(photo by @ benbaumes, found via @ kpissfm on iG)
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New & Out Now on Nuns Like To Fence: T.E.A.M. and Husky Youth

Left to right: Cory Davolos and Mike Apichella of T.E.A.M.; photo by Joi Eichert taken in Columbus, Ohio circa April 2018
Cover art from the recently released e.p. by Husky Youth. Though the only existent recordings of this group came from the mid-90’s, this e.p. is the quartet’s first formerly released record.

Just in time for Bandcamp Friday, two great new releases from Nuns Like To Fence have come out today. The 2018 debut full length from recently reformed Towson-Glen Arm band T.E.A.M. came out originally as a limited edition release on KMAN 92.5. It went out of print years ago and has now been digitally reissued by Nuns. Here’s where you can download and stream the album:


You can read the story behind T.E.A.M.’s reformation (an event nearly a quarter century in the making) and learn more about the group’s 2018 recordings here:



TGAF gave the Husky Youth saga a deep dive last year in a two part story titled “Saw Off Your Manhood”. Husky Youth were one of the most popular Towson-Glen Arm bands ever. Their meteoric rise and fall combined gender bending drama, mall punks, violence, authoritarian villains and the riot grrrl movement. Their work offers strange insights into a remote political/cultural moment that remains controversial to this day. Their wild music is a perfect counterpart for their wild story.

If you loved that story, or if you just love anti-machismo and grungy 90’s noise-punk, then you owe it to yourself to stream and download a copy of the self-titled four song e.p. from Husky Youth, a series of songs put to tape between 1995 and 1996, but never before released until now.

The original mixdowns of this e.p. recieved post-production and mastering from illustrious Baltimore producer Jordan Romero well known for his work on the many awesome lo-fi pop records that have come out on the Weather Patterns and Coin Dolphin labels (including the debut album from Bubble Wand which also came out today).

You can stream and download the Husky Youth e.p. here:


Keeping the TGA flame: Cory Davolos of T.E.A.M.; photo by Joi Eichert, taken in Columbus, Ohio circa April 2018
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Excerpts from ‘Sequel’ (1997)

Whenever a new post goes up here I try to give TGA’s ephemera and creative work more than a little analysis, historical context, and personal insight. For this one I’m mostly going to let the work featured speak for itself.

The 1997 edition of Dulaney High School’s Sequel literary magazine was the greatest school-supported anthology of Towson-Glen Arm writing and graphic design ever published. The excerpts below reveal that much of its content was informed by the more mystical side of the TGA perspective. (Even the essay on science teacher David Phoebus is essentially one giant poetic dive into the strange symbiosis of philosophy, mythology, psychology, art, and science).

1997 was the final year of TGA’s most fertile five year period. Perhaps Sequel ’97’s mystical nature is evidence of the fact that these creators (many of whom were about to graduate high school) were heading towards an ambiguous turning point. Whatever the case, the TGA artists illuminated this publication with grace, irreverence, and (as always) a weird expansive view unencumbered by any polarized dynamic.    

Page 24 of the 1997edition of the Sequel student literary magazine; originally published by Dulaney High School (all excerpts from this magazine appear here courtesy of Greg Storms)

Page 24 of the 1997edition of the Sequel student literary magazine; originally published by Dulaney High School (all excerpts from this magazine appear here courtesy of Greg Storms)

Sequel 1997 Page 18

Sequel 1997 Page 19

Sequel 1997 Page 54

Sequel 1997 Page 55

Sequel 1997 Page 56

Sequel 1997 Page 57

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SAW OFF YOUR MANHOOD: Part 2 – The Rise & Fall Of Husky Youth

Husky Youth performing live at their first show – Scott Gilmore’s House in Hunt Valley, Md., Labor Day 1994. Left to right: Chris Teret, Lou Thomas, and Scott Gilmore (Doug Hammond is just out of frame; his guitar’s head stock is visible at the far left). This and 2 other shots from this show are the only known photos of the band.

Charles Mross II was a student at the Carver Center arts magnet school in Towson. Mross became close with Lou Thomas and many other TGA artists just as Lou had transferred from Towson High to Carver at the end of 1994. Husky Youth’s formation occurred at roughly the same time.

Charles Mross II: “I first knew of Lou Thomas at Dumbarton Middle School. He was notable for wearing his top hat with a holly spring in the band, and his unique and frequently heard laughter. I admired Lou instantly. He was already so talented artistically and musically.

At that time Lou seemed tight with Dave Wilemain, Chris Teret, and Bob Phair. I was a year behind them in class and light years behind them in socializing, so they seemed… unapproachable, but they seemed like really cool goofballs.

I attended my freshman year (1993-’94) at Towson High… our orbits came closer as (we) made mutual friends there…

Towson High School… that place just felt bleak and dismal… they operated more like wardens than educators. I do remember being bothered by teachers and staff if I had to go from one place to another during class (bathroom, nurse’s office, copy machine, etc.) even if I had a hall pass. It felt like guards and inmates… All high schoolers feel like school is prison, but once I was able to compare the setting (to) Carver, Towson High REALLY did feel like some youth holding facility.

…overall I felt the staff’s passion/morale was shit. The difference (at Carver) was breathtaking…”

Inevitably the totalitarian dynamics created a tense atmosphere – a prime breeding ground for machismo and violence.

Chris Teret – founding member of Husky Youth : “…the jocks were definitely the target of Husky Youth lyrics, along with patriarchy in general… There was definitely a “jocks vs. freaks” thing going on, but the freaks in that case were not us. They were a darker, more intense crew of goths and mall punks who did more drugs and were more violent. On the day that there was supposed to be a jocks vs freaks war (at Towson High School), one of them got expelled for having an axe under his coat. Another one tried to burn down the school several times. This was all before school shootings started, of course. I do remember one time (at THS) getting punched in the stomach walking down the stairs for no reason…

Husky Youth came out of the fact that we were all very into the culture around riot grrrl music, and as teenage boys we were pretty awkward about trying to navigate the tricky waters of being allies in the struggle. We were trying to figure out what it would mean for us to apply the lessons of riot grrrl to our experiences as boys… it was a mix of sincerity and irony that came out. Me and Lou were also really into this slogan that The Residents (coined), ‘Ignorance of your culture is not considered cool.’ I remember Lou coming up to me at a show around the time In Utero by Nirvana came out, and he invoked that slogan and told me that In Utero was pretty good. It was a heavy statement because we were so profoundly snobby about only liking music that nobody else liked, and it opened a door for me. I still love that album.”

