Diary of a wannabe punk princess

A journey to uncover what’s left of the punk scene in Chicago

By Brenna Ehrlich

When I first had the idea to write an article about the punk scene in Chicago, I thought it’d be easy. I’d go to a couple of record stores, talk to a couple of people with pink hair and call it a day.

I had taken that summer class about the history of punk: Dada to the Sex Pistols. So I should be a punk expert, right? What I hadn’t taken into account was that while Chicago boasts a Chinatown, a Greektown and even an Old Town (which is not, by the way, filled with old people) there is no Punktown.

Moreover, punk isn’t as clearly defined as, let’s say, country; it’s not as easy to pin down. Punk seems to hide elusively around Chicago, mostly in bars. And there’s the crux of the anarchy symbol: I’m 21, but the majority of my friends are still on the other side of legal. So punk, that music, that culture of defiance and protest, is almost completely off-limits for my law-abiding friends (sans fakes) and me. But as a journalist, I persevered, and what follows are my findings. The weird, the wonderful, the punk, and all the places I would have liked to be.

As I said, punk is not a static genre. Just check out Chicago writer and Punk Planet columnist Joe Meno’s new book “Hairstyles of the Damned.”

“Being punk ...” he writes, “for most kids meant the way you dressed mostly, not what records you played.”

Well, if that’s the way you look at it, and you want to try the punk persona on for size, step into the leopard and purple dressing rooms of Belmont’s Hollywood Mirror (812 W. Belmont Ave). You want band shirts? They’ve got ’em. You want ’80s bridesmaid dresses? Done and done. From letterman jackets to leather jackets — if you want it, they have it. This is the store to satisfy all of your offbeat fashion cravings.

Speaking of odd obsessions, if you want to watch alternative as well as dress alternative, head down to Odd Obsession Movies on 1659 N. Halsted Street. Owned by cinophile Brian Chankin, this haven of celluloid curiosities carries films that are rare, out of print, independent, cult, foreign, troma, exploitation, film noir, new wave, horror and everything in between.

After you pick up your obscure DVD of choice, get your Fugazi fix at Reckless Records at one of their three locations (3157 N. Broadway, 606 Davis St. in Evanston or 1532 N. Milwaukee Ave.). Whether you buy, sell or browse, bring a friend — you’ll need someone to stop you from blowing your paycheck on their extensive selection of vinyl and CDs.

If you visit their shop in Wicker Park, head on over to Myopic Books (1468 N. Milwaukee Ave). Three floors (and a basement) house floor-to-ceiling shelves of used books, including a modest smattering of books on punk, mostly dealing with the Sex Pistols.

Across the street you’ll find Filter (1585 N. Milwaukee Ave), an industrial-style coffee shop full of alternative/punk/hipster folk. Grab some coffee and survey the funky artwork (think toothpastefordinner.com).

Wicker Park is also bursting at its paint-smattered seams with galleries and other artsy-type places with a decidedly punk vibe. Along with Belmont, Wicker Park is the place to pursue the elusive punk scene.

Now we come to the section that I would like to call: “Places I would have gone to and raved about had my friends been legal.”

I was practically in a frenzy (film geek joke) when I heard about Bar Vertigo (845 N. Western Ave.), a Hitchcock-themed hotspot that houses local punk on Friday and Saturday nights.

I’d also love to make an entrance at Exit (1315 W. North Ave). This club is one of Chicago’s top punk rock venues, with its interior decked out in lingerie, motorcycles and a real live (well, not live, since it’s inanimate) armored car.

I’d probably even go to Neo (2350 N. Clark St.), a Gothic heaven (or hell, depending on how you look at it) that blasts techno, rave and punk.

Tops on my list is The Empty Bottle (1035 N. Western Ave.), one of the best places in Chicago to see live bands. Tickets are cheap, and the music is good. You can rock out to anything from punk to jazz, and trust me, I will be doing just that someday soon.

Well, here ends my article, but not my search for punk’s vein within the circulation system that is Chicago’s counterculture. I may only like about three of the Sex Pistols’ songs, and I may prefer to use safety pins the old fashioned way instead of as an accessory, but there’s too much to see in Chicago to be a genre snob. So, here’s my message to all you rigid scenesters out there: Go do something new.

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