THE FUCK YOU HEROES documentary film I have been working on is finally going to have it’s world premiere! It will be at the IN EDIT film festival in Barcelona. October 30th, 2026 will be the very first screening then it will show again on November 3rd. I expect to give a Q&A after the 1st screening on the 30th.

We will also re-open my BURNING FLAGS exhibition in Barcelona in the same space we occupied in 2022, POTASSI K19 during the film festival

With an examination of his images Glen E. Friedman returns to the subjects of his photography, the pioneering icons of skateboarding, punk and hip-hop, to talk about what motivated them in their lives and why their rebellious art forms continue to influence, inspire and give hope. To share insights and the common ground between the three culturally positive creative mediums.

Produced over twelve years, Friedman and producer Eric Matthies, along with a handful of friends, conducted fifty two filmed conversations between Glen and his colleagues from the skateboarding, hip hop and punk rock cultures. Working with almost four hundred of Glen’s iconic photographs, editor Eric Pritchard and graphic artist Scott Hsuing built a compelling narrative arc, to which which composer Brendan Canty crafted a resonant score. Academy Award winning recording engineer Craig Mann came onboard to bring the mix to life.

The film was produced with the same ethos and values as the art forms explored in the film – by ourselves, of ourselves, for the love of sharing the story.

FEATURED INTERVIEWS

TONY ALVA, HENRY ROLLINS, CHUCK D., STACY PERALTA, PENELOPE HOUSTON, PEGGY OKI, IAN MACKAYE, LL COOL J, SHEPARD FAIREY, TONY REFLEX, RICK RUBIN, JAY ADAMS, EXENE CERVENKA, DARRYL D.M.C. MCDANIELS, LANCE MOUNTAIN, LISA FANCHER, DOUG E. FRESH, STEVE OLSON, CHUCK DUKOWSKI, ICE-T, MARTY GRIMES, C.R. STECYK III, AL BARILE, ZACK DE LA ROCHA, ADAM HOROVITZ, DUANE PETERS, KING TEE, Q-TIP, KRS-ONE, LEE QUINONES, MIKE D., IAN F. SVENONIUS, JOEY “SHITHEAD” KEITHLEY, RODNEY MULLEN, RUSSELL SIMMONS, DARLENE ORTIZ, DEZ CADENA, CHRISTIAN HOSOI, TOM ”WALLY” INOUYE, JELLO BIAFRA, PAUL “H.R.” HUDSON, KENT SENATORE, PAUL CONSTANTINEAU, TOM GROHOLSKI, KEITH MORRIS, JAY SMITH, HARLEY FLANAGAN, ALAN “OLLIE” GELFAND, NADYA TOLOKONNIKOVA, JOSEPH “RUN” SIMMONS, NEFTALI WILLIAMS, TONY HAWK, GLEN E. FRIEDMAN

PRODUCTION

Directed by Glen E. Friedman Produced by Eric Matthies

Editor and Story Eric Pritchard VFX Scott Hsiung

Score Brendan Canty

Executive Produced by Craig Marshall

Trailer cut by Ezio J Friedman

We don’t have any other public screenings set up at this time, but as soon as we do we will post here and on Instagram, we may even start a website for the film.

Here’s the trailer:

We are also releasing another show supporting poster print! this one will be of RAGE AGAINST THE MACHINE (see below). Zack De La Rocha will be at the exhibition opening to sign them along with Glen, and if you can’t make the opening you can also order on line, but to get a signed one you must order before the 29th!

Hope to see you there!

p.s. to celebrate the forthcoming film we are also bringing the original FUCK YOU HEROES book back in print. A special 3rd edition that’s 9″x9″ a bit smaller for the kids, with a new dust jacket too!

Glen E. Friedman’s most iconic images of Dead Kennedys, as well as many never-before-seen photographs; with words from Shepard Fairey, Ian Svenonius, and Jello Biafra.

Updated Release date: 4 December 2026

WE’VE GOT A BIGGER PROBLEM NOW is the next in the incredible series of Glen E. Friedman’s books of photographs that he has released from his archives over the last five years. The subject this time is Dead Kennedys, the infamous punk band that has inspired and politicized generations since they released their first record in 1979. Dead Kennedys’s debut was the first punk album to top the music charts after the 1977 punk explosion in the UK, and stateside the name alone threw them into the forefront of controversy. Their outspoken lead singer Jello Biafra’s unique voice, political satirizing, and animated performances made them a must-see.

From 1980–1982, Friedman photographed the band in Los Angeles, which had the largest punk scene in the country. Dead Kennedys were one of the earliest bands he photographed, while he was still making photos for SkateBoarder magazine. Friedman was using color film almost exclusively at this point, not yet realizing that there were no publications that covered punk music that printed in color; the underground periodicals of the time, which were few and far between, were only able to print in black-and-white.

We’ve Got a Bigger Problem Now offers many never-before-seen photographs, along with iconic classics of Dead Kennedys previously published over the years. Besides the introduction by Friedman, the book includes text from artist Shepard Fairey, musician/writer Ian Svenonius, and Jello Biafra himself!

Full color and B&W photographs throughout

The book can be ordered directly from the publisher HERE. 

