GABBA GABBA HEY
or
Short Course of Polish Punk Rock

There are such places in Poland, where middle-aged individuals raise this kind of shout. Treating themselves heavily with food and drink, they recall the long-lost memories of times when safety pins were rationed, and in the city there were no dealers, nor killers. This is a "ZBOWiD" group debating, the veterans of the punk Union of Rebels for Freedom and Democracy. Their Motherland has forgotten about them, and only the patriotic 'Machina' evokes their memories. And to them I dedicate this handful of memories.
Jerry Garcia used to say that whoever claims to remember the Sixties must be lying. There was so too much dope going around to memorise anything. And although Warsaw is different from California, I must confess using calendars and covered with dust diaries to dig out this and that, and entertain you, dear readers, with this Short Course of Polish Punk Rock.

1978 - First, several words about the Polish Punk (PP). The old PZPR (Polish United Union Party) comrades of the Youth Department are right in saying that punk fashion was imported from the 'rotten West'. Small notes appeared in press warning of "dirty, noisy youngsters that looked scary, their clothes were covered with safety pins, and they drank beer on street corners. Those youngsters practise the cult of hatred, and spit at each other". In this way Polish press painted the final fall and nihilism of the West. No wonder that part of the young generation got seriously attracted to it.
The 1978 was the end of the "Gierek era" (between 1969 and 1979 Edward Gierek was the Head of State, during which the country was almost completely ruined financially to, as some jokers used to say, "make a little step forward". Tired hippie fiddled with lethally long solos, the dance-clubs were crowded with tipsy guests swinging to some ABBA tunes and African-German hits. In Warsaw, the most stylish was Hotel Forum built by Swedish, where all foreign currency dealers, undercover agents, and hookers used to hang out. The shops were empty, records - almost impossible to get, and the hunger of the outside world and its joy - insatiable.
Robert Brylewski: A series of press releases announced coming of a new trend in music. My friends and I were deeply interested in music. But, while at the beginning of 70's a lot of great records were released, there was not much going on later in the decade. There were less and less live gigs and singing about young people's problems. On top of the charts were such bands as Genesis, and The Rolling Stones, blinded by the spotlights and their sequins glitter. Bader (Robert Sobocinski - ed.), my high-school pal, and me, understood the press notes as a way of telling us how to have great time. So, we decided to become the first punks in town, and rushed to get some safety pins. Then, we pinned the junk onto our suits and put a little make-up, just like Siouxsie from The Banshees used to do it.

April 1978: Henryk Gajewski, the extremely energetic and hard-working manager of the Remont Gallery in Warsaw, was organising the first performance-art festival. Alongside the avant-garde's, he also invited VideoHeads, a band from Amsterdam, and a London punk-band called The Raincoats. The whole thing took place in a club named after the Gallery, and managed by the Socialist Union of Polish Students. Such clubs - and there were a lot of them spread throughout the country - served as an 'emergency valve'. For young careerists, the party members, they were a place to get drunk, gather their clique, or pick up some girls. However, a lot of important events happened there - exhibitions, film screenings, jazz concerts. Henryk gave the capital a chance to see real punks' performance. Together with Tomek Lipinski, we worked there as pilots-translators - a bit for the money, a bit for the adventure. And for the Raincoats, of course...
Although the previous summer he used to play 'Dylan's' and Airto Moreiry's South-African rhythms at the Barbakan, Lipinski aka Franz had recently dressed in quite a weird manner. I think he had got his first Sex Pistols records then, and was already prepared for the Raincoats concert. The band, i.e. three girls and Nick The Drummer, were really nice, played melancholic punk, and caused a flood in the socialist, luxury Forum Hotel room. The presence of four young men wearing black jackets covered with loads of safety was the biggest surprise at the concerts. One of them went as far as putting the 'jewel' in his cheek (later on we discovered the technique of painless 'body piercing').
Brylewski: I remember Bader and me standing one day by the Rotunda in Warsaw (before it exploded later on), and looking at a bloke wandering about, wearing a leather jacket, a 'Swede' (that showed no style whatsoever, buttoned up his neck), and gazing at us. We said to each other: he must be an agent, and we'll land at a police station right away, and will be questioned for hours. And suddenly, he approaches us with a great speed, unbuttons his jacket, exposes his tie full of safety pins, and says: Gentlemen, me too!
Tomek Lipinski: The variety of outfits was huge, as there was no punk uniform. Some went for ugliness - safety pins, chains, half-shaved heads. Others opted for the cosmic look - overalls, shiny costumes, make-up. And the rest chose the 50s agent style - raincoats, narrow ties, dark glasses. Personally, I preferred two styles of wear. At the Rembertowo market, I used to buy clothes from before the war. This was the smart dressing, yet, always with a hint of neglect. On the other hand, I loved the overalls. I owned one, willow-green-coloured - it was exactly what the PKS workers used to wear. Burning red jacket and hot pink hair were the accessories (I got the hair dye from the Raincoats). Besides, little badges were very fashionable, and in most cases, they were simply self-made.

