If you’ve checked in on this site over the past five (very nearly six) years, you must have wondered, “Where are the new posts? Has this site been abandoned?” Well, keep in mind that in early 2020, just after I last posted here, we discovered we were in the throes of a worldwide pandemic, and in Honolulu, as with every other city across the globe, concert-going and nightclubbing came to an abrupt halt. We would eventually return to something resembling normalcy, though it took at least two years (some would say three, officially) for nearly all restrictions to be eased and lockdowns and curfews to cease.
How, then, through this strange, trying period, could I scratch my interminable itch for finding the most compelling, obscure sounds of the Honolulu underground and the fascinating people and stories attached to them? Well, it occurred to me that if musicians lacked opportunities to showcase themselves and their music, I might have to switch gears somehow. Having recently read Please Kill Me, the preeminent oral history of punk rock and its New York roots, my curiosity regarding the origins of my own local scene led me to an entirely new obsession. I began, with great persistence, tracking down the founders of Hawaii’s punk, post-punk, metal, and indie rock scenes to hear their stories. One phone interview led to another, and when all was said and done, I’d spoken with more than 130 musicians, DJs, club owners, promoters and scenesters whose personal accounts now comprise a new book called Local Unrest.
It was truly a labor of love. Nearly every day off from work was spent arranging and conducting interviews, transcribing and editing each session, and organizing them into chapters, each of which I’d compose introductions for to assist readers in understanding the backstories of the bands and personalities as well as the many stages and eras of the scene and their impact on the underground music community.
With all the money spent on this project, particularly in the final phase of this self-publishing endeavor, I could have bought a decent used car. I never intended to profit in any way from this project. In fact, I’m pretty certain I’ll lose money on it. But I consider it a gift to the scene that has given my life so much meaning over the decades.
The initial feedback, I must say, has been beyond what I’d hoped for. People seem genuinely excited for this book. As of this writing, Local Unrest is #1 for new punk titles on Amazon, #3 in all punk titles, #5 in overall new books on music, and holding strong in several other categories. It now begs the question: So what’s next? In time, those rankings will probably slip quietly into inky oblivion, and I’ll have to find ways to keep this project discoverable and accessible to new readers. I’ll probably need to maintain a cluster of Internet sites (Webpage, Instagram, Facebook, Twitter, etc.) and adopt a strict regimen of constant, unyielding promotion. Yuck. Bleh. I mean, if you know me, you know I’m just not a “look at me” kind of person. It’s a bit embarrassing to force yourself and your goods on people, which is what promotion often feels like. And yet, what’s also true is that I’ve always been a loyal and ardent advocate of the Hawaii underground scene, and I’ll never tire of learning of new bands and musical projects and the people behind them. In the end, I suppose, that will always drive me to do what I do, so onward I go.
B-Side HNL 