Re-Unthinking the Politics of Dirt

This is a faux interview I did with myself in which I explain the genesis of the Dirthead movement. It seemed really funny at the time I wrote it, but as of right now, I'm having a hard time imagining why I would write something so stupid. But here I am re-releasing it, so... whatever. Originally appeared in Shat Upon 'zine in 1998.

Have Americans become so pastoral that we've now got no room for the Dirtheads? In this groundbreaking interview, frequent Shat Upon contributor "Stoner" Steve Bickner probes the mind of radical social theorist and 1990 Hellgate High grad Yale Kaul seeking historical and first-hand perspective on an oft-neglected yet so profoundly fascinating subgroup.

SU: What exactly are the origins of the Dirts? Is it strictly an American phenomenon?

YK: It is the source of considerable debate as to the origins of the Dirts. Many men in the 1970s looked a lot like 80s Dirtheads, but, in sooth, the two are unrelated. No, the seventies male with the long hair, sleeveless half-shirt, and bad moustache is more accurately referred to as a "skeeze," and is more a quasi-direct descendant of the hippies. This is evidenced by countless album covers wherein someone you might think of as a proto-Dirt is really someone who digs on Seals & Crofts and Bread and so forth. As much as it pains me, Steve, I've come to accept that the Eighties Dirt was born of the British metal invasion, probably the second or third wave. Of course, I'm talking about Dokken, Accept, Vinnie Vincent Invasion and shit like that. Beyond that, the Dirthead scene became largely localized, engendering thousands of variations