Summer 1978: On the catwalk with Konstancja. 'Catwalk' was the name for the Old Town district in Warsaw. In the Hortex garden (Hortex was a chain of coffee-shops, known for the best ice-cream desserts in the country), future ZBOWiD PP members used to hang out. There was coffee, ice cream with gone-off strawberries, and no alcohol what, by the way, was no problem for us, as we didn't use any booze (drunks were the 'system people'). Konstancja Julia Ostoja Radogost Uniechowska (the daughter of the drawer, Antoni Uniechowski) invented the 'catwalk' name, and just at her place the Warsaw punks from the "tilter" option often used to meet. The punk outfit and spiky hair looked rather awkward in that flat full of antiques, and knick-knacks including a Turkish drum, and a unicorn horn. Konstancja's mother, a great woman loved by all, tolerated the guests with a dignity. Her friend whom we often met there, an illustrator and horror enthusiast Franciszek "Byk" Starowieyjski, was trying to convince the youngsters that he knew some real London punks, and that they were much better than us wearing jackets with loads of pins in them to hurt a potential aggressor. In this terrific house, Konstancja ran a salon for punks, where all the frustrated ones could finally feel like the real avant-garde men.

November '78: Deadlock, Speedboats, and German Bitches in Gdansk. Deadlock was a legendary band that for some, for instance Kazik, had an equal meaning to Brygada Kryzys. Dreadlock was a concert phenomenon, the only of its kind... says Kazik, ...The band would make a whole mystery out of a club gig, even though they could hardly play the instruments...

Autumn-Winter '78: KSU and Fornit. In Ustrzyki Dolne, a band called KSU was formed. In Warsaw, Pawel Kelner started Fornit. As he wrote in "Pasazer" magazine: Three chords and go... When we were to play our first gig at my high school, Misiek (the drummer) not only could barely play, but on that day he wasn't able to do it at all. So instead of him, we asked an old, bald whinger from a local band to perform with us, and he really rocked the house.

Spring '79: Warsaw-Gdansk-Warsaw. Operating along the Polish Coast group of Franz, Konstancja, Rastaman, and others met the Gdansk crew. And among the Gdansk crew were members of Dreadlock, Maciek Rudy, Mr. Rose, Luter, Szymon, and Marek Paliniak, Gary Hell. After many adventures, of which some were hilarious, some were not (e.g. at police stations), a strong group arrived at the PRL (Polish People's Republic) capital.

1979 and later: At a police station. The destination of our frequent, but unwanted visits was called "pit". The instructors, i.e. police officers, were lecturing their inferiors that a new kind of system enemies had emerged. They were not "gits", neither anti-socialist factors, but some kind of new, dangerous working classes' enemy. The punks were fascists, and could be distinguished by feminine jewellery they wore. One could land in the "pit" because of an earring, lack of an ID, or other little offences. The policemen tried to scare us; sometimes they beat us up with their bats. The "pit" halt was 24 hours long, and now and then it could last twice as long - the so-called "four-eight".