With the options either signed by the author or 25% discount

This book uniquely features almost every single Glen E. Friedman photograph of the Bad Brains, considered by many music fans to be the greatest and most influential American punk rock band of all time. The photographs are from 1981 and 1982, when the band was at its most fiery musical heights. The book also includes an introduction by Friedman, a preface by HR (singer of Bad Brains), and an afterword by Zack de la Rocha (singer of Rage Against the Machine).

Some of these photographs will be recognized as iconic shots that have graced album, book, and magazine covers, while most of them have never been seen before. In his introduction to the volume, Friedman writes, “They were outsiders in the scenes they infiltrated and soon thereafter influenced . . . The Bad Brains were all Black! They showed other punk musicians that in fact you could be an incredible musician and be PUNK at the same time.”

Indeed, many bands beyond the realm of punk cite the Bad Brains as a seminal influence, including Beastie Boys, Living Colour, Jane’s Addiction, and Red Hot Chili Peppers, to name just a few. The artistry of Friedman’s Bad Brains photographs is unparalleled, and music lovers the world over will feast on Fearless Vampire Killers.

The book can be ordered directly from the publisher HERE. 

With the options either signed by the author or 25% discount.

Tulsa, Okla. (Aug. 6, 2025) – The Woody Guthrie Center announces the opening of “Burning Flags,” a powerful exhibition by legendary photographer Glen E. Friedman, on Sept. 19, 2025. The exhibit will be its first showing in the United States after a popular run in Barcelona and Paris. It will bring Friedman’s iconic imagery of early hip-hop, hardcore punk and skateboarding to Tulsa through Feb. 15, 2026. [Extended by popular demand through March 29th 2026]

Featuring over 50 photos and several audio essays read by the subjects, “Burning Flags” presents striking images of artists who have shaped cultural landscapes, including Ian MacKaye, Ice-T, Tony Alva, Jello Biafra, Chuck D., Alan “Ollie” Gelfand and Darryl “DMC” McDaniels. Friedman, known for his raw and uncompromising photography of the hardcore punk, hip-hop and skateboarding scenes, captures the rebellious spirit that echoes the legacy of Woody Guthrie — an artist who used his platform to fight for justice and inspire change.

“My ‘Burning Flags’ exhibition is the enduring photographic legacy of the passionate, iconoclastic individuals I respected and have created with, since 1976 as a young teen — radical skateboarders, revolutionary musical and cultural icons that inspired me,” said Friedman. “The communities of resistance and integrity these originators helped build are here to stay. It is fitting, then, that the U.S. premiere of this work will take place in America’s heartland, at the Woody Guthrie Center, the home of an artist who spent his life fighting against fascism, and for the rights of ordinary people. I am honored and humbled to have the appreciation and support of the American Song Archives to make this possible.”

“‘Burning Flags’ embodies the same fearless activism and cultural commentary that defined Woody Guthrie’s life and work,” said Senior Director of the Woody Guthrie Center Cady Shaw. “Friedman’s photography tells the story of artists who, like Woody, used their voices to challenge the status quo and advocate for a better world. We are honored to share this exhibit with our community and continue the dialogue about art as a vehicle for social change.”

A celebration of the opening will take place Friday, Sept. 19, at the Woody Guthrie Center, with Friedman participating in an on-stage conversation and book signing. Woody Guthrie Center members are invited to a special member exhibit preview before the doors open to the public.

BURNING FLAGS exhibition at the WOODY GUTHRIE CENTER – VIRTUAL WALK THOUGH CLICK HERE!

For more information on “Glen E. Friedman’s Burning Flags exhibition,”upcoming events and to become a member, visit woodyguthriecenter.org.

BURNING FLAGS exhibition at the WOODY GUTHRIE CENTER – VIRTUAL WALK THOUGH CLICK HERE!

Tulsa, Okla. (Aug. 6, 2025) – The Woody Guthrie Center announces the opening of “Burning Flags,” a powerful exhibition by legendary photographer Glen E. Friedman, on Sept. 19, 2025. The exhibit will be its first showing in the United States after a popular run in Barcelona and Paris. It will bring Friedman’s iconic imagery of early hip-hop, hardcore punk and skateboarding to Tulsa through Feb. 15, 2026.

[Extended by popular demand through March 29th 2026]

Featuring over 50 photos and several audio essays read by the subjects, “Burning Flags” presents striking images of artists who have shaped cultural landscapes, including Ian MacKaye, Ice-T, Tony Alva, Jello Biafra, Chuck D., Alan “Ollie” Gelfand and Darryl “DMC” McDaniels. Friedman, known for his raw and uncompromising photography of the hardcore punk, hip-hop and skateboarding scenes, captures the rebellious spirit that echoes the legacy of Woody Guthrie — an artist who used his platform to fight for justice and inspire change.

“My ‘Burning Flags’ exhibition is the enduring photographic legacy of the passionate, iconoclastic individuals I respected and have created with, since 1976 as a young teen — radical skateboarders, revolutionary musical and cultural icons that inspired me,” said Friedman. “The communities of resistance and integrity these originators helped build are here to stay. It is fitting, then, that the U.S. premiere of this work will take place in America’s heartland, at the Woody Guthrie Center, the home of an artist who spent his life fighting against fascism, and for the rights of ordinary people. I am honored and humbled to have the appreciation and support of the American Song Archives to make this possible.”