Lou Thomas : “I remember hanging out with Doug (Hammond), and riot grrrl was all the rage. I was really into Bratmobile at the time. We were half-joking, and we said we should form a ‘riot boy’ band and sing songs about how hard it is to be a boy and stuff, like how mean jocks are and the social pressures of masculinity, very half tongue-in-cheek. We were all into riot grrrl, but we happened to be boys, who were also into being ironic and iconoclastic. I am a little embarrassed by it today, but in the scheme of things, (it was) fairly harmless.”

Doug Hammond had been a veteran of several noisy lo-fi Towson rock bands before forming Husky Youth with Teret, Thomas, and Scott Gilmore. Hammond had a unique approach to rock and a deeper appreciation for that music than his band mates. These were some of the main elements that gave the group its signature sound.

Chris Teret: “As far as Doug Hammond goes, I don’t know, he’s got his own trajectory in the universe…he’s almost like a freight train that you can hop on and ride for a while…playing in a band with him, staying at his apartment in LA (in the early 2000’s), then he came to see me in Paris, France one time…”

Charles Mross II: “Doug was and is one of a kind… (He) had charisma like the sun has light. There was a degree of emulating Beck, but whatever he may have taken he made his own… Doug seemed perpetually performing AND perpetually authentic… Silly and fun… energetic and melancholy.”

Doug Hammond: “…some of us went to see Bikini Kill at the Black Cat (in summer ’94) and it made quite an impression. And some of the early records by bands like Huggy Bear and Bratmobile were a big part of my life at that time. That music still means a lot to me today.

I don’t think we ever really thought of ourselves as a grunge band though there were clearly some of those elements in our music. One of the driving forces behind the band was the desire to be — for lack of a better term — a “riot boy” band. In essence, taking some of the same issues and political ideas that the riot grrrl movement was addressing but tackling them from a male perspective. I should clarify that we didn’t consider what we were doing to be an ‘answer’ to the riot grrrl question. We were big fans of that whole scene, but it was also clear to us that patriarchy has a negative effect on boys and men and is not something that’s only harmful to women, girls and other marginalized people. To put it in more current terms, you could say that we aspired to be allies for the riot grrrl movement.”

Lou Thomas: “We were talking to Scott (Gilmore) about the idea, and he mentioned he was a bit overweight as a kid, and his parents had to buy him clothes sized “husky”. We thought it was funny, that clothes would be labeled with something somewhat insulting like that, and someone thought of “Husky Youth” and we thought it was both catchy and represented the idea of marginalized boys.

I had been really into grunge, particularly Mudhoney’s Superfuzz/Bigmuff in middle school, but as I said, the original idea was ‘riot boy’, not grunge (even if we did sound more grunge in the end, and had other off-genre songs like the Husky Youth theme, which was a joke-riff off the Beastie Boys’ ‘Sabotage’ – a very popular video at the time. Doug’s rapping on the song still holds up). We all wrote the songs… the other guys wrote more of the lyrics… The music was definitely less of a joke than say the F.G.’s*, and had some grunge-ish pop sensibilities to it. I think the main distinction was that Doug (Hammond) was hot, and could act and sing, so when he was fronting the songs we sounded and looked more like a more conventional band, and our songs had more conventional pop/punk verse/chorus/verse structures…” 

Doug Hammond: “To be completely frank, I think it’s something that likely started from a dumb joke, like “why aren’t there riot boy bands?” But aside from any initial “jokiness” of the premise, our intent was very much sincere. And we were probably careful not to refer to ourselves like that publicly because we didn’t want people to think we were disparaging of the riot grrrl thing at all. It might have sounded as if we were mocking the idea, so even now the thought of even defining ourselves as “riot boys” makes me cringe a little.”

Lou Thomas: “…the half-joke aspect to the whole thing got in the way of any nascent idealism. I wouldn’t say there was a conscious choice to do something that purposefully broadened the audience, per se. But I would say, Bob (Phair) and Dave (Wilemain) and I – especially in 8th grade and somewhat in 9th grade (1990 / ’91 / ’92) – used to go see The Piltdown Men** and other local high school (and slightly older) bands, and they could pack the Towson Armory or the Govan’s Church Hall with these all-ages shows (other bands I recall who played these: Fifth Column, Red Dye #9, Sick…), and even though my musical taste had become both more experimental and punk-influenced by the time of Husky Youth, the energy at those shows had been awesome, so I knew that was a realistic possibility, and I missed that energy of the larger crowd… Husky Youth did seem to almost recreate that energy with some of our shows.”

Husky Youth, l-r : Doug Hammond, Chris Teret, Scott Gilmore, and Lou Thomas

Husky Youth was an instant hit among Baltimore County’s mall punks and grunge rockers. They packed them in at high profile shows throughout the greater Baltimore all ages scene with some of their biggest gigs occurring at the Fellowship Hall at The Church Of The Holy Redeemer , a Battle Of The Bands competition at the Catholic high school Gilman, and several gigs at west Baltimore’s infamous DIY venue The Loft. Their performances and recordings were feedback/fuzz encrusted blasts aimed at megalomaniacal jocks and fascist machismo. Their chaotic anti-hierarchical splendor was unleashed in songs like “Pretty Boy”, “You Thought I Was Famous”, and “Spur Posse Rock”, a protest anthem that eviscerated a dangerous gang of priviledged teenage boys who were responsible for some of the 1990’s most heinous sex crimes.

Along with overt knods to the riot grrrl sound, a carefully chosen list of cover tunes culled from the trendy 90’s rock canon filled out their sets and gave their new, younger audience a familiar reference point – a smooth transition for their raw distorted original material. This included Beck’s “Fume” (an experimental B-side that was in many ways a blueprint for the heavier elements of HY’s noise driven hard rock), L7’s “Andre”, Radiohead’s “Creep”, and Weezer’s “Undone (The Sweater Song)”. The latter three tunes were often played in a dramatic medley that served as the climax for many Husky Youth live sets.

Lou Thomas: “…it was younger middle-school kids and other kids we didn’t know as well that were really into Husky Youth. I think someone wrote our band name on their binder or jacket or the like. That was ‘the year punk broke’, and Nirvana had gone mainstream, Sonic Youth was on a major label, etc., and so some of those younger kids at Towson and Dumbarton (and elsewhere) were into Husky Youth…. I remember wishing our friends liked us more, but I didn’t think it was a bad thing that people we didn’t know liked our music, quite the contrary.”


A Towson High School yearbook photo showing Cathleen Brooks circa 1995 (courtesy of William Jones)

In 1994 Cathleen Brooks was a transfer student who came to Towson High from the DC suburbs. She quickly became steeped in the local mall punk culture that defined Husky Youth’s fan base. Much like Husky Youth themselves, Brooks created controversy within the TGA scene, but was also one of the movement’s most vocal and enthusiastic proponents.