April '79: PP in Warsaw. The Boors (i.e. early Kryzys) concert and Adam & Smoki in Anin, were thought of as the beginnings of Polish punk scene. And so was the Liars gig (including Kazik), with songs by Buzzcocks, Clash, and Magazine as "the band from Manchester" (which was really playing the April Fool, but the audience bought it).
Brylewski: We played in Anin, 'cause Mrowa's (Irek Mrowianski - ed.) mother was the director of a local Youth Club. The place was very far away, and it was quite hard to get there, yet, the venue was really great because we could throw a party for 40 people in a room of 100 capacity. During the gigs, we often heard a Russian speaker coming through the music and thought it to be some kind of a provocation... but the radio waves were simply brought up by the fuzz clash.

July '79: Luban. "Music Camping" where Dreadlock and Kryzys played instruments borrowed from Krystyna Pronko.
Pawel Kelner: The guy who at the beginning promised to let us perform, later changed his mind. We never knew why... Everybody got really mad. And Luter who stammered came up to him and said: Yyyyyou are a pppppprick.
Later on, there were fights between the audience and the bouncers who practically were no different from the cops.

Summer '79: Maciek Rudy. The Dreadlock guitarist, man of a great talent and melancholic tendencies. Maciek and Konstancja left for Amsterdam to breathe the air of freedom. Just after coming back to Warsaw, together with Franz and Luter, they founded an ephemeral combo called Deadlock. Later it was renamed The Artists. The visit to the capital city was not good for Maciek. He went back to Gdansk, and shortly after died tragically.

1979 earlier and later: Amsterdam. Everybody knows what kind of a city it is. Just like nowadays, A'dam was a psychodelic base for various groups and movements. There were always some close or distant friends of ours staying there. And they often posted little packages to their oppressed sisters and brothers in PRL. From the city of canals, Warsaw psychodelic "tilters" were obtaining acid, i.e. LSD.

14 September '79: The Artists' rehearsal. This down-to-earth name was invented for the Warsaw-Gdansk band that consisted of Maciek and Luter from Deadlock, as well as Franz from Warsaw, and finally Rastaman playing the bass-guitar. One month later, the already successful name Deadlock was tested along others. In November 1979 the band held a rehearsal under a new name - Tilt.

30 October '79: Rolling papers. Such diary notes signify it was extremely hard to get those kinds of things.

10 October '79: The Tilt gig in Ursynek club. The first concert of this legendary formation took place in this small, grimy venue situated in far South of Warsaw. We attended such gigs in a group, hoping that clustered we would remain untouched, as punk rock was a new formula arousing a lot of aggression among local people. And this is just how it used to be in Ursynek, the SZSP (Socialist Union of Polish Education) club of Agricultural Academy. The future farmers, expecting a traditional country-dance party, were trying to clamour over the poor sound with roars that made the punk rockers jealous. Not quite aware of the event historic importance, they decided to beat the crap out of the music avant-garde. My clearest memories of the Ursynek night out are muddy bushes through which we were sneaking out of the place, all surrounded by darkness and powered by a vision of daggers and prehistoric Slavic flails.
Lipinski: It was 1 a.m. when we finally got onto the stage. Awfully stoned, we played a wild concert for the boozing jazz lovers. That night, Alek Korecki who joined the new edition of Tilt in mid-80's heard us playing for the first time. And he really liked it. We were also invited by Wladek Rudziecki to the first New Wave Festival in Torun.

28 November 1979: Tilt concert in Remont. The south-Warsaw events caused an immediate nerve centre reaction - the first punk concert in Remont. It was a real success. Glass-windows cracked under the crowd pressure. The disorientated bouncers - filthy punks' fanatic enemies - lost their guts in the face of the punk crew. Anti-tilter shouts were risen by our future friends, heavy music voided all rules, a generous amount of spit rewarded the band for its show (back then spitting was a form of a shy kiss). As an unbreakable hygienist, Tomek Rastaman had a special container filled with water that he used to pour over the spitting fans (Easter Monday tradition).
Brylewski: Anti-tilters shouts? People didn't get it, but it simply was a performance. Everything was arranged. Maciek Goralski, whose favourite outfits were smart, checked jackets, for Tilt concerts would dress up in a weird cap and leather, all covered with metal chains. And as soon as the light went off, he would yell: Tilt - go home. Bring Kryzys in! Obviously everybody knew that it was Goralski shouting, therefore, nobody paid attention to him. We were all mates and often drank wine together...
Tomek Rastaman. Rastek aka Prince Michal or Misiu, was also called Czyscioch. For his excessive tidiness and faultless outfits, he was the unusual pillar of the Tilt trio. The untiring pioneer of reggae music along the Wisla River, the Tilt bass-guitar player, he possessed a used copy of the Holy Bible that, at the same time, served as a safe for rolling papers and "Bongo leaves". Thanks to him crowds of Poles learned of such essential dread-men as Ras Michael (Rastek's relative), Prince Far I, Count Ossie, and BMW ("I love Bob Marley on BMW and Harley..."), as well as about Jamaican disco with lyrics like "Why, why, why, why, your pussy sweet so?" Tomek surely enriched the bass-playing technique - he put Nivea cream on the strings and neck. Just to make them softer to fingers..."

