Part 17! Hospital…End of being a Filth Roadie…
The NP SKINS consisted of the younger members of the skinhead community in NP with a couple of the older guys as the leader types. I joined by asking the two main guys who are old mates of mine. The piss-ups were damn good and apart from one or two dumbfucks, all the crew were a bunch of good guys. Plus, with me as a member, any possible neo-nazi factions were nullified to some degree (and I didn’t cut my hair off either…) Though, it did make me enemies, one in particular whom I ran into one night after consuming a vast amount of alcohol (errrr about a 750 of Jim Beam, several Goannas and some beer). This lout is a wannabe SS floozy who basically trains all the time with swords/ martial arts etc. It was coming really, our showdown, though it would have been nicer with less alcohol in my system (though it did kill the pain while severely hampering my combat effectiveness…)
After the basic insults were swapped we headed round the back for our fight and halfway thru my rhetoric he dropped me. Whampf! Didn’t feel a thing cos I was so sozzled. I woke up cursing my ass off and headed back to the gig but he had bailed. Then I noticed my ankle was all fucked up. “Fuck, broken ankle, better walk to the hospital…” Luckily one of my mates drove me up there cos in my pissed state I woulda walked the 3 miles to base. So I missed out on going to Sweetwaters with the Filth cos I was laid up in hospital. I had quite a few visitors but the meds wouldn’t let me out in time for the gig. Meh…
Nearly 3 months later, I was out of plaster and back at work. I’d met another girl (it had been a couple of years since the previous one..and I always like a break inbetween). We headed off to a Filth gig and I asked Boot if he needed a hand. “Nah, we’re doing our own roadie stuff now”. Sweet as, after the show we went back and all got drunk together but I was no longer part of the roadcrew (though, my roadie pass still works with the Filth and likewise). It was a bit depressing but hey, Shit happens, and I had other things to do.
Fast forward 2-3 years of domestic bliss…
Slug died in the Hawkes Bay from an overdose, he’d come to stay in NP a few times but he’d gone to the pack. Too much drugs and alcohol had turned him into a former shadow of himself. I didn’t go to his funeral, I’d rather remember him as the Punker I met years ago in AK rather than the derro he became.
She left (damn…I liked her too…) and I launched into another binge of drunkeness and hanging round with Nazi Scum and the ‘Transport Officer’ basically going to gigs at Flicks bar or the Hart to see Horror Story and whomever they were playing with: 7.62 Short, GMC, Release, Backyard Burial, Flesh D-Vice, Wrath, Cynical Ploy, Brutal Truth and hordes of others. Von Toxic and the boys were still living in Molesworth street and I needed a place to stay. So it was back into my old room at the ‘Mole’ where Toxic asked me if I had my drivers license (hahaha…he couldn’t recall that I used to drive them round in the Nefarious days). So I became the Horror Story roadie. I also asked Toxic if he could show me how to play bass. After a couple of jams he pronounced me ready to join a band! WTF! So NEKROTIKA was born (he did ask me what type of music I wanted to play…’brutal, simple death metal!’)
It was good to be back roadying for a band again. I’ve always preferred lurking in the shadows rather than being in the limelight. I did/ do indulge in a bit of bouncing at shows still, breaking up the odd fight and generally, standing round, not smiling. Poodle became the Filth roadie which was all cool cos he’s more into it than I am. Chris said to me one night at a Filth show that when I was roadie we were doing 30-40 gigs a year but that was a while ago now. I last saw Sticky Filth play at Kings Arms when we were up for Marty Fucks memorial last year and my roadie pass still worked! I lurked off to the Edens bar to see Graymalkin and Skuldom… and when I got back SF were still playing! It’s fun being in a band (cheaper than buying a Harley…nearly…) and every once in a while I get to indulge in a bit of UV.
One night at a Horror Story show an ‘acquaintance’ from the NP SKINS showed up wearing a White Power shirt (meh). He proceeded to make an ass of himself by trying to rip off some alcohol from the bar, steal some merch and then try to step Toxic out. I stepped him out and once he’d stopped pulling my hair and trying to punch thru my arms I flipped him on his stomach and put my knee in his back. I gave him the ‘VOICE’… ‘YOU DON”T WANT TO FUCK WITH ME OR MY MATES, COS I WILL FUCKING CRUSH YOU’ and then Poodle stomped on his head (unsolicited by me….).
Our crew is pretty tight.
Life is a circle I guess…
So that’s pretty much my story…I’ve left bits out and not mentioned a few people. Brenda (cheers for the Card!), Sue, Shazza, Hannah, Rinay, Brad and Wade, All the New Plymouth Bogans and a horde of good mates that have been there. The remaining Droogs and a host of faces from over the years… I remember most of the fights cos it’s the way I am but I still recall that lil Crass punker I was/ am….. And I’m still meeting damn fine people, Wax, The PNHC, Becs and Ronnie, Ted, Viking Dek and the Wellington Crust Horde from Punkfest last year (my first…)
All a bit of a laugh and a pint of Vodka really…
and Slammy lived happily ever after with his Sword and his collection of war stuff….
……………………………………Seeya’s at the Show………………………………
………………………………… the end….(sort of)…………………………………..
