The do-it-yourself tradition of punk-rock fliers are just part of his new book, “Visual Vitriol: The Street Art and Subcultures of the Punk and Hardcore Generation”, published by the University of Mississippi Press. The book covers punk’s cultural crossover into graffiti and skateboarding, and includes insight into queer, female and Hispanic punk scenes.

To promote the book, Mr Ensminger organised a travelling exhibition of punk-rock gig posters and fliers. The wall-sized collage, assembled recently at Rough Trade East in London, embodies a mostly American, anti-authoritarian sensibility from the 1980s. (The fliers include calls to “Rock Against Reagan” and vote for
“[Jello] Biafra For Mayor”.)

Mr Ensminger plays with The Biscuit Bombs and No Love Less, and founded the punk zine Left Of The Dial. He teaches folklore, composition, and humanities at Lee College in Baytown, Texas, and he runs websites that archive the history of female punks and black punks, and punk scenes in Florida, Texas, California, New York City and America’s midwest.

What makes a book about ‘80s punk rock timely and relevant in 2011?

As the world leans more heavily towards digitised forms and virtual representations, the book highlights handmade, do-it-yourself, vernacular and deeply democratic works on paper. As the old economy of paper products and industry gives way to the information economy and social-media platforms, fliers posted on light poles seem so “last century”. Google has digitised innumerable books; I have digitised well over 1,500 gig fliers.

What makes concert fliers from punk shows so significant?

Fliers were microcosms that speak indelibly about the economics of the underground. From cut-n-paste guerrilla style to utilitarian blandness, [they capture the] psycho-geography of scenes, the location of the clubs, and the fuzzy ideologies of the community in handwritten rants and graphic fare.

Why do you collect them?

Documenting the fliers means preserving the works on paper of myriad anonymous artists meant to be short-lived. It also means using the fliers to document the participation of women, people of colour, and gays and lesbians in the multicultural punk sphere. I curate a whole blog dedicated to the work of Randy “Biscuit” Turner, a rare “out” gay punk-funk pioneer who made well over 100 gig fliers for his band the Big Boys without utilising typewriters or computers. He relied entirely on inky illustration, cut and paste, collage, mixed media and the rigors of copy machines. Black people didn’t immerse in punk? Think again. I have over 250 fliers of bands playing gigs with black members, and that’s just the tip of the iceberg.

What does the newer Muslim punk scene have in common with the ‘80s punk discussed in your book? What’s different?

Muslim punks prove that punk is a convergence culture shaped by pluralism, not middle-class Anglo aspirations. They really test punk’s true dictum—to extend freedom—and push people to recognise punk as a vehicle of power that recognises no border.

You write that skateboarding in the 80s was “genuinely empowering.” Is it still?

Skateboarding is still quite restricted in many areas, a kind of fugitive act, especially as cities become much more monitored and space becomes much more contested. Skateboarders still seize pedestrian, industrial, recreational and municipal spaces to re-imagine use and topography, sport and theatrics.

Did your work collecting punk literature and art lead you to your current academic career?

Five years ago I returned as a student at the University of Oregon, under the helm of the folklore programme, where I sought a second masters degree under the guidance of Daniel Wojcik, a well-admired folklorist and former punk himself. In the 1990s he penned a book on punk’s transgressive qualities, including tattooing and piercing. During the programme I realised I had been pursuing folklore my whole life, documenting vernacular art and street art for years.

How do you explain flier culture to people unfamiliar with it?

Fliers were an essential part of the process of stirring culture from below. Fliering was not just a solo process, some lone kid stuck in the basement, using Adobe Illustrator or other programs. It was dirty and dishevelled, hands-on, faulty and frail. Plus it created a sense of lore—from The Clash wheat-pasting London in times of strife to people being chased for vandalism here in the [American] South. Plenty of discontent flows through digital avenues as well, but will it resonate like the furore and discord the Sex Pistols unleashed? Jamie Reid, who designed the album art for “Never Mind the Bollocks”, is now just another artist appropriated and remixed, and he himself borrowed plenty from earlier art movements, but that shock value is difficult to repeat.

“Visual Vitriol: The Street Art and Subcultures of the Punk and Hardcore Generation” by David Ensminger is published by the University of Mississippi Press and is out now.

The full interview is at THE ECONOMIST and also at INTELLIGENT LIFE

Fresh off of a five-week tour of the UK and Europe, These Are Powers singer and guitarist Anna Barie relaxes with the band in their Chicago attic space by watching a dog show on TV with the sound off and the new TV on the Radio album booming.

Sounding more like an artist than a musician, Barie explains why she and her band mates initially described their band as ghost punk. “We created ‘ghost punk’ because we wanted to create something like a situationist movement, where we say what we are and then creatively dismiss it.”

After two eerie albums full of big, heavy, droning songs, the band has followed through on that promise. Their third album, “All Aboard Future,” is ghost punk grown up. The music is still creepy, but songs are more spacious, with precise, digital beats and more comprehensible vocals. It’s more club, less thrash.

Gigantic threads of apocalyptic noise have been swapped for clearly defined verses and dancier beats. There is a bigger emphasis on production, inspired by Jay-Z, the Neptunes, and Timbaland. “I listen to mainstream radio rap all the time,” says Bill Salas, the band’s drummer. “Music that bumps as hard as that does, using only three sounds and one beat. It’s impressive.”

The Brooklyn- and Chicago-based band may be polishing their approach, but the way they make music is the same. They don’t discuss what key they’re playing in, and live performances vary depending on vocal cues or drum cues. “I think we are a straight-up punk band,” says Barie. “We’re doing it the way we know how, and not the way anyone tells us to do it. That’s punk, and anyone can do it.”

“At one show, about 10 people fell on my pedals because of one aggressive dude in the audience,” says bassist Pat Noecker. “Our music can drive people happily insane sometimes.” Barie explains the band’s ethos more clearly. “It’s a little creepy and disconcerting, but it has a sense of humor.”

(As appeared in the February 2009 issue of Dazed & Confused magazine)

Jello Biafra, Ministry, and Nine Inch Nails are all connected. See why at MOTHER JONES.

I spoke with Rollins about his USO tours, punk rock, the newest season of his television show, and the art of storytelling. The full audio is at MOTHER JONES.