December '79: Concert in Torun. Waldek Rudziecki was the first one from the music industry that got really interested in punk. As the director of Torun SZSP club, he invited Tilt for two gigs of which only one happened. But this time, the audience that consisted of disgusted Paul McCartney's fans ineffectively tried to out-shout the music. Encounters with the spectators also took place, and later the band gave their first interview to the student radio station called Piernik (or Kopernik). Years later ZBOWiD bought this tape because of short, three-, four-, and five-lettered words, that were the basic content of all answers given to Piernik intelligent speakers' questions.

8 December '79: Gdansk, Luter. Luter aka Lutek or Babka (because of his ill-looking posture), the drummer, author of many hit lyrics for Tilt, publisher of Pasazer and Papier Bialych Wulkanow magazines. The description 'devilishly intelligent' suited him just fine. This contestant and ironist gave form to many pioneering punk-rock events. To Warsaw Luter came as a seasoned-with-fights senior of the Trojmiasto (i.e. the treble city of Gdynia, Sopot, Gdansk) scene. At the concerts he would play borrowed drums with the thickest sticks often making holes in them. He wrote his lyrics in English claiming that this language is the proper one for punk-rock music. Some of them were the best lyrics of his times. Occupying Francuz's garret, during the rehearsals he used to play an old suitcase. He was a favourite subject of police raids and the "two-four" and "four-eight" coming-downs.
Lipinski: Luter was expelled from high school in Gdansk, and then moved to Warsaw. He arrived as a hollow-cheeked teenager from Gdansk. His mother came from a wealthy middle-class family. Apparently, Teofil Lenartowicz was some kind of Luter's distant relative. Extremely intelligent, tremendously gifted for music and literature, and totally nuts at the same time. But beside his entire craziness, he was a really down-to-earth man. Now, he writes scripts and is two times fatter than he used to be back then - I saw him myself.

15 December 1979: Tilt concert in the "Studio" Theatre. Punk rock in the Warsaw Palace of Culture and Science, the symbol of Babylon. The "Studio" Gallery director decided to embellish the event by organising a photo-exhibition showing "real London punks". As the band's leader, together with Henio Gajewski, I convinced the nice director that Tilt was nothing more than just an innocent group of contesting high-school students. Crowds arrived at the concert, and at first the musicians were afraid to stick their heads from behind the curtain. The audience was as agitated as an ocean before storm. In the end, Tilt gave a breath-taking performance and afterwards, Jozef Szajna, the "Studio" director, appeared and personally stood on the enthusiastic fans' way to get onto the stage. At last, he ordered the power cut-off, and the music stopped. We later celebrated this great success at the Central Station - since where else!

The 70's: Central Station. After 10pm only those who despised dances would go there. There was no money to spare for the "elite dirt". Thanks to the Station, we could eat cheep bar meals, and, what's the most important, stayed in constant touch with the falling socialism reality. And with local bums and MO-men, of course...

1980 and earlier, and later: Tomkalski. A wicked-as-hell punk rocker is who he used to be. At times when punks' solitary walks were not such a good idea, Tomkalski aka Men would stroll down e.g. Brodno fun fair, wearing green hair, the uniform, and his face covered with white paint. One would never come back unhurt from such escapades! After sax rehearsals that usually took place at the Girls' (because of the neighbours and their fellow MO-men), Men used to play for various bands, including Tilt.