Cathleen Brooks: “So there I was, I was 16, all my friends were back in Montgomery County, I was an art magnet kid who could no longer go to an art magnet school because Carver Center didn’t take transfer students, I was listening to a ton of riot grrrl music and Dischord Records bands…

I was a wee bit naive… I was a wrecking ball…… I eventually had a raging drug problem for awhile.

Joe Willy from The Scrambled Eggs *** lived down the street from me – we rode the same school bus. The guys in that band eventually adopted me and eventually took me to some shows.

Doug (from Husky Youth) was a year ahead of me in school and was a cute boy that played interesting music. Doug was both my crush and my best friend. I hung out with alotta the guys because I just wasn’t “L Crew” material [more info on “The L Crew” soon – TGAF]. I wrote zines and I was trying to bring riot grrrl to Baltimore as an organization but (that idea) quickly died over riot boys!

I was in favor of letting the boys in because if you don’t change men how the fuck are you supposed to change society as a whole? (The L Crew) thought it would make other girls feel uncomfortable. I argued pretty hard for letting guys in if they really had their heart into it. I get it more now, but at the time it made me walk away. We had an organizational meeting and that’s when I dropped out of the conversation…”

Even though the grungey mall punks embraced them immediately, Lou Thomas’ new/genteel art student friends weren’t as open to Husky Youth’s populist approach.

Charles Mross II: “My first real introduction to Lou was the through the art teacher Terry McDaniel. When I transferred to Carver halfway through my sophomore year she made the introduction and Lou invited me to a (Husky Youth) show at The Loft to meet a’lot of Carver kids right before I arrived at the school. Lou instantly treated me like an old pal, introduced me to a ton of people who became “my people” at Carver…

…(Husky Youth) were more spastic than I expected… songs would change on you quick… More than any actual music or shows, I certainly remember them as a Towson High cultural event.”

Another band who performed at this concert was the Catonsville, Md.-based indie rock band Yard Sale.

Charles Mross II: “Yard Sale brought many of the Carver/Catonsville kids Lou had brought me to meet.”

Chris Teret: “…once we played a show, I believe with the band Yard Sale. We borrowed their drum set, and at the end of our set, I jumped into the drums (just like Kurt Cobain). The drummer was understandably pissed and totally confused. I, on the other hand, was confused about why he was bothered by it…”

Charles Mross II: “I do remember Chris jumping into the drums which was surprising to me because Chris always seemed fierce but meek… (Yard Sale drummer Trevor Murray) jumped on stage to stop him from continuing… that event kind of soured the end of Husky Youth’s performance that night which, after hearing about them so much, was dissappointing…”

With this incident Husky Youth proved that they were unable to strike a balance between pop spectacles and political correctness. Their progressive message was getting buried under mainstream rock theatrics. While this caused only temporary drama between the TGA movement and the Catonsville indie rockers, it caused deeper rifts within Towson-Glen Arm itself.

Lou Thomas: “…one thing that comes to mind with Husky Youth is the tepid reaction of some of our friends, particularly The L Crew: Lauren McCuaig, Liz Bishop, Stephanie Rabins, Laura Burke and Laura Oster, Beach Carey, Abby Anzalone. They were all really into riot grrrl and the zine culture surrounding that, much more than Doug and I were, and I think they were rightfully a little annoyed by our pretense. That crew was also all really smart and intellectual.”

An ad for Lauren MacCuaig’s L Crew zine ‘Pussy Cat Vision’; this originally appeared in the first issue of ‘Hell Cat’, a zine created and published by MacCuaig’s fellow Crew members Laura Burke and Lara Oster. (courtesy of Laura Burke)
The front cover of ‘Pussy Cat Vision’ number 2. Its main design motif (a crime scene photo of a mutilated, murdered woman) exemplifies the serious tone that was prominent in L Crew zines. (courtesy of Lauren MacCuaig)

Laura Burke and Abby Anzalone were part of The L Crew, a group of teenage radical feminists whose creative work (mainly zines) formed Towson-Glen Arm’s strongest connection to the riot grrrl movement.

Laura Burke: “…Husky Youth… I only vaguely remember laughing at them for starting a “riot boy” band, but I think that our feeling at the time was that the Riot Grrrl movement (unlike any other alternative/punk scene) was girl/women owned and having boys start a riot boy band was  a form of appropriation.   

I think what felt like an appropriate supportive response at the time was to support girls’ bands and feminist causes and provide space for female voices… it’s pretty cool that there were teenage boys around who cared and made music about feminist causes, but… the term “riot boy” turned us off…”

Abby Anzalone: “I remember Husky Youth as a band of boys who were talking about eating disorders at a time when girls were talking a lot about body image and eating disorders. (They) were like, “Hey, boys have these problems too!”… Looking back it almost seems like a men’s rights group of fourteen year olds who had been beaten down by feminism… and decided to take stand…”

Mild mannered art students and radical feminists weren’t the only ones who took issue with Husky Youth. In early 1995 Preschoolers’ founders/ex-Nudists members Dave Willemain & Bob Phair joined forces with Julia Kim to create and publish ‘Mochi’, a satirical zine that criticized what they viewed as the rampant populism and self-righteousness that was causing the scene to become fractured just as Husky Youth and The TGAUC rose to prominence. This was a coup for many reasons, the biggest one being the fact that Husky Youth’s Chris Teret was also the guitar player of The Preschoolers (Excerpts from ‘Mochi’ will appear in a future update to this piece).

Despite the controversy, when Husky Youth finally split their break up occurred due to most of the same things that ended plenty of other Towson-Glen Arm projects.

Doug Hammond: “Chris and Scott were probably the most politically active and engaged… Lou perhaps a bit less so. Myself, probably the least. As much as I have strong opinions about political and social issues, I’ve never been especially motivated as far as “organizing” goes. So out of the four of us… As much as that scene was a big part of my life then, I was never someone who was all that motivated to expand the group or build alliances, however formal or informal.

As far as our accomplishments go, I’m rather proud of what we did with Husky Youth, even if it was short-lived and not very well documented.”

Creative differences were a big influence on Husky Youth’s demise; group reaction to Lou Thomas’ composition “Brandy” was a perfect illustration of these.

Chris Teret: ” ‘Brandy’–that’s an interesting one… I think it was controversial within the band because of the lyrics. In it Lou sings about Brandy… “she was a model in magazines” and “I could’ve gone to the dance with the pretty girl”. I think the rest of us felt like it didn’t go with our anti-sexist theme. If I remember right, Lou argued that we should not be puritanical and that we needed to celebrate sexuality as long as it was not coercive. In retrospect, as usual, I think Lou was right.”

