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| Naked Raygun's Jeff Pezzati and a smitten audience. Photo by Aaron Cynic. |
It is 1988.
A group of Chicago punks loiter in the parking lot of the Dunkin’ Donuts on the corner of Belmont and Clark. They smoke cigarettes and sneak sips from bottles of beer wrapped up in brown paper bags. A couple of Chicago’s Finest approach the punks, start hassling ‘em, tell ‘em to move along.
They’ve hated the punks for a decade or more, already - just who do these kids think they are? Thinking they can wear police leather jackets and not even remove the patches that bear the Chicago flag; as though the city belongs to them. Thinking they can just hang out in this parking lot, without even buying a donut or a cup of coffee. “Scram,” the cops tell the punks.
The punks take off - they don’t wanna get fined or arrested, and anyway, they’re headed to a show at Metro.
Naked Raygun, maybe the best punk band to ever come out of Chicago - and certainly the longest-running - is playing.
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| Naked Raygun show poster, 1988 [1] |
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