8 August 1980: KSU and Poland. 1st New Wave Festival in the Army Amphitheatre. It must have been a punk rock zenith. Almost all bands played on one stage, their often-fictional quarrels melted from the heat of the event. German Sound magazine representatives were also present. Particularly fascinated by the KSU band, famous for their Ukraine origins, UPA membership, and backpacks full of guns and explosives, they later wrote a considerable feature on Polish punk scene. The fear of armed KSU kept the bouncers quiet, what in a way minimised the destruction. After the 3-day-long event, part of the crew left for Gdansk and stayed there longer than planned - for the strike in Stocznia. And in Ustrzyki Dolne, along KSU, a band called Poland with Kazimierz Starzewski as the leader made its debut. We had no rehearsals, the bass-player held his guitar for the first time in his life and accords were all he could play. The drummer didn't know what to do at all, and served us a solo after solo. The guitar-player, that we earlier asked to really kick the asses, played his folk tunes, and me - I was screaming as hell, remembers Kazik.

Also in summer 1980: Kryzys (later renamed Romans Kryzysu, as a new-wave option) and its concert successes. Brylewski explained it in this way: The name, also accepted by Maciek Goralski, was invented by Marek Wiernik who, at that time, struggled to write about punk rock to different publications but somehow was afraid, especially of using the word "Kryzys". Maciek "Guru" Goralski was a strong intellectual motor of the band, as well as of the rest of the Warsaw scene. He had broad contacts among foreign music industry individuals, and was well informed of all the latest trends and happenings abroad. Just like Francuz, he was a propaganda man.
Brylewski: We met him at the Hybrydy record market, he was part of a band called New Bitels that played The Beatles covers. Goralski wanted to work for us and because he wrote excellent lyrics, we agreed. He knew all the good bits in literature and gave us plenty ideas, e.g. Kafka's 'Trial'. Inspired by the book, we later wrote an identically titled song. We were sitting in a joint in Luban when a young, dorky-looking bloke sat with us - a rich parents' daft kid. He looked at us and said: What are you doing here? Writing punk-rock lyrics? I'll tell you what a proper punk-rock lyric should go like - Fuck you! Fuck you! Fuck you! This incident shows pretty clearly how differently various groups saw the whole idea of the movement.

November 1980: New Wave Festival in Torun. Playing: Tilt, Kryzys, Deadlock, Kanal, Poland, and many more. It was accompanied by some performances in Maria Dabrowska High School, where Andy Warhol Interview formation - an organism founded by a happener and situationer named Andrzej Zuzak (today in Norway) - was presenting its programme.
Brylewski: There was a huge scene in Torun initiated by Dolar (Wladek Rudnicki - ed.). He organised some new wave reviews, punk concerts, and was an exceptionally energetic activist. Together with Kryzys, in one year we played about 20 gigs in Torun only. Before, we had played at a market and Kazik Staszewski was using a spray-can and while playing, he sprayed the passers-by...

December 1980: Deuter. Pawel Kelner and Kamil Stoor founded a formation called Deuter, one of the biggest PP concert attraction, known for its "music nihilism", i.e. poor skills of playing instruments. Therefore, their studio recordings sounded much less interesting than their live music. Pawel's lyrics were very sharp and attacked the political system, often with unrefined words. Just as Tilt, Kelner put some Bible citation into his lyrics. The Old Testament trend in PP song writing soon became a reggae explosion and famous "Wisla Nyabinghi".

1981: Duck Pipe. "Dzadza", "Natty dread is taking over", "duck pipe", "dread-in-a-Babylon", "natty faja's berning rajt" and similar phrases were proofs of a permanent Caribbean Islands influence on our country.
Lipnski: In a situation where the whole world around us was burning, and this was the Martial Law, people always looked for the remedy inside themselves and the spirit matters became more important than usually. For the renegades that we were, this entire Rastafarian concept was undergoing some kind of a materialisation. Babylon as the Soviet empire, etc. The mid-80's reggae popularity is quite understandable. I personally was a bit on the side and even though reggae had always been some kind of an inspiration for me, I couldn't really get into it. The availability of Cannabis had also something to do with it.

1981: Beautiful Izabella. PP is attacking, the establishment and the system is defending. As a deceitful medicine for the rebellion of "young generation in need to revel", Izabella Trojanowska was applied. The girl was quite good looking, however, the deceit failed.

