Manic D Press, 192 pages, paperback, $15.95
The story behind me reviewing this book begins when I was contacted by my editor sometime in February 2015 to review Dave Dictor’s memoirs and possibly do an interview. At the time, I was told I could only receive the first chapter of the book, since Dictor was still in the process of writing. Unfortunately, there were some legal problems happening between the editors, the publicist, and Dictor, so I never ended up reading the first chapter, and the whole review was put on hold.
During the time that elapsed, the closest thing to literature by Dave Dictor I read was a recipe for “Livin’ and Lovin’ Avocado Salad” with homemade hummus from Chaos In The Kitchen, which features tasty recipes written by punk rockers all around the world.
Fast-forward to summer 2016: the book is finally ready to be reviewed, and my own copy of MDC: Memoir From a Damaged Civilization is shipped to my house. The long-awaited first chapter, appropriately called “My Family is a Little Weird,” talks about Dictor’s family life growing up, how his sexuality developed, and how he wrote the first two MDC songs in high school. Dictor recalls important experiences in his childhood and teenage years which eventually turn him onto a life of punk rock, left-wing politics, and vegetarianism. The first few chapters in particular provide context to the first batch of songs Dictor wrote.
The first incarnation of MDC — originally called The Stains — was based in Austin, Texas, where they would regularly play gigs with The Dicks and Big Boys. This led to Dictor’s infamous clash with HR of Bad Brains, when homophobic comments were made towards Gary Floyd of the Dicks. Very ironic considering HR is supposed to stand for “Human Rights.”
Dictor runs into his fair share of conflicts over the years due to his politics. Throughout his life, he has been threatened three times by policemen, who’ve said things along the lines of “burying Dictor out in some field” because of his band name or because of his involvement in protests. However, the people who most threatened Dictor seem to be sieg-heiling right-wing skinheads, who went as far as to put a bounty on his head in the early ’80s. Reading about Dictor getting attacked by boot-boys didn’t help my fear of skinheads, especially after seeing the film Green Room.
The great thing about a band name like MDC is it could be changed multiple times: Millions of Dead Cops, Metal Dead Cokes, Multi-Death Corporation, etc. Changing names becomes necessary with the amount of lineup changes MDC goes through. At times, it’s very easy to lose track of who is still in the band — just keep in mind that Dictor is the only permanent member.
Dictor’s memoirs read like any other punk memoir that I’ve read previously, with expected mentions of Minor Threat and Black Flag, though at times I was forced to Google some lesser-known punk bands that Dictor makes mention of. Reading this book made for a great opportunity to discover new music. Probably the most surprising discovery was Dictor’s short-lived side project with Thomas “Pig Champion” Roberts, the Submissives. Their album An Anvil Will Wear Out Many a Hammer is a definite worthwhile listen.
Much like many other punk memoirs, there’s a long list of obituaries. In almost every paragraph, Dictor has to stop the story to pay tribute to a passed friend. Punk rock is a dangerous game, and very few survive to the age of 59 like Dictor.
Dictor isn’t much of a gifted writer, but he gets the facts down and is brutally honest. He doesn’t shy away from telling stories about regrettable hook-ups, shitting his pants at a show and popping a boner at the dentist’s office. Like other punk memoirs, the most memorable stories come from being on the road and running into problems with foreign authorities. But it’s not always laughs and sweet nostalgia. Dictor also explores the darker chapters of his life, like his addiction to methamphetamines and his long stay in the hospital in May of 2014 due to a staph infection in his bones. The final chapter is a touching biography of his mother and stepfather, closed with a heartfelt thank you. Very unusual for a punk memoir – most punk rockers have a complicated relationship with their parents, but not Dictor.
I recommend re-familiarizing yourself with the MDC discography while reading this book, particularly the first record. If you’re a person like me who prides themselves on filling their head with useless information on punk rock history, then this book is essential for your library. Even if you’re not all that familiar with MDC, this book gives you a proper introduction from the beginning. It’s never too late to start listening to Millions of Dead Cops.