“‘Burning Flags’ embodies the same fearless activism and cultural commentary that defined Woody Guthrie’s life and work,” said Senior Director of the Woody Guthrie Center Cady Shaw. “Friedman’s photography tells the story of artists who, like Woody, used their voices to challenge the status quo and advocate for a better world. We are honored to share this exhibit with our community and continue the dialogue about art as a vehicle for social change.”

A celebration of the opening will take place Friday, Sept. 19, at the Woody Guthrie Center, with Friedman participating in an on-stage conversation and book signing. Woody Guthrie Center members are invited to a special member exhibit preview before the doors open to the public.

For more information on “Glen E. Friedman’s Burning Flags exhibition,”upcoming events and to become a member, visit woodyguthriecenter.org.

Glen E. Friedman on His Photography, Bad Brains, and Rebellious American Music

In this episode of the Project Censored Show, guest host Mischa Geracoulis, Project Censored’s managing editor, speaks with legendary photographer, Glen E. Friedman, about his latest book of Bad Brains photographs, Fearless Vampire Killers (Akashic Books, 2025), Glen’s work in photography and music, punk rock’s place in history, and the parallels between independent media and independent music. One of the more enduring attributes of Friedman’s work is its unspoken message of championing freedom, especially apropos when civil liberties and human rights are under fire.

Friedman’s iconic Burning Flags traveling exhibition that launched in Barcelona in 2022 will be making its US debut at the Woody Guthrie Center in Tulsa, Oklahoma on September 18, 2025 through February 15, 2026.

This is a podcast and the player could not be imbedded here so click on link below to listen

Glen E. Friedman on His Photography, Bad Brains, and Rebellious American Music

https://www.projectcensored.org/friedman-photography-bad-brains-music/embed/#?secret=t49RTEkhkX

by Kyle Eustice

April 10, 2025

“It was a really beautiful time in punk. Rock ’n’ roll at the time wasn’t providing the energy we needed as teenagers.”

Photographer Glen E. Friedman’s resume reads like an ’80s alt-kid’s dream. Public Enemy, Beastie Boys, Bad Brains, Minor Threat, and Run-DMC are a mere handful of the bands that have stepped in front of his lens. Add professional skateboarders like Tony Alva, Stacy Peralta, and Jay Adams, and a perfect intersection of subcultures that effortlessly defined an era presents itself. 

On April 1, Friedman released his latest book, Fearless Vampire Killers: The Bad Brains Photographs, the title a reference to the band’s “F.V.K. (Fearless Vampire Killers)” single, taken from their 1982 self-titled debut album. Shot between 1981 and ’82, the photographs illustrate the raw, kinetic, and often frantic energy of a Bad Brains show, which made them punk rock legends. 

The preface, written by Bad Brains frontman Paul “H.R.” Hudson, explains the meaning behind that song, one he describes as “a warning to the kids, to let them know what to look out for.” He goes on, “We wanted to encourage kids as they encouraged us, with our attitude that was different — that’s what I was singing about … just to be more positive and refreshing compared to a lot of other bands.” 

Friedman recognized this early on. He’d heard about “these Black guys from D.C. who played really fast” through word of mouth, and was intrigued. At the first couple of Bad Brains shows he attended, there were never more than 20 people in the room, but there was something magic happening. 

“It was like nothing else,” Friedman told the Voice, during the interview that follows. “A lot of punk bands back then, everyone had really individual takes on punk rock. It was a really beautiful time in punk. Rock ’n’ roll at the time wasn’t providing the energy we needed as teenagers.

“[Bad Brains’] greatness was undeniable. Their mastery of their instruments was undeniable, and everyone respected that. And besides that, it was fucking hella fun to see them play.”

“When I saw them for the first time, they only had the first single out, ‘Pay to Cum,’ and you literally could not tell what he was saying because he was speaking so fast. It was just exciting. The whole set, they came out with all these hardcore anthems, like ‘P.M.A.,’ ‘Fearless Vampire Killers,’ and ‘How Low Can a Punk Get.’ After you saw them, you were fanatical about them.” 

The photos in the first section of the book were taken during the summer of ’81, at the New York City club A7, at Avenue A and East 7th Street, and later at 2+2, located at 2 Second Avenue, in the East Village, where Bad Brains didn’t hit the stage until 3 a.m. In every black and white shot, H.R., shirtless and wearing a ratty pair of Adidas paired with slacks, seems to be in another realm, singing from the soul and pouring every ounce of emotion he has into the performance. Backed by bassist Darryl Jenifer, drummer and brother Earl Hudson, and guitarist Dr. Know, H.R. commanded the stage — and Friedman’s camera caught it. 

Friedman took a total of 90 black and white photos of Bad Brains, all shot in New York City, along with a small selection of color images he shot in ’82 at the Whiskey A Go Go and the Ukrainian Culture Center, in Los Angeles. Friedman admits that “not every shot is excellent by any means,” but F.V.K. was made for “those deeply interested in the Bad Brains,” punk, and his own photography.