February 1981: "Post Remont". Galeria "Remont" located in the club was a PP contact point, and was renamed "Post Remont". It was to be opened all day long for anybody who had something interesting to offer. Everything was about popularising the place and, at the same time, departing from the avant-garde elitism to market space where one could display and sell various goods such as T-shirts, tapes, fanzines, etc. Henryk, Francuz, and myself used to publish a mag under the same name. I don't think we knew about the postmodernism back then, but we were sure the "post" had already arrived. In reality, the thin years were still to come.

9 April 1981: Milo and Amok. Together and apart, they were both gentlemen and PH representatives (PH - former formation of Polish Hippies). It didn't change the fact that they were very popular among punk-rockers, even against the rule not to trust a "Hippie".Milo, a solid participant of Polish music life, Osjan member, sometimes played with Tilt or Kryzys, especially in the band's Caribbean version. Amok, with Andrzej Zuzak and Krazy Karol, occasionally performed in Hybrydy as a post-hippie para-punk formation. Today, Mr. Milo Kurtis composes new music and scenic variation, while Andrzej Turczynowicz is now a famous macrobiotic and a shiat-su specialist.

12 December 1981: Party at Marianki. Our friend, Marianka Natanson chose a terrific date for that December little party. Marianka's parents were located at my flat in Dolne Ubowo, and the show went on... Franz, Afek Brylewski, and Kelner, they all were there. And if I remember correctly, Konstancja and Rastek as well... And in the morning, there was a surprise waiting for us.

1982: Dreadlock and Kryzys records. Released in England and France without the musicians' authorisation. There was a French punk-rocker around with some connection to a French band - in effect, he took the recordings abroad and then did what he wanted with them. Robert Brylewski evaluated the incident as a "sad defeat", while for others it was a "prestige success". The recordings offended with poor quality and, naturally, the band members didn't received a penny. Brylewski: This album, just like the London edition, was more of a document rather than an ordinary album. The material was recorded during a concert we played with Perfect. We used their equipment, and the soundman didn't care enough to move a fader, 'cause everything was set up for Perfect. The only track I was, and still am, happy with is Dolina Lalek. The whole record was also a kind of proof that everything can be done without Tonpress and other local decision-makers. We were the first band that broke out from the set-up.

Still 1982: Brygada Kryzys. The merging of two legendary bands, Kryzys and Tilt. Soon there would be a "black album" released, closing this stage of Polish PP history.
Brylewski: I went for a beer with Tomek, and when we got back, I announced that we were going to form a new band, then pointed at those who I wanted to join us. We wanted to make a concrete music - not with lyrics about spring love and girls wearing dresses, but dealing with what was going on in our country at that time, i.e. strikes, demonstrations, etc.
Lipinski: Tilt split in 1980. Kryzys still existed because they joined the Capital Concert Hall. It meant that Jacek Olechowski, minister Andrzej's brother, was in the business, and he decided to help Kryzys out. One day Robert Brylewski and Jarek "Gruszka" Ptasinski came to me and suggested that we formed a band together. I liked that idea. The agency made just one condition - we had to keep the name Kryzys. I couldn't say yes, so came up with a solution to name the band Brygada Kryzys.
The "black album" was recorded at the beginning of the Marital Law, just when the band's equipment was sealed in Remont club. It turned out later that Tonpress was opening a new studio, and that it had to be tested.
Lipinski: Jacek Olechowski got us in there. Absolute cosmos. Suddenly, we all got passes to move freely about the town after the police curfew, for three months we sit in the studio, we have no time limitations and lots of wicked people to work with. Kuba Nowakowski and Witek Palacz released in us some unexpected music-creation abilities. Marek Proniewicz, who at that time worked for Tonpress, contributed to the new rock music popularisation, and since the material had been already recorded, he chose to release it...

1982: At the catwalk. The Old City district looked somehow empty and, like all the catwalks in different cities, within the next two years it would get even emptier. Half of the crew went abroad, the police drove all the mates. Later, there were some bands, and concerts, riots, some records, and music concerns, some contracts. For the show must go on...
Yet, I'm closing the course with the ZBOWiD members' short motto: Polish punk rock was cool, who doesn't believe it is a fool.