So, here’s a book on a man, a venue, frankly an entire scene I was completely ignorant of. Dirk Dirksen ran a music venue at the Mabuhay Gardens, in San Francisco, from 1977-1982; by day a Filipino restaurant and piano bar, by night a chaotic arena called the Fab Mab that showcased and nurtured a growing San Francisco punk scene. 

Dirksen was himself writing a history of the Mabuhay Gardens, but sadly passed away in 2006 before his work was done. Ron Turner and James Stark have thus completed Dirksen’s task, but rather than a straight, simple history, Shut Up You Animals!!! is a punk-esque collage of memories and stories from a multitude of people who encountered Dirksen and the Fab Mab nights. The collage aspect is important; in many respects the book is really a glorified tribute zine, which I say without any negative connotations, collating snippets of text with very little sense of order. This zine-esque quality is also reflected in the visual aspect of the book, with many black and white photos and beautiful gig posters; the cover has to be mentioned as a gloriously ugly piece of design - whether it was conceived with straight or kitsch intent, it remains, for me, a perfectly garish image for the contents.

Dirk Dirksen was born in Germany, in 1937, emigrating to the US in 1948; he worked various entertainment jobs, including time as a tour manager and TV Producer, before encountering the Mabuhay Gardens. The venue, owned by Ness Aquino, had booked a few live bands - including The Nuns and Crime - hoping to invigorate a declining business; but in 1977 Dirksen took over the booking role, and transformed the nights into more than just simple ‘gigs’. Dirksen viewed the whole venture as a gigantic art project, and one in which he was equal parts ringmaster and provocateur; the collected memories in the book paint a picture of genuinely chaotic proceedings in a genuinely chaotic venue. Dirksen encouraged anyone to play, provided they submitted a tape and press photo, and that ‘anyone can do it’ aspect of punk runs throughout the book - though Dirksen could be deliberately difficult, even hostile, with bands. Thus the Fab Mab nights saw hundreds of bands play, seven days a week, 52 weeks a year, in a venue that conformed to the worst stereotypes of punk venues, with the (often filthy) toilets acting as spaces for a lot of sex and drugs and presumably some rock’n’roll. The gigs themselves were more akin to theatre or happenings than neutered rock concerts, not least due to Dirksen himself, who compered them scathingly, often insulting the audience, or bands, or inviting chaos. Indeed, the book generates a sense that Dirksen deliberately cultivated a wild, bubbling energy in audiences with one hand, whilst trying to direct or control it with the other. This potential for excess and violence is reflected in the numerous times that he was beaten up or threatened, by punters, or intruders attracted by the chaos, and Dirksen seems to have viewed these events as unfortunate side effects of the grand theatre he was creating.

Whilst Dirksen’s vision was of creating a space where anyone, ‘musicians, dancers, comedians, you name it,’ who needed a stage could have one, his importance to the San Francisco, and wider, punk scene is obvious and notable. The book’s gig posters are supplemented by gig listings that cover December 1976 through to June 1982, and once Dirksen was settled in these gigs were taking place daily. It’s an absurd list, and even just choosing names meaningful to me results in: The Avengers, Blondie, Devo, Tuxedomoon, The Screamers, Dead Kennedys, Flipper, The Bags, 8 Eyed Spy, Black Flag, Minutemen, Minor Threat, The Adolescents, Youth Brigade, MX 80, Husker Du… - that’s an incredibly strong list. Dirksen also helped run Jello Biafra’s unsuccessful 1979 campaign to become mayor of San Francisco, and Winston Smith, who had such an influence on hardcore’s visual aspects, pops up in the book several times.

In an interview with Damage magazine, Dirksen was questioned: ‘Someone asked me to ask you if it’s true you hate punks?’ - frustratingly the book cuts the interview short there, either deliberately or perhaps through a printing error (there are a few in the book). Certainly Dirksen happily played the rogue, sneering at audiences and the scene, and indeed some voices in the book portray him as a canny businessman making the most out of punk, but he was a complicated person, all things considered, and there was definitely another side to him. When D.O.A. first played the Fab Mab they arrived from Canada with just a snare drum and a guitar - Dirksen rung around local bands to gather up instruments for them, then took them out and bought them clothes and a meal. There are numerous stories of Dirksen feeding bands or local punks with an apparently famous ‘spaghetti dinner’ before shows - with one grateful recipient being a young Flea - and the book conveys a sense that for all Dirksen’s bile, he looked out for young punks. Whilst ‘alternative’ cultures are largely accepted now (not forgetting vile incidents like the murder of Sophie Lancaster) being a punk in 1979 was a stance likely to arouse hostility in the general public, and I’m reminded of the scene in Another State of Mind where Youth Brigade have to load their gear in through an unappreciative bar; in this regard Dirksen did cultivate a place of belonging and acceptance (though ironically enough, Dirksen is discussed in Another State of Mind as a rip-off promoter…!). This theme is constantly remarked on in the book in familial terms; Dirksen is remembered by some as a disapproving father figure, by others as a crazy uncle; one tribute reads: ‘An uncle, a brother, a father, a friend - how many of us did he raise in the end?’ There is a sense of genuine community, of the Mabuhay Gardens nights acting as a haven and meeting place for an extended punk family - I’m compelled to draw comparisons with the social, familial role of the Ballroom scene, if only to provoke reflection. This social aspect also carried beyond the punk scene into the wider local community, with Dirksen in his later years organising the ‘Our Block Program’ with ‘weekly street cleanings, graffiti paint outs, tree plantings, gardening classes, and his favorite [sic] - the weekly Children’s Cooking Class.’ At the risk of writing words he might disapprove of, it would be fair to say that amongst the chaos and mess he gleefully orchestrated, he still carried a compassionate heart.

This is an odd book, in the sense that it’s a messy, barely organised, ‘raw’ work - but, without disappearing into cliches, that seems to perfectly reflect the subject matter. Whilst some might argue for some editing and proofreading, and perhaps the omission of some ultimately inconsequential contributions, it has that ‘lived’ slant that a more formal history just wouldn’t convey - certainly it’s a book that I’ve often mused on since reading it. It tells a story of an obnoxious, rude, hostile businessman parasitically profiting off punk, or a parental figure who nurtured a vibrant punk scene, looked out for its vulnerable members, and literally defended it with his own body. The truth is somewhere in between, but as a romantic I’m leaning towards the latter. It’s also worth noting that at points the book displays some of punk’s less attractive qualities; there are a few pieces by ego’s who think they’re more interesting than they actually are, and a few anti-Disco rants - though to be fair these are mostly framed in economic terms as venues avoiding the expense of live bands. From a broader view, the book comments on important themes in punk: diy ethics, familial and educative aspects, the role that a sympathetic space can play in the creation of a scene; Dirk Dirksen is also testament to the virtue of simply acting, having an idea and acting on it - as someone often paralysed by indecision or fear, the reminder that doing something, no matter how small, creates the possibility of something else happening is a welcome one. Lastly the book speaks to the important awareness of theatre in punk: Dirksen was nothing if not a showman. One anecdote recalls how a rumour spread that the Rolling Stones were playing secret gigs in small clubs under false names on their Tattoo You tour, and that the Mabuhay Gardens was on their list; Dirksen thus recruited a bunch of punks to play Rolling Stones covers, advertised a gig by a band called Tattoo, and then happily refused to deny it was the actual Rolling Stones; on the night hundreds of people queued up to see Tattoo, and later discovered that it wasn’t their heroes. This mischievous - though never aiming at true harm - sense of theatre and spectacle, from a man who would stand onstage and insult audiences and bands half his age, made Dirk Dirksen just as punk as his adopted family.