Fearless Vampire Killers concludes with an afterword by Rage Against the Machine’s Zack de la Rocha, who calls his first Bad Brains experience a “historical encounter,” one “where sound, fury, and Black resilience intersect.” This caps an intimate look at a band — ultimately torn apart by internal strife and H.R.’s long-undiagnosed mental illness — that permanently changed the landscape of punk rock and influenced countless others, not just to challenge racial stereotypes but to completely disregard them. (The following interview has been edited for length and clarity.)

◊ ◊ ◊

Village Voice: I was surprised to read you were initially hesitant to take photos of Bad Brains.

Glen E. Friedman: I didn’t know the Bad Brains and didn’t want to make pictures of anyone that I didn’t know. It took me a little while to get the nerve up to actually take photos of them. It was probably about the fifth show that I saw them. By that time, I had taken pictures of the Stimulators and got one in SkateBoarder magazine, showing the energy of punk rock. It was young and exciting, and it was new. People who weren’t born at the time can’t understand how revolutionary that really was. 

It sounds like it took a minute for H.R. to warm up to the idea too. Why do you think that is? 

Back then, people weren’t in pictures that much. To be photographed at a gig, that’s kind of like a rock star thing. So with someone like me, who’s very up close, intentional, and intense, I’m framing those moments and making those moments on film to get the excitement and intensity to share with other people. And because of my skateboarding days, I was able to do that. 

If you see those moments, you need to snap, but you need to focus and make sure the flash is working and that everything is on point right in that exact moment. You miss a lot of those moments because the clubs are mostly pitch-black. The way you see the images in most of the photos in that book, it didn’t look like that to people in the club. Focusing was no easy task.

And as you stated, you weren’t a voyeur, you more of an active participant?

I skated, slammed at punk shows, and went to hip-hop clubs without my camera. I carried my camera less than a quarter of the time I went to punk shows. To be a part of all three of these cultures and have a very meaningful part in all three of them meant so much to me. It’s really gratifying and makes me feel good that I did what I did and that I worked as hard as I did. Quite honestly, I had no idea that they would stand the test of time or that they would go beyond the era that they were created.

What was special about them? 

We hadn’t really heard anyone play their instruments with such ferocity, and plus, H.R.’s vocals, he was like a speed talker. It was just exciting because it’s the energy that we all had as teenagers.

In the book, you say Bad Brains was at their creative peak in ’80 and ’81. But I thought Quickness (1989) and I Against I (1986) were amazing albums too. 

The era I saw them was most well-represented by the Black Dots demo. The other stuff, like Rock for Light, I thought was crap. It was very poorly produced, even though it was produced in a big studio. All the records after that, each one had a good song or two, but mostly I didn’t really care for them. I remember when they started playing reggae in ’82. A lot of the New York heads, they were just moshing at this by this point, and they liked the reggae, but I didn’t like that. I never was a reggae fan. If I wanted to do reggae, I’d hear Peter Tosh or someone else play. I’m not here to say anything bad about them, but reggae didn’t hold my interest. They didn’t play that at the beginning. It was a different time, and they were incredibly influential, incredibly inspirational, and just fantastic.

How old were you in 1980? 

I was 18.

“I’m not a documentarian. I did it to inspire people. I didn’t do it to document the moment … I did it to frame it, compose it, and make it look as beautiful and as inspiring as it was to me.”

So you feel that people who didn’t get introduced to Bad Brains until Rock for Light really didn’t get to see the raw form of them?

Yeah. I Against I had “Coptic Times.” That’s probably the best song that they made after the ROIR [Reachout International Records] cassette [in 1982], in my opinion. That’s probably the last great recording that they made. It just had the ferociousness, intensity, and aggressiveness of the earlier stuff.

Have you seen them play since? 

I saw them many years later, at one of their first reunion shows, and H.R. just stood still the whole night and was wearing glasses. It was very disappointing. It was over 20 years ago, and everyone was slam dancing and doing what they were doing. It was here in New York, at the Irving Plaza, but it was nothing like earlier shows. It was really kind of depressing actually, but kids who were all there were happy to see them play, because they had never had the opportunity to see them play at their peak. But as someone who had seen them play at their peak, it was very disappointing. But their influence is undeniable. Their greatness was undeniable. Their mastery of their instruments was undeniable, and everyone respected that. And besides that, it was fucking hella fun to see them play.

That’s the one word that kept popping out in H.R.’s preface — fun. They wanted to have fun, and I think they accomplished that for a lot of years. It’s really sad to see what has happened to the group as the years went on, the disintegration. Has that been tough for you to witness?

I knew H.R. in the early ’80s, and then I saw him again at Lollapalooza years later. He seemed like a completely different person. I think there was some schizophrenia lurking in there and it was very different. He barely recognized me. I don’t mind that, but I just felt bad for him. He was speaking in a different voice, so it was very peculiar. He was there, though he wasn’t playing. He was just there hanging out because the Beastie Boys were there, and he was always friends with them. It was the trajectory of what happened with them that was very bizarre, unexpected, and unfortunate. That’s why I was convinced by Zack de la Rocha and [Fugazi and Minor Threat’s] Ian MacKaye to literally print every single photo I ever took of them. The book leaves out almost none. 

