Mr. Rollins,

In my more rebellious youth I graffitied my brown paper bag book covers with the iconic, bold black bars of the Black Flag logo. I listened to the Rollins Band at volumes loud enough to cause both temporary hearing and memory loss. The music, driving and primal, spoke to young me on a level older me has trouble reconciling with now. I remember those days with the fondness of misunderstood youth and the rage to escape the gilded cage and set loose upon the world. Continue reading →