that is, as fully engaged members of the music scene or, barring that, at least enthusiastic partakers in it. I make no overtures to comprehensiveness, and keep in mind that all of this is in reference to Flagpole‘s music coverage, not any other portion of the paper. And, owing to both the nature of this column and the premise of our 25th anniversary issue, you can trust that everything here comes straight from my memory bank and all opinions are mine alone. Some of it’s rose-colored, some of it is ashen, and all of it is impressionistic. To the super motivated: Go back and read about some of the names and things and places I mentioned. There’s a book in there.
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