You could tell by looking at the proof sheets that I left out almost none of the images and in fact, most of them are used in the order they were actually taken as well. I switched the order a few times just because of how they looked on the page, but that’s the minority of cases. I think it shows a progression of the band and the night that we photographed. If you look at the shots at A7, H.R. comes out with a jacket on and by the end of the show, he’s shirtless. The band is dry at the beginning and sweaty at the end. At A7, you see the American flag was behind Reagan Youth and behind the Bad Brains until about a couple songs in and all of a sudden the flag is no longer on the wall. There’s some great stuff in that book as far as helping people understand the energy, intensity, and closeness of it all during that era. 

Were they all small venues? 

The Whiskey a Go-Go, in L.A., was equivalent to CBGBs in many ways as far as size is concerned. And then that Ukrainian Hall show was the biggest show, and I didn’t shoot many pictures there. That’s why they look the way they do; they’re with a longer lens because you had a bigger stage, it wasn’t as intimate and the lighting of my pictures is different than it is on the beautiful black and white shots of the other shows. Most of the images were taken in clubs, very small places.

What were the challenges of shooting in places like that? 

People don’t recognize that there’s very little light. Because of my skateboarding background, I was able to predict a little bit more accurately than most where someone was going to be, but also the flash, because it’s so bright, gave you a depth of field that gave you some room for error.

You easily bridged the gaps between skateboarding, punk rock, and hip-hop. When you look back on your career, what’s the feeling you get about what you’ve accomplished or documented?

I don’t consider it documentation either, honestly. I’m not a documentarian. I did it to inspire people. I didn’t do it to document the moment. I didn’t do it to capture the moment. I did it to frame it, compose it, and make it look as beautiful and as inspiring as it was to me. I’m very proud that I was able to do it and that I had the fortitude to do it at the time that I did. There were always other people. Wherever I was photographing, rarely was I the only one. There were other people there, but I had my own take on it. I did it a different way. It was my blood. It was my life. I was living it. I wasn’t a voyeur. I didn’t shoot skateboarding because I only wanted to get in the magazine. I was making skateboarding photos because I wanted other people to be inspired by the incredible things that I was seeing that I knew had never been done before or seen before by anyone, anywhere on the planet. It was very exciting to me as a youth. I had never been involved in something that was so unique and so special. 

What I was seeing, I took very seriously. The same thing happened with punk rock a couple years later. All these things happened one after the other. It was a natural progression of when I was exposed to them just before they became more accepted or understood. None of them were mainstream, by the way, except hip-hop became mainstream. But during the period that I was doing it, they were all fringe activities done by subcultures. I think the work speaks for itself for people who have the artistic eye and understand composition, intensity, and integrity. I think that the images and photographs I created with the subjects stand alone in their quality.   ❖

FEARLESS VAMPIRE KILLERS uniquely features almost every single Glen E. Friedman photograph of the Bad Brains, considered by many music fans to be the greatest and most influential American punk rock band of all time. The photographs are from 1981 and 1982, when the band was at its most fiery musical heights. The book also includes an introduction by Friedman, a preface by HR (singer of Bad Brains), additional words from Darryl Jenifer (bassist of Bad Brains) and an incredible afterword by Zack de la Rocha (singer of Rage Against the Machine).

Some of these photographs will be recognized as iconic shots that have graced album, book, and magazine covers, while most of them have never been seen before. In his introduction to the volume, Friedman writes, “They were outsiders in the scenes they infiltrated and soon thereafter influenced . . . The Bad Brains were all Black! They showed other punk musicians that in fact you could be an incredible musician and be PUNK at the same time.”

Indeed, many bands beyond the realm of punk cite the Bad Brains as a seminal influence, including Beastie Boys, Living Colour, Jane’s Addiction, and Red Hot Chili Peppers, to name just a few. The artistry of Friedman’s Bad Brains photographs is unparalleled, and music lovers the world over will feast on Fearless Vampire Killers.

The book can be ordered directly from the publisher HERE.
With the options either signed by the author or 25% discount.

When The Kids Were United – Glen E. Friedman’s Just A Minor Threat

Just a Minor Threat is a welcome addition to Friedman’s music photography collections. It’s been well worth the wait for one about the most influential hardcore band in punk history.

Coming as it does, hot on the heels of What I See, Friedman’s journey into the world of Black Flag (Akashic, 2022), Just a Minor Threat solidifies his place as a chronicler of late 20th-century American underground music and countercultures.

Glen E. Friedman’s books have covered the worlds of skateboarding, hardcore punk, hip hop, and protest art in its various forms.

Featuring over 140 photos inside a coffee-table-sized book, Just a Minor Threat shows Friedman capturing the legendary Washington DC band on film as he first came to know them, something that the book details occurred about midway through its career.

Minor Threat began in late 1980, and Friedman started shooting them in the summer of 1982. The band would play its last show a little over a year after that, but once Friedman began shooting them, he couldn’t stop.

