Lorna Doom passed away last week. I missed the Germs (age 9 in 1980 & no older cousins, brothers). It wasn't until high school that Rodney on the Roq introduced me to the band. They sounded almost implausible to my Orange County ears. I wasn't ready. But that era in LA has since fascinated me (a tiny, thrift-store secret society simulacrum was recreated within the shabby interior of Jabberjaw, circa 1991. Didn't miss that, thankfully.).

The original scene is honestly remembered in John Doe's Under the Big Black Sun. It's no Greil Marcus, Peter Guralnick, or Lester Bangs masterpiece, but I think it captures the weirdness and justifiably explains why the bands of that moment never get old.