Doug Hammond: “I don’t recall exactly when we called it quits but it was always something that was understood to be a temporary thing. I graduated high school in June of ’95 and was preparing to move to Boston to go to college. I don’t think we ever even officially “broke up” as much as we petered out. Or maybe we’re still around and just on hiatus. Tell the guys to call me [laughs]!”

Husky Youth, (left to right) Doug Hammond on guitar and Chris Teret on vocals; part of Scott Gilmore’s drum set and the head stock Lou Thomas’ bass guitar can be seen on the right; Scott and Lou are just out of frame. If anyone out there might have more photos of Husky Youth performing live please get in touch via the email address listed in the ‘About’ section here.

Even though Hammond left for college in the fall of ’95 his exit didn’t put a permanent end to Husky Youth. Around Christmas break of the 1995/1996 school year they briefly reunited. During this time the band recorded four of their original songs on a cassette four-track down at Aaron Friedman’s basement just south of Towson and just off Northern Parkway near Baltimore’s Roland Park neighborhood. Aaron’s house was a show venue and practice space. It was also a regular haunt for the band and their contemporaries. Friedman and the group co-produced the session; Zach Poff may have done some post-production for the songs. There might have been talk of these tracks getting officially issued as an e.p., but (for now forgotten reasons) even an informal release never came to fruition.

By this time Husky Youth had already evolved into several other bands, most notably Rive Gauche. In addition to Thomas, Gilmore, and Teret, Rive Gauche also included Guy Blakeslee; this was his first major Towson-Glen Arm project. Soon after Rive Gauche formed Gilmore, Teret, and Blakeslee started up the screamo-core side project Malaise. Both of the new groups would pick up from where Husky Youth left off in distinctly different ways with Malaise continuing to stray even further from the TGA path than HY in its unabashed embrace of established genre music. With a heavy folk influence, the eccentric indie rock band Rive Gauche was a precursor to the work all four artists would go on to create with some of the final TGA groups and many other projects they’ve worked with since the 2000’s.



A boring development in today’s contemporary arts involves the term “experimental”. Prior to the 21st century this word was used more as an adjective to describe a technique or set of techniques used by a wide variety of artists. Today the term is a noun synonymous with a genre of art that has narrow parameters. What was “weird” in the 20th century – mixed media, non-representational illustration, improvisational composition, atonality, electronic noise, breaking the “fourth wall”, etc. – now serves as the foundation of all so-called experimental art genres. Today most people scoff at the idea that something can be experimental without aesthetic elements of the 20th century avant garde. Bearing that in mind, Husky Youth’s mix of “weird” and “normal” is even more challenging today than it was decades ago.

Towson-Glen Arm’s greater ambition to fluidly meld art and activism without compromising the integrity of either concept drove Husky Youth’s experiments with popular genre music and their awkward subversion of the riot grrrl gender norm. For just over one action packed year the band had a blast, wrote some awesome music, and raised a’lot of enduring questions about the nature of feminist allyship. Though Husky Youth may have failed as “riot boys” they succeeded in immortalizing one of the most fascinating political moments of the 1990’s.

A flyer for an early Husky Youth show; art & design by Lee Verzosa.


** The Piltdown Men were an incredibly popular 80’s/90’s band who were partially based in Towson. They started out as a post-punk group a ‘la Joy Division/The Cure/The Church, etc. but eventually developed a sound more akin to Mr. Bungle, Fishbone, Faith No More, Primus, and other funky progressive rock groups who were big just before Nirvana and the grunge scene became a pop phenomena.

*** The Scrambled Eggs (also known as The Three Scrambled Eggs) were an outsider music group from Towson, Md. They were loosely associated with the Towson-Glen Arm movement. The Eggs are perhaps best remembered for utilizing The Preschoolers horn section at one of the most bizarre TGA events of all – a 1995 concert that occurred in an actual preschool classroom in the basement of Rodgers Forge United Methodist Church.

Posted in 90's alternative culture, 90's fashion, Anti-imperialism, Chris Teret band Company, experimental music, graphic design, Husky Youth, Preschoolers ska, Riot Grrl zines, Riot Grrrl, Uncategorized | Leave a comment

SAW OFF YOUR MANHOOD: The Husky Youth Story – Part 1

“What a time it was to be alive in Towson: so fertile… fervent… febrile… fetid…”
         – Scott Gilmore on Towson’s cultural climate in the early-mid 1990’s.               

Gilmore was one of the founding members of Husky Youth; he also worked with The Preschoolers, The TGAUC, and many other Towson-Glen Arm projects


The photo above was taken at the first show ever booked by The Towson-Glen Arm Unity Coalition. It took place on Labor Day 1994 in the basement of Scott Gilmore’s family home in Hunt Valley, Md. This concert could be called a festival as it lasted for most of a day into the early evening, there was a large varied line-up which featured all of the most active TGA bands (except for The Preschoolers and Spastic Cracker *), and it received a bigger promo push than many other early 90’s TGA basement gigs. Inspired by the interior design of then recently defunct Lutherville-Timonium venue Matt Bray’s Basement **, The TGAUC commemorated their Labor Day ’94 event by creating a set of political flyers and posters. These decorated the Gilmore basement and proudly introduced a whole new audience to the movement’s wild mix of absurdity and activism. The most irreverent of these was created by Jeff Duncan; it appears in the photo above on the right. The central image is a primal drawing of a handsaw accompanied by text instructing patrons to “saw off” their manhood. 

One big thing that inspired this wacky piece of anti-machismo was a fresh addition to The TGA rogue’s gallery of art damaged activists. The Labor Day 1994 event was notable for featuring the debut live performance from Husky Youth (their first set list is hanging on the wall right next to the “Saw Off Your Manhood” flyer). The band was formed by Doug Hammond, Scott Gilmore, and two of Towson-Glen Arm’s pioneers: Lou Thomas and Chris Teret. The pair had been founders of The Nudists, the crazed multi-media collective that kicked off the entire TGA explosion back in 1992. The Nudists’ first recorded work was the expansive semi-improvised tape “Live @ Lou’s”. As the earliest and one of the most experimental TGA groups, The Nudists set a precedent that’d rarely be matched creating a sound and a style completely antithetical to the genre obsessed conventions that surrounded mainstream and avant garde art during the late 20th century. From 1992 to 1994 this creative energy was TGA’s unique m.o.