In the process, the photographer built an extraordinary visual archive, on full display here, of the foundational DIY hardcore band working at the peak of its creative powers.

This journey takes us from Minor Threat’s early four-member formation, led by the charismatic and drill-sergeant-esque Ian MacKaye, through their peak as a five-piece, and finally back to their original lineup as internal conflicts took their toll.

In the writing accompanying Just A Minor Threat’s black and white photos, Friedman explains that he had seen Minor Threat even earlier than his photos indicate, in 1981, but hadn’t been fortunate enough to start shooting them then.

Friedman writes of having first heard Minor Threat well before that, at the behest of Boise, Idaho-based artist Brian “Pushead” Schroeder, who would go on to design album art for the likes of Metallica and Blink 182’s Travis Barker.

Friedman gave the band a listen: “Truth be told, I didn’t get it when I heard the first 7″ from Minor Threat,” he confesses in the introduction. “But half a year later, I heard their second 7-inch extended player (‘In My Eyes’) and it knocked me out….I was now a Minor Threat fan, on my way to becoming an ambassador and propagandist.”

The fan dynamic worked both ways in Friedman’s case, as many in Minor Threat (like frontman Ian MacKaye) were involved in the skateboarding scene, which Friedman was busily documenting to growing renown through the pages of magazines like Thrasher, a punk favourite.

With Glen E. Friedman’s photography already well-known to punks in DC, his transition to documentarian of the US capital’s best band seemed natural.

One of the chief pleasures of reading Just a Minor Threat has been discovering things about the band I did not know, especially in the text that accompanies the rare photos and outtakes, many of which have never officially appeared in print anywhere else before now.

Of course, aside from his many photographs of Minor Threat live, Friedman took what is probably the band’s single best-known photo – certainly the band’s most iconic group shot – featuring the four bandmates sitting on the front porch of Dischord House in Arlington, Virginia, in August of 1983.

In classical black and white, we see Ian MacKaye sitting on the steps in the foreground, all bulging knees and worn sneakers, looking with calm confidence into Friedman’s slightly fish-eyed lens, his cleanshaven head resembling a bullet.

Behind MacKaye, to the right, is Minor Threat drummer and Dischord label co-founder Jeff Nelson, sitting in a chair with a skateboard leaning against the wall beside him.

Bespectacled bassist Brian Baker has made a seat of an empty, overturned wooden crate of Pepsi to MacKaye’s left, his mop of white hair looking like it’s been recently bleached.

And in the back, guitarist Lyle Preslar (a lawyer since 2008) strikes a casual pose, the most misleadingly conventional looking of them all, cross-legged in a second chair on the porch.

Glen E. Friedman later remarked in getting this shot, “I was trying basically for punk rock to mimic American Gothic. That’s what inspired me: this family of punk rock, this house, and this band that practised in the basement there. That’s what I was going for.”

This beguiling and even wryly unassuming portrait of what could be an ordinary suburban garage band contrasts brilliantly with the overwhelming ferocity of the Minor Threat’s live shows, vocal style, lyrics, and music. It is one of the jewels in Friedman’s photographic crown.

The photo was used as the cover for Minor Threat’s posthumous release, the Salad Days EP. The image has also appeared on many unauthorised and bootlegged t-shirts and stickers—all countless reprints from which neither Friedman nor Minor Threat has seen a dime.

Unbeknownst to casual fans, the Salad Days photo was taken as the band was beginning its break up. The relatively placid nature of the photograph belies the fact that the group was, at that time, locked in a death spiral of internal feuding.

Another set of photos in the book stands out, too. Shot in December 1982 in New York, the band are bundled up in scarves and overcoats and looks as if they could be a young postpunk act on the shadowy streets of Manchester, hoping for a gig at the Hacienda.

Lyle Preslar looks a bit like Ian Curtis in one photo, front and centre, in a trench coat as though he were the vocalist, while MacKaye hangs out in the rear, breaking the picture’s bleak spell by mugging for the camera.

The rest of the band have a sullen and mysterious air about them. It’s a downright Joy Division-like presentation of the band. Anton Corbijn could very well have shot it.

Still, Friedman’s photos are his own. They capture a bunch of fresh-faced teens causing a ruckus, innocently unaware of the influence that they would have on subsequent generations of artists.

Many punk bands sing of youth, but few are young themselves. Even fewer are both young and musically proficient enough to capture youth’s unbridled exuberance, chaos, and anger like Minor Threat did.

That includes Glen E. Friedman, who knew exactly when to focus on the band and document it at its prime.

That’s what great photojournalism is all about and why Just a Minor Threat will be as influential a collection as its subject matter.

Glen E. Friedman photograph courtesy of Jean Lim. All rights reserved.

Renowned photographer Glen E. Friedman’s latest book is an ode to one of D.C.’s most influential and admired punk bands.

by Alona Wartofsky October 6th, 2023

The first time Glen E. Friedman listened to a Minor Threat record—the band’s 1981 self-titled debut—he wasn’t particularly impressed. 

“There was something about the production and the [eight] songs being on the seven-inch, it was really cool,” Friedman recalls. “But I just didn’t get it. It just didn’t click with me.”

