This being Canada, of course nothing was ever recorded or properly documented save for Sam Sutherlandâs retrospective book Perfect Youth. But I did get to ask Chris Barry, singer in the 222s, about it in more detail. He had just turned 17. They were playing at McGill. Drunk fratboys immediately clocked that they were different. They dressed more colourful. They wore makeup. They didnât conform and werenât manly. They wore makeup, not just on stage, but all the time.
(from the museum of Canadian music)
The opening band Chromosomes also clocked this. Thought the 222s to be too arty, they could actually play their instruments. Well, so could Chromosomes, when their singer wasnât on a phenomenally high, self-destructive run, attacking everyone and everything in his path. Including his band and gear. Famously at a show, he ran headfirst and dove into a swimming pool, wired microphone still in hand. The PA followed him. He couldâve been electrocuted and died. I donât think he cared. Hereâs from Sutherlandâs book:
    âOur reasons are simple,â says Chromosomes vocalist and guitarist Dave Rosenberg in the interview. âPlaying music gets you laid and gets you more free drugs.â The bandâs logo was a bat impaled by a hypodermic needle; by the end of the â80s, Rosenberg would be dead from a heroin overdose. But in 1977, he was still just a hell-raising punk, in and out of jail, and the charismatic frontman for one of the cityâs most popular bands.
The Chromosomes sabotaged the 222sâ gear. The last thing you want is to be stood before a crowd of drunk fratboys, you in makeup, your instruments failing while they look back at you expectantly. Challengingly. Sneering at your very existence. The bottling began. A few cups may even have come from side stage (Chromosomes), and the students needed no invitation. Chris didnât know what to do, he was so young! The only thing he could think to do was copy his idol Iggy Pop: he provoked the crowd. The homophobic slurs boldened, and so did Chrisâ taunting: âoh yeah? Iâll screw you too!â
Then the venue killed the sound and turned on the lights. The students smelled blood and victory. In minutes, they had spilled into the streets.
This was Montrealâs first âpunk rock riotâ. 1979. Malcolm McLaren could only dream of such provocation. Though of course, this being Canada, it was largely forgotten. Left to a renewed interest in Canadian punk to bring back the forgotten years of â77-81, particularly outside of Hamilton and Toronto, where people still at least remembered Teenage Head and the BFGs. Canada was better known for the 80s punk scene: of course DOA set the gold standard for how to be a DIY touring punk band and actually hit most of North America. In Montreal, the bands that came out of watching the 222s through the glasses at Station 10 went on to form some of the 80s most influential alternative bands: the Doughboys, Asexuals, Men Without Hats, all came from the same music scene (hell, thereâs even a link between all of those very same bands: John Kastner was in all these bands and was since involved in the setting up and programming of NXNE for the longest time before moving to Canadian Music Week).
But who remembers the Canadian punks? The revolution wasnât televised, and it sure as hell wasnât put down on vinyl. Maybe some shitty 2-track, for whichever punk could afford that. All the recordings of the 222s we have are remastered from a radio session they once did. And a handful of televised appearances, like this one.