Focused on subverting any and all established genres and aesthetics became paramount. It was an obsession for these young artists, so much so that – within their tiny corner of the conceptual universe – eventually the act of subverting the mainstream became routine and formulaic therefore subject to subversion itself. In short, “weird” became “normal”. TGA was all about breaking boundaries, so, as the scene evolved the new question that the north county underground faced was this: “We know how to break boundaries, but how can we break the boundaries that surround the act of breaking boundaries?” The search for common ground between the conventional and the experimental, the progressive and the nostalgic, the “weird” and the “normal” was on. It was an exploration of their own fluid aesthetic, but it was also a way to attract more attention and support for the artists’ far left political ideals, things which were (by the pop culture standards of the 1990’s) slightly more common than their ideas about creative work.

Many ideas made a quick transition from “weird” to “normal” during the alt-rock era. Radical 3rd Wave feminism was one of the most ubiquitous of these. Everyone from actress Anne Magnuson to hard rock icon Joan Jett to Newsweek magazine were celebrating the works of Kathleen Hanna, Bratmobile, Miranda July, Huggy Bear, and numerous others who emerged from the moment when the riot grrrl movement became feminism’s first major punk/pop-art fueled wing. Within a wider variety of fringe culture media outlets and zines –  from pro-level globally distributed publications like Maximum Rock’N’Roll and Raygun to micro-press outbursts created by Towson-Glen Arm artists like Claire Mysko and The L Crew – radical feminism was even more ubiquitous. Just like veganism, anarchism, and anti-racist action, feminism was embraced both as a sovereign movement and as a lifesaving weapon in the arsenal that the far left was building to defend itself and the world against the great threat of imperialism. As imperialism has always been a bi-product of toxic machismo, naturally feminism has long been defined as one of the world’s ultimate anti-imperialist movements.

Despite their iconoclastic background, the members of Husky Youth were a ‘lot like other smart, sensitive young male activists of their time. They felt a strong kinship with riot grrrl. The fact that they had many female friends who directly supported riot grrrl made Husky Youth even more enthusiastic to offer support as feminist allies who could bring more than just agit-prop weirdness to the table. Looking back at the accomplishments of the TGA artists it’s easy to see how they were successful and how so much of their work has stood the test of time. From an aesthetic perspective Husky Youth was a cathartic high point of the Towson-Glen Arm story. On the other hand, from a political standpoint, the group was a flop. Their zealous embrace of 90’s pop culture and their awkward ambition to become the world’s first “riot boy” band did not bring disastrous consequences, but these things did have a big impact on the scene’s development and its dissolution.  


In the next installment of this piece we take a look at the rise and fall Husky Youth through the eyes of those who witnessed the group’s strange politically charged moment firsthand

Posted in 90's alternative culture, Anti-imperialism, Chris Teret band Company, experimental music, Husky Youth, Riot Grrl zines, Riot Grrrl | Leave a comment

Odds & Ends – Part 3

An alternate flyer for the 7/27/1998 concert at Small Intestine. This “Sg.t Pepper”-esque collage piece was collectively created, designed, and lettered by members of the quintet Mach Schau! The original flyer and more info about the groups who performed at this event can be found via the “Odds & Ends – part 2” post here.
A photo probably taken in the fall or spring of 1994 during a Towson High School art class field trip to Hunt Valley’s Oregon Ridge Park. (Left to right) multi-media artist Spence Holman (presumably) modeling for fellow artist/writer Laura Burke
Baltimore city nightlife in the mid 90’s didn’t experience much crossover with the Towson-Glen Arm scene. This was mainly due to the city’s extreme lack of all ages venues. Outside of the infamous west Baltimore squat The Loft, there just weren’t many places that would regularly cater to the predominantly underage teen audiences and artists that comprised the north county underground. One of the few legit urban Baltimore venues that did support TGA during its heyday was the Maryland Institute College Of Art. The photo above shows The Unheard Ones performing live at MICA in 1996. (left to right: Tim Kabara, Eli Jones, Lisa Starace)
An understated flyer created by Ben Valis circa 1997 or ’98. The art and design here doesn’t reflect the TGA aesthetic, but nonetheless this piece and the show it advertises both came from one of the scene’s most unique historical moments. The band credited here as “The Permits” was a short lived project featuring members of Freedom Riders and Spontaneous Gyrations. Along with The Decency Squad, The Permits were the only live band ever to perform the songs of Drew Bena; the singer/songwriter played in both groups. Soon after this gig Bena would begin recording a series of poetic experimental folk rock albums under the name Luxuous.*
The preceding two shots are the only known photos of (top) Engine Killer and (bottom) Grrrls Of The Grid Iron. Engine Killer was a self-described “Beefheart punk band” featuring members of The Preschoolers, The Six O’Clock Alarm, Lard Star, and Husky Youth; Grrrls Of The Grid Iron was a trio whose members went on to form Behind Closed Doors, Husky Youth, and Manisexdestiny. Both groups existed briefly during 1994. This photo comes from the Labor Day ’94 gig put on by The TGAUC at Scott Gilmore’s family home in Hunt Valley, Md.

More info on this important event can be found at the “Odds & Ends – part 2” post here, the Eli Jones tribute blog Eli Lives: https://elilives.tumblr.com/post/56883441369/the-story-of-shovel-by-mike-apichella , and even more info on the concert is here: https://towsonglenarmfreakouts.wordpress.com/2021/04/08/saw-off-your-manhood-the-husky-youth-story-part-1/

Another dayglo/psuedo-psychedelic show flyer created by members of Mach Schau! This one advertises a late 90’s concert at Baltimore’s Ottobar. The vintage graphics come from a Ripley’s Believe It Or Not** publication.

In 1998 The Small Intestine suddenly shuttered its doors; soon before that several of the major north county DIY venues closed***. Many late 90’s events originally booked at Small Intestine and other TGA-friendly spaces then had to be rescheduled and moved at the last minute. Small Intestine svengali/Baltimore music impresario Ben Valis made sure to find new homes for most by re-booking them at some of Baltimore city’s bars and indie rock clubs. The Ottobar frequently played host to these displaced gigs.