Months later, when Friedman listened to the band’s subsequent release, In My Eyes, he changed his mind. “The second record … actually made a profound impression on me, and it forced me to go back and listen to the first one. And I was like, ‘Wow, I’m really an idiot. I missed this the first time for some reason. It’s so cool, and it’s so good and melodic,’” he recalls. “It’s just, like, really great, unique punk rock.”

At the time, Friedman was in his late teens and had already made a name for himself in skateboarding circles by becoming, at age 14, the youngest contributing staff photographer for SkateBoarder magazine. In the decades that followed, he would become a renowned photographer admired for his iconic images from the holy trinity of outsider cultures: skateboarding, punk rock, and early hip-hop. Now his photographs are in the collections of multiple museums, including New York’s Metropolitan Museum of Art and the Smithsonian’s National Museum of American History. He has also published between eight and 12 books, depending on how you count various editions, including Fuck You Heroes, consisting of photographs from 1976 to 1991, and Fuck You Too: Extras + More Scrapbook, with additional music and skating photographs through 2004. In 2019, Friedman published Together Forever, pairing images of Run–D.M.C. with the Beastie Boys. His other books include the career-spanning My Rules collection published by Rizzoli International, and a book of Fugazi photographs. His new collection, Just a Minor Threat: The Minor Threat Photographs of Glen E. Friedman, from Brooklyn-based independent publisher Akashic Books, came out Oct. 3.

The new collection features 140 images shot over the course of 13 months, a significant portion of Minor Threat’s two brief incarnations. Soon after the band debuted in 1980, it became one of the most popular acts in the local “harDCore” scene. For Friedman and countless young people in and around D.C.—and across the country—vocalist Ian MacKaye and the rest of Minor Threat would be elevated to punk demigods. In his introduction to Just a Minor Threat, Friedman describes the band’s records as “important, life-affirming, authentic, and inspiring.” Of the band’s live shows, Friedman says that they were “a hydrogen bomb of excitement on the stage and in the crowd.” He writes: “I wanted to be a part of what they were doing. I wanted to help spread the word.”

Friedman began working on this new book in the fall of 2022 at the urging of Rage Against the Machine frontman Zack de la Rocha. A longtime Minor Threat fan, de la Rocha contributed a heartfelt essay to the book that connects the dots between his love of both Minor Threat and Friedman’s artistry. Of Freidman, de la Rocha writes: “Calling him a photographer or simply a documentarian doesn’t encompass what’s involved here. The line between witness and participant isn’t just blurred, it’s burned and left in ruins.” Friedman returns the adulation, telling City Paper, “Here’s a guy who sells out Madison Square Garden five nights in a row and is a wonderful political activist. And a man of integrity has written these words about how Minor Threat and my work has affected him.”

As Friedman sifted through the decades-old photographs, he found that the passage of time had altered how he perceived their purpose. When he originally shot the images in the early ’80s, he was very intentional about how he wanted to portray the band. “As years go on, there’s a greater understanding of the culture on many levels, so you don’t have to be the punch in the face; you don’t have to have the perfect image to tell the story,” he says. “I am now sharing more culturally interesting aspects of those moments and maybe not the perfect compositions. But there’s still interesting shit going on, and why should those images that I made back then just sit in a folder and not be seen if they’re presentable?”

In our current smartphone era, anyone who owns one can easily take hundreds of photographs in a day. “You could walk around the city and take 200 pictures on your phone,” says Friedman. “I only pressed the shutter 200 times with Minor Threat in front of it.”

Of those 200 images, 140 are included in the new book, and most of them have not previously appeared elsewhere. All of them capture an era when, explains Friedman, time simultaneously moved quickly and slowly. “In all three things that I covered—in punk rock, skateboarding, and hip-hop—those golden eras, it’s like a week was a month, a month was a year, two months was like five years,” he says. “So much evolution happened in the creativity … all of these records came out, and those are all the foundation.”

Friedman first shot Minor Threat performing live at The Barn at Alpine Village in Torrance, California, on July 3, 1982. The final time was on Aug. 2, 1983, at Dischord House in Arlington. That day yielded the famous front porch photograph that would serve as the cover for Minor Threat’s 1985 7-inch EP, Salad Days, which was released two years after the band broke up. Since then, that image has become a celebrated distillation of the band’s everypunk ethos. 

“I don’t even know why that picture became the iconic punk rock picture that it seems to be now,” says Friedman, though he concedes that “it’s a beautiful composition.”

The new book includes every shot from the half roll that Friedman took on the front porch, yard, and inside the house that day. Some of them feature a lawn mower and a skateboard with an image of Cynthia Connolly’s black sheep from Minor Threat’s seminal 1983 song “Out of Step.” “I just wanted to make a cool picture on the porch because I loved hanging out there,” Friedman says. For him, the one that became famous was the perfect image. Friedman has always considered Minor Threat to be different from Black Flag’s Henry Rollins and all of the other “Fuck You” heroes that he celebrated in his photographs. “Minor Threat were like—they were us. They were our friends. They were approachable,” he says. “They were the everyman group.” 

