"Terminal Preppie" / Dead Kennedys / Plastic Surgery Disasters

I really began to get into punk music between 8th and 9th grade. My interest in it came about rather naturally from my immersion into the skater / townie culture that I started dipping my toe in around the same time.

I really have to thank an old buddy of mine, Worth Parker, for getting me started. He was the first dude to get a skateboard (the Vision Gator), buy Thrasher magazine (only posers read Transworld), and buy punk records. He let me tape his copy of The Dead Kennedys' “Plastic Surgery Disasters” which I listened to incessantly, which led me to buying Agent Orange, The Sex Pistols, Circle Jerks, Suicidal Tendencies (which, awesomely, I begged my Mom to buy for me at the old Ruthless Records downtown on her way home from work. What in the world was she thinking?), and Black Flag tapes.

As I listened to this stuff, I became really obsessed with it in only the way a fourteen year old can really be. To trot out an old cliché, the lyrics really spoke to me at the time and caused me to completely reexamine the social constructs of my school, community and family. I bought a Black Flag T-shirt and began wearing that and an old olive green Army jacket of my Dad’s and started looking at my old friends who were still into Van Halen and Zeppelin with a critical eye. I got lots of shit for my new attitude, wardrobe, and interest in music, but of course that only fed it further.

Bought at Ruthless Records, of course

Eventually I began to reconcile that punk ethos with the reality of being a responsible citizen who, after all, lived in a secure, middle class , two-parent home and had no conceivable right to complain about things (“I am NOT walking the dog, Mom! I’ve had it with your bourgeoisie paradigm of suburban life!”). Plus, in the end, I was too nice and raised with too much politeness to be a good punk. I will admit, though, that I’ve internalized much more of the views of Henry Rollins and Jello Biafra than I may have realized. Even though what I went through was Teenage Rebellion 101, there are still some aspects that I can’t completely let go, and that in all honesty surprises me. I’ve always appreciated music which, at it’s heart, believed in more than chicks and beer, (and damn did they believe), and in the end, I think that’s what still sticks with me the most.

"Punk Ain't no religious cult / Punk Means thinking for yourself / You ain't hardcore 'cause you spike your hair when a jock still lives inside your head"


“Terminal Preppie” is, like most all other DK songs, delivered as a sarcastic, sneering screed,a minute and a half buzzsaw. Jello Biafra does what he does best here – assuming the narrative voice of the object of his scorn and ridicule.

My ambition in life
Is too look good on paper
What I want is a spot
In some big corporation

This sounded great to me at the time, a condemnation of people focused on the dollar and getting ahead, with no thought to what’s “real” in life (again, this from a kid who had his folded laundry lovingly placed on his bed once a week.. What the hell did I know? Who was I to criticize?)

Beliushi’s my hero I lampoon and I ape him
My news of the world comes from Sports Illustrated

Here’s where I ran into a little disconnect. My buddies and I did worship Animal House's Blutarsky, and I couldn’t hide the fact that I loved sports. And now, er, subscribe to SI. Sorry, Jello

I’m proud of my trophies like my empty beer cans
Stacked in rows up the wall to impress all my friends

I came back to this lyric a bunch in college and grad school at a million apartment parties I attended. At least half (more if it was a guy’s) had a line of beer cans or liquor bottles lined atop of their kitchen cabinets. It always gave me a snort.

Now I’m not here to learn
I just want to get drunk
And major in business
And be taught how to fuck

UGA in the early and mid 80’s. That about covers it, no?

I want a wife with tits
Who just smiles all the time
In my centerfold world
Filled with Springsteen and wine

Uh-oh. Starting to his close to home here (well, at least the Springsteen shot)

Someday I’ll have power!
Someday I’ll have boats!
A tract in some suburb
With Thanksgivings to host

Yeah, the last two lines busted me. What can you do? We all sell out eventually, don’t we? We just negotiate our own internal price and eventually justify it to ourselves.

The last thing I’ll point out here is one of the most underrated musicians of all time – the DK’s bassist, Klaus Floride. You can tell from the first riff in this song what’s up, and he's is just incredible on this whole album. His bass launches many of the DK’s songs, and he always has some major riffs and innovative lines. Great stuff.