* You can hear Luxuous’ music and read more about the artist via the first Towson-Glen Arm Freakouts compilation album: https://nunsliketofence.bandcamp.com/track/luxuous-ultraviolent-rays

** https://www.comics.org/series/1701/covers/?page=3

*** https://towsonglenarmfreakouts.wordpress.com/2013/12/27/matt-bray-and-the-early-days-of-towson-glen-arm/

Posted in graphic design, Lard Star, MICA, mysticism, Odds and Ends, psychedelic | Leave a comment

Odds & Ends – Part 2

This excerpt from the 1995 Towson High School yearbook just may be the best illustration of Towson-Glen Arm’s status as an enclave for outsiders. Note the dramatic disconnection displayed by the senior quotes here from “normal” high school kid Julia and TGA artist Tyler Roylance. The quotes Tyler shared come from the following sources (top to bottom) : “Paradise Lost” by John Milton, and the bottom quote paraphrases an ancient Latin saying originally utttered by Greco-Roman prisoners who were about to take part in war games. It first appeared in print when it was included in Suetonius’ ‘De vit Caesarum’. The literal translation: “Those who are about to die salute you”.
A flyer for an early Freedom Riders show which happened at the short lived venue Freedom City Cafe, probably circa 1995 or ’96 (artist: unknown). The other performers here were not TGA artists.
In the genre-obsessed 90’s it was tough for conventional venues and promoters to figure out how to market concerts featuring the frequently genre defying Towson-Glen Arm artists. The Within show flyer here (created by an unknown designer) is evidence of this. Despite being booked at this popular Baltimore coffee shop’s “No Wave Night” event, the band never cited no wave music as an influence. The other act on this bill was even less no-wave-ish: Goodbye Kitty were an improvisational shoegazer band from the Annapolis area which included drummer Ben McConnell who later played in several short lived Towson-Glen Arm bands during the late 90’s.
The hand written track list from a mix tape made by Dave Willemain; the tape was a gift made for his Towson High classmate Brian Knudsen circa 1995 or ’96. Willemain’s output as a compiler of unique mix tapes was just as influential as any of his original music and multi-media art work. The track list’s aesthetic diversity reflects the political beliefs and emotional breadth that defined the TGA movement’s approach. Brian Knudsen was kind enough to share this image; he also made an online playlist featuring most of the original tracklist – you can find that here: https://open.spotify.com/playlist/1N2P3EnxWKxDUim1cTkLXL?si=ZJdbvohHTCCLkiGfiYX9TQ&fbclid=IwAR2hA33abYWMr16GIZZJAOn6PwnB83E-abNtHJLDLQr_tbLPbUCdpepADBM&nd=1.
As a great testament to Willemain’s crate digging prowess, a few tracks from the mix are so obscure that they have yet to be made widely available via all major streaming platforms. Here’s where to find those cuts:
“Some Clouds Don’t” by Fred Frith – https://youtu.be/cFCML8N4fZE
“Tous Les Matins” by Les Frelons – https://youtu.be/Sa9QgOwUFNY
“Trop Belle Pour Rester Seule” by Ringo (aka Ringo Willy Kat aka Guy Bayle) – https://youtu.be/1hPT9mQMFnk

A flyer advertising one of the first live concerts to feature The Spontaneous Gyrations. Layout, design, and lettering was done by the band themselves circa 1994 or ’95.

If judged only by face value, this image may not seem to be as action packed as others that document TGA’s performance art energy. But looks can be deceiving. There are several major reasons why this photo is dynamic and important. First, it is one of a series of shots taken at the legendary Labor Day 1994 concert at Scott Gilmore’s family home in Hunt Valley; this event featured debut sets from some of the scene’s biggest acts, including Husky Youth, Shovel, and the only live set from the Within line-up that featured Lou Thomas on drums. Another high point: the band Lard Star made their swan song performance here. The Labor Day ’94 show also marked the debut of The Towson-Glen Arm Unity Coalition. This activist group set up the show and ushered the TGA movement into its most significant moment of popularity (late 1994 & most of ’95). Additionally, this photo is the only known documentation of M.U.S.C.L.E., a short lived free music group with a fluid membership that included (above, left to right) Spence Holman and Cory Davolos. More rare photos and details from the Labor Day ’94 TGAUC concert will be shared soon.

Posted in graphic design, Lard Star, mysticism, Odds and Ends | Tagged | Leave a comment

“The Aftermath Of Project Nike” by Robin Molloy

A US Army diagram illustrating the launch process and functions of a Nike Hercules nuclear missile. The diagram also provides a side view of the common underground and above ground infrastructure of Nike missile sites circa the 1950’s-1960’s.

A Nike Ajax missile test circa the 1950’s or 60’s (this photo comes from the nikemissile.org website)

The following piece was written by a TGA artist. The writer’s name and many other names mentioned here have been changed to protect the innocent.

Thirty years after its construction, Phoenix, Maryland’s abandoned Nike missile battery became the awkward reminder of a doomsday that never happened. For me and many others who grew up in central Maryland, the site took on a mythic status. It became a rite of passage for kids to invade its rusty netherworld. The irony of its existence was impossible to ignore: a once deadly underground complex lay hidden in plain view stuffed between agricultural lands, retail infrastructure, public forests, and other wholesome community centers. Phoenix, Md. was designed to be a tranquil ex-burb and yet at one point the biggest army on Earth felt it was the perfect spot to hide a nuclear arsenal.

Project Nike was a strategic initiative created by the US Department Of Defense. It encompassed the engineering, testing, and diffusion of guided anti-aircraft missiles. They were called “Nike” missiles because that name originally belonged to the Greek goddess of victory, something that the army was certain it could attain with these weapons. From the 1950’s through the early 70’s Nike sites came to every corner of the globe that had a US military presence. It wasn’t an exclusive part of Maryland’s culture, but the project began life at the Fort Meade army base – roughly forty five minutes to an hour west of the city of Baltimore and its greater metro area which includes Phoenix. Though first conceived in 1944 as a plan of defense against The Axis Powers, once Cold War tensions began to mount it became one of the many bi-products of anti-communist paranoia and the military industrial complex.

Nike launch sites were constructed specifically to protect densely populated urban centers from the threat of nuclear war. They were built within existent bases or on the grounds of National Guard armories. When extra land wasn’t available the army built on property bought from the private sector. Each site comprised around 50 acres of land most of which was taken up by underground infrastructure: missile magazines, control rooms, office space, and storage areas. The Nike sites’ major above ground structures were radar towers. The number of batteries built in any given area was tailored to fit individual populations and the sites were arranged in circles (nicknamed “rings of steel”) that surrounded whatever city they protected.

The specs for these missiles were technically sophisticated. There were a total of three different Nike models created: the Nike Ajax, the Nike Hercules, and the Nike Zeus. Hercules and Zeus were equipped with nuclear warheads. All three were controlled by a triple radar system invented by Western Electric. The missiles themselves were built and jointly designed by The U.S. Army and defense contractor McConnell-Douglas.

A map of America created by FEMA; this charts regions of the country determined to be high risk targets for a nuclear attack from foreign enemies (date of creation: 1981)

A 1958 advertisement for the Douglas Aircraft Company (later known as McConnell-Douglas)

Public safety issues associated with Project Nike first emerged in 1958 when a Nike Ajax was accidentally detonated at a site near the Gateway National Recreation Area in Leandro, New Jersey. The explosion killed six soldiers and four civilians.