In recent years, people have doctored that photograph for comic effect, sharing new images on social media that substitute the seated members of Minor Threat with characters from The Simpsons, as well as the Beatles and Black Sabbath. “I love them all. I think they’re all hilarious and great, and it’s an honor,” says Friedman. “But some of them don’t really speak to me.” Unsurprisingly, he is less enthralled with the one depicting television’s Golden Girls on the Dischord House front porch.

***

Friedman, 61, spent his childhood in New Jersey, New York City, and California. He acquired his first skateboard, the old-fashioned type with clay wheels, when he first moved to California with his mother in the early 1970s. His interest in baseball was soon replaced by skateboarding. His peers were into motocross, Evel Knievel, and other daredevil pursuits. 

“Skateboarding was the next step in that,” he says. “It was thrilling. And it was something you did on your own without any parents involved, something that we had to discover and figure out on our own. When you’re doing Little League, or football, or soccer, parents have to drive you to the field or sign you up. Skateboarding and punk rock, there was no signing up, you just did it yourself.”

Like most American kids during the ’70s, Friedman was not closely supervised by his parents. “I think that’s kind of what made these things happen for me,” he says.

Other life experiences, including the bicoastal upbringing that resulted from his parents’ divorce, may have shaped Friedman’s affinity for outsider cultures. “I was a bit of an outsider, because I didn’t grow up where I was living … A bit of a loner, or not super social. I never fit in perfectly in either place,” he says.

Another distinctive aspect of his work is the masculinity of his subjects. “Skateboarding and punk rock, they were both very aggressive. And I was a male teenager at the time, and that’s kind of what you do: aggressive, rowdy things,” he says. “You do what the fuck you want. And you don’t care [about] the ramifications.”

In his early teens, Friedman received a “D” in a photography class because he didn’t follow the assignments and eschewed the required 35mm camera for a plastic pocket Instamatic, a more practical choice for an active skateboarder. He first visited the area during the late 1970s for a skateboarding photo session. Later, when he first met MacKaye and his brother Alec, the three bonded over their shared love for skateboarding, and he was struck by the friendliness of the local punk scene. “They actually recognized me from SkateBoarder magazine, and my photographs inspired them in different ways before they were punks,” Friedman says. “We all loved the same music. We were listening to Black Flag and we were at a Bad Brains show. And it was just great that this brotherhood of skateboarding and skateboarders could extend to a new brotherhood of punk rock.”

The friendship quickly deepened through shared musical passions and idealism. “We all had very high ideals on making culture and society better. And if you listen to lyrics that 18, 19-year-old Ian MacKaye wrote, he’s talking about personal problems, serious issues in his life [that] so much of us could relate to.” Friedman continues, “There were other bands that had talked about social issues that were very valid and great and psychological, personal issues. But the music that Minor Threat created was really fantastic.”

Friedman returned to D.C. in August 1982 to shoot a Minor Threat performance at 9:30 Club; later that year, he shot the band live at New York’s CBGB. When photographing skateboarders, Friedman often used wide angle lenses. “You’d like to get as close to the action as possible, the intensity of the moment while still showing the environment that it’s happening in,” he explains. When he was shooting the chaos of Minor Threat and other punk bands on stage, his skateboarding background was invaluable. “My sense of timing coming from skateboarding was able to capture those peak moments, and be really close to stuff without being scared and being right in the mix,” he says. “Because I was a skateboarder, I took great skateboard photos. Because I was a punk rocker. I took good punk photos … Both of those things meant everything to me, helping me survive [my] teenage years.”

The progressivism and activism he picked up along the way shaped his understanding of what makes a contemporary hero, as evidenced by his 1994 Fuck You Heroes collection. “It wasn’t saying ‘fuck you’ to heroes. These people were heroes because they said ‘fuck you’ … to common bullshit, to everyday society, to everything that was going on around them and made their own existence powerful and inspiring,” Friedman says. 

His current heroes include anti-gun activist X González, as well as U.S. Representative Alexandria Ocasio–Cortez. Friedman has been trying to photograph AOC for four years, but despite his considerable efforts and celebrity, he has so far been unsuccessful. “She’s just next-level amazing,” he says. “She speaks truth to power every fucking day.”

Along with de la Rocha and other musicians, Just a Minor Threat also includes texts by local music heroes Alec MacKaye, Guy Picciotto, and Ian Svenonius. All of them help put Friedman’s photographs—and everything that Minor Threat meant to its fans—in perspective. 

For Friedman, Minor Threat and all of his other “Fuck You” heroes made an indelible mark on American culture. “They set a fucking foundation in place for progressive ideas and ideals in youth to understand that there’s really a different way of thinking than what your parents are telling you … Some people had great parents, of course, and they were progressive; they were radical too. But these foundations gave you the confidence to think that your own ideals were good enough. And that’s what makes you a Minor Threat.”

Just a Minor Threat: The Minor Threat Photographs of Glen E. Friedman is out now; Friedman will discuss the book with Ian MacKaye at 2 p.m. on Oct. 8 at Martin Luther King Jr. Memorial Library. dclibrary.org. Free; registration required.

original article appears on-line HERE