No sleep till Hamilton

Chris Walter captures Canadian punk rock
legends in Argh Fuck Kill: The Story of the
Dayglo Abortions

by JONATHAN CUMMINS

Punk rock wordsmith Chris Walter proves yet again that he knows how to get to the nitty-gritty with the deliciously snotty biography Argh Fuck Kill: The Story of the Dayglo Abortions, which tackles the hijinx and punk rock vitriol of Canada’s most loved and hated punk band.

Walter’s enthralling biography of one of hardcore punk’s greatest unsung bands, Personality Crisis: Warm Beer & Wild Times, was easily my favourite rock read of 2008. Now armed with the colourful characters that make up the Dayglo Abortions, Walter stuffs every page with tales of debauchery, drug abuse, deaths, depression, numerous line-up changes and the band’s refusal to age gracefully, all of which results in a romp of a read.

The story of “the Dayglos” is traced back to their meagre beginnings playing rented halls in Victoria, B.C. in the summer of 1980, shortly after the break-up of Dayglo guitarist/singer the Cretin’s earlier band, Sikphuxz.

Even during their salad days, these musical miscreants polarized punk rock audiences with toe-tappers like “I Killed Mommy,” “Religious Bumfucks” and “Dogfarts.”

The Dayglos knew how to draw a line in the pit and punk rockers quickly loved ’em or hated ’em, a tradition that holds firm even 30 years later. This glimpse of the B.C. punk scene of the early ’80s, with a supporting cast of D.O.A., the Pointed Sticks, Nomeansno and others, also gives us a peek through the doors of sweltering, long-defunct punk dives like the Smilin’ Buddha and Luxury Bob’s.

Walter’s exhaustive research is top-notch and his writing vivid when covering this often overlooked period of Canadian hardcore history.

The book really picks up, however, when the band finally grows out of its teething stage. Walter covers the booze-fuelled escapades of Dayglos’ main characters, the Cretin and drummer Jesus Bonehead, their welfare scams, evictions, bad business decisions and famous obscenity trial of 1988. It’s this trial that would prove to be the undoing of their record label, Fringe, and would put a crease in the band that would take years of constant touring to iron out.

The tales of the Dayglos’ drunk and disorderly debauchery make supposed “bad boys” Mötley Crüe look like schoolboys still in their freshly pressed short pants.

Admittedly, it’s this lurid side of the band that will draw you in, but Walter is far too smart to over-use this cheap gimmick. He understands that the secret of the band’s survival and the real meat of the story are the sacrifices and dedication the band continues to display, even three decades later.

There’s no rock-star success or silver lining here—the Dayglos continue to pour their broken gear, sleeping bags and hung-over heads into the same rust-bucket vans for a fanbase that has remained relatively consistent for the past 20 years.

Walter is perfectly suited to the task he’s taken on with this book, as this labour of love seems to be tapped directly from his heart. His punk rock pedigree is without question—something that should be obvious, given the limited readership that his subjects ultimately garner. Walter also scores big here by adorning almost every page with gig flyers, photos of the band and pics of assorted punk rock misanthropes giving the reader a perfect sense of time and place.

Like all rock biographies worth their salt, the story of the band being too stupid to stop and too smart to be successful should reach far beyond the Dayglo Abortions’ exclusive fanbase and appeal to any fan of real punk rock. The Dayglo Abortions have suffered for their art—now it’s your turn.

ARGH FUCK KILL: THE STORY OF THE
DAYGLO ABORTIONS BY CHRIS
WALTER, GFY PRESS, PB, 249 PP., $19