The Cold War’s slow acrimonious end began in 1972 with the SALT I arms control treaty, a bilateral effort in which the U.S. and the Soviets worked to reduce their collective stockpile of nuclear weapons and other WMD’s. Project Nike was among the first of the U.S. defense programs to get the axe. All Nike sites were decommissioned by the DOD soon after the talks concluded.

Random destruction and diplomatic rigmarole weren’t all that cast a negative shadow on Project Nike. In the early 1980’s – twenty years after its establishment and nearly a decade after its shut down – toxic chemicals began to contaminate water in neighborhoods that surrounded the remains of BA-03 aka the Phoenix, Md. Nike site. Industrial solvents had seeped into wells after being used to clean missile storage units and other parts of the site that were located deep underground. The pollution was so devastating that people who lived in Baltimore County’s Sunnybrook Road area couldn’t drink their tap water for most of the 80’s. The army finally cleaned up the water supply in 1993, but efforts to decontaminate the soil were ongoing as recently as 2007. By the 90’s any trace of live ammo had been wiped clean from the site. It posed no threat connected to bombs, missiles, or any other explosives. Other than toxic residue, the biggest thing that us young trespassers had to worry about was aggressive confrontations with security guards who occasionally patrolled the grounds.

It was absurd and terrifying to even think about it. This grim complex was once located within walking distance of the baseball diamonds where we all played little league and the shopping centers where we bought comic books and candy. The churches and schools our parents dragged us to were all in the same area. A dangerous military installation in my dorky white bread neighborhood? Could it really be true? I had to see it to believe it.

In addition to being my high school’s biggest class clown, Sam was an accomplished lacrosse player. Other than me, most of his close friends were macho jock kids. My arrival at Sam’s house coincided with that of several Jeeps filled with Sam’s beefy lacrosse bros and their glammed out preppy girlfriends. Covered in perfume, wearing tie-dyed t-shirts, open toe sandals, subtle touches of glitter and blush, and cut-off denim shorts, these girls looked like they were heading out to a dance club, not some crusty military bunker. The guys were decked out in standard issue jock gear: Umbros, backwards baseball caps, white socks or no socks at all, pro-sports team jerseys, and name brand sneakers (including big puffy Nike basketball kicks). I could only hang with them because Sam and I were Dulaney’s ultimate abstract comedy team. We’d do almost anything to sabotage the zombifying banality that passed for American public education at Dulaney. These muscle bound local sports stars might have wanted to beat the crap out of me, but they just couldn’t find time for that; they were too busy laughing at all the insane shit Sam and I did to disrupt class.

Their WASP-ish girlfriends were just plain nauseated by me. I was the anti-thesis of a clean cut jock – an emaciated, un-kept, no-count vegetarian with long greasy hair who consciously refused to wear designer clothes. Outside of school, the world these kids lived in seemed alien to me. Knowing that they had an even vague interest in military arcana further piqued my curiosity about the Nike site.

Sam’s parents weren’t home that evening so before heading to the abandoned battery we hung out at his place for a little “pre-gaming”. Classic rock and rap blared from a stereo, beers got chugged, cigarettes were going around, maybe some of the couples were making out. It wasn’t a Dionysian orgy, but it was far from wholesome. Daylight savings time had kicked in, so it couldn’t have been any earlier than nine when the adventure began. Within the sleepy environs of Phoenix we were surrounded by bored pensioners and stay-at-home moms who’d jump at the chance to rat on suspicious activity. Consequently, the Nike site only became a destination for teen hedonism after dark.

Once the caravan of Jeeps rumbled out of Sam’s semi-suburban development it wasn’t long before we turned off a country road down on to an unpaved gravel stretch. The grey and white path shimmered in the moonlight as we lumbered along. Even with all-terrain wheels no one could drive too fast as the pathway which led to the Nike site’s main gate was just as decrepit as the site itself. Before the main entrance there was a cul de sac where up to four or five vehicles could park, an area wide enough for a big rig to make a U-turn. A few of the cars parked off to the side underneath some mammoth evergreen trees. One of the jocks parked his Jeep in a position that faced the entrance gate directly. He sat idling for a minute before Sam walked over and noticed that it’d been chained shut. Sam then gestured silently pointing in the directions just to the left and right of the gate.

“What hell’s going on?”, I whispered. The other kids remained silent. This was old hat to them, nothing unusual. Sam scurried over to me, leaned in and replied, ”Just stay over there and whatever you do don’t move or make a sound.”
The jock revved his engine a few times before peeling out, kicking up a cloud of dust, and crashing his jeep head on into the gate.

I was awestruck. I’d never seen such recklessness up close. “What the fuck is he gonna tell his parents!?” That’s all I could think. But some of these kids were from really wealthy backgrounds. Their fathers and their fathers’ fathers were probably all jocks at some point. “Boy will be boys” was a common justification for anything destructive done by any man prior to the p.c. revolution. The sensitive indie rock nerds and defiant riot grrls of the post-Nirvana era had yet to embed themselves into pop consciousness. We were barely past the Reagan years and the overblown machismo of low brow touchstones like The Morton Downey Jr. Show and Wayne’s World. A couple scratches on a Jeep grill? These were badges of manhood.

The impact broke the chain instantly but caused no severe damage to the Jeep. As its front end met the fence there was no violent explosion of sound, only a muffled clink. This wasn’t a razor-ribboned electrified fortification bound by multiple padlocks, it was probably the cheapest metal fence money could buy. In 1991 there was no great threat of Soviet spies to worry about; such things quickly became faint memories thanks to glasnost and the fall of the Berlin wall. The government had no reason to give the Fort Knox treatment to the Phoenix site or any other gutted Nike battery.

Once we all sauntered past the bent up gate Sam led us straight to an entry hatch. A few trailers and supply sheds dotted the perimeter. There were telephone poles and fluorescent street lamps out by those, but the central area was cloaked in shadow. This hatch was part of an emergency escape route which lead to the control rooms and other infrastructure located below ground. As it opened that’s when the kids turned on their flashlights. As the first beam shot down I noticed a wrought iron ladder that went straight into an abyss. Five or six kids went in.

Initially I stayed above ground with one or two others who chose to be lookouts keeping watch for the security. I wandered around the massive concrete slab under which lurked ominous launch racks. I marveled at time’s organic destruction. There were weeds, ivy, and dandelions growing everywhere around the slab’s edge and from rusted metal seams throughout the launch pad and buffer zone areas. Some of the trailers and supply sheds were also blanketed by wild fauna.

After a few minutes I finally decided to check out the interior. Climbing into the narrow metal escape tube I could see dim flashes of light ping ponging around as I slowly made my way to meet the others. As I caught up with the crew laughs, mumbles, and a faint splashing swelled in volume. The ladder ended up in a passage way that flanked the missile magazines. It was there that I noticed the murky water.

“What the fuck?! Are you kidding me? That’s gotta be polluted water!”, I exclaimed. These goofballs were meandering about laughing, making scary ghost noises, clanking keys and flashlights against walls, all doing their best Jacob Marley/Poltergeist imitations. I looked over to one of the kids who was wearing shorts standing ankle deep in the grey water stomping around like a madman. “Dude, you’re gonna get poisoned or something, that’s probably toxic waste, I’m gettin the fuck outta here!” A moment of silence, a few kids yelling ”Oh shit!”, and the party was over. We shot back up the ladder, shaky flashlights leading the way like strobes on the fritz.

My close friend and fellow anarcho-freak “Kevin” lived around the corner from Sunnybrook Rd. Before we became friends in high school he had a few brushes with the Nike complex. Here’s Kevin’s take on the landmark:

The Nike site was pretty legendary turf… The first real experience I had there was when my Cub Scout troop camped out on the property… most of the info relayed to younger kids seemed to re-iterate warnings to stay the hell out of there, it was dangerous and older teens did stuff there like drink alcohol and worship Satan.

…(some friends and) I finally snuck into the restricted area years later. We found one of the accessible entry points and one by one climbed down into some sort of control room. It was pitch black and I was freaked out the entire time I was there which wasn’t long at all. I remember tons of graffiti covering just about everything and plenty of empty beer cans.

As the neglected Nike missile sites fell into disrepair they became hang outs for bored teens all over North America. Sketchy tales of these abandoned relics can be found coast-to-coast:

A man had to be hoisted to safety after plunging 40 feet down a hole at an abandoned missile site in Chatsworth.

Los Angeles city and county firefighters used a pulley system to raise the man from the hole at the decommissioned Nike site in Chatsworth after friends say he fell while they were drinking and smoking during a party there…

  – a September 9th, 2018 KNBC news report

Area children… have vivid memories of cavorting on the property. The silos were open – well, we found a way to open them – and, believe me, nothing beats the Cold War memory of clambering inside a missile silo…. Generations of Stapleites recall the Nike site as an abandoned, overgrown, unpatrolled area – the ideal spot for drinking, drugs, and sex (“Hey, wanna see my silo?”)

  – Dan Woog’s 70’s memories of a Nike site that was near Westport, Connecticut’s          Staples High School, originally published on the blog 06680

When I was in high school we used to party at (Nike site) SL-10 (Marine, IL. [near St. Louis, Missouri]) Everything below ground was flooded and had more than a few dead animals floating around in it.

  – A comment from a thread about Nike site remnants posted to the ar15.com forum

Among the many odd twists in the post-Nike saga, Hobart, Indiana’s recreational attraction Blast Camp might provide the wackiest one of all. This quote comes from its website:

Chicagoland’s longest running and most unique paintball and airsoft facility… Blast Camp is located on a historic national landmark that served as a Nike missile defense base… Nike Missile site C-47 is one of 20 missile bases utilized as a “last ditch” line of air defense for Chicago… Our playing field is located over 20 acres and contains 13 original buildings such as the mess hall, the generator room, five radar towers, administrative buildings and barracks.

An artist’s partial rendering of the underground infrastructure at a Nike missile battery (art commissioned by The US government circa the 1950’s or ’60’s)
A recent photo of a typically dilapidated Nike site circa the post-decommission era complete with a flimsy/damaged fence (Newport, Mi.; this was found via the website Abandoned But Not Forgotten)
There are no known photos of the Phoenix Nike site ruins, but the three preceding b&w shots bear a striking resemblance to the Md. battery in all its overgrown/unkept splendor. The third in this series shows an emergency entry hatch much like the ones that dotted a small section of the Phoenix site (these photos show the ruins of the Barrington, Il. Nike site circa the 1970’s or 80’s – photography commissioned by The Library Of Congress)
An abandoned Nike Missile launch rack in southern California’s Santa Clarita Valley (Los Pinetos-Newhall, Ca., near Bear Divide at former Nike site LA-94; photo by The City Of Los Angeles Public Library; date unknown)

Why should anyone care about a bunch of delinquents wandering through the skeleton of a Cold War monster? It’s not clear if the Phoenix Nike battery made a big impression on Sam and his bro’s. They were partying hard back then, so nearly thirty years on few could remember much when I asked them to share their overall impressions. For me, everything about the Nike site symbolized defeat. This hulking complex built to protect people ended up doing the polar opposite. It scarred the land with its visual appearance as a cold concrete slab filled with rust and dilapidation. It never saved anyone from a Soviet nuke attack. It was nothing but a nuisance and an eyesore. The environmental destruction it caused is remarkable for being one of the few things to ever drive down property values in bucolic north Baltimore County.

Beyond its colossal aura of failure, my most intense memory of the Nike site was when the jock guy bashed his Jeep into the fence. That replays over and over again in my head, popping up in daydreams whenever I least expect it. Regardless of whether or not the Nike site was active, it belonged to the U.S. Army. Through all the pro-choice rallies, gay rights demonstrations, anti-war protests, and animal rights events I went to in the 90’s never once did I see the destruction of federal government property. I’d never been directly connected to such brazen civil disobedience until spending an evening underground in a rotten sludge bunker with a bunch of drunken jocks playing Poltergeist.


Around the turn of the 21st century the former site of Phoenix, Md.’s Nike missile battery became the property of Baltimore County’s local government. Today the site is used as a storage area and parking lot for County owned vehicles and equipment. (This photo and the preceding two pics were taken by Andy DeVos circa mid 2020)

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A Dispatch From The Trenches – 1992/1993

For an insecure teenager struggling to maintain a sense of identity and purpose, defending a divirgent opinion can be a make or break venture. This was especially true within the anti-intellectual environment fostered by Dulaney High School circa the early 1990’s. For this reason, some of the nerdy Towson-Glen Arm artists (many of whom were also Dulaney students) refused to embrace academia with any extreme enthusiasm. Most of the TGA kids continued their academic careers long after high school ended, but there were a fair number who didn’t do that. There was even one (Cory Davolos) who opted for a general equivalency degree instead of waiting around for Dulaney’s mindless 4 year “sentence” to run its course.

Up now at Splice Today is a piece that summarizes Dulaney’s status as a symbol of all the political beliefs and philosophies that Towson-Glen Arm hated, and how that hatred transformed systematic education into one of the movement’s biggest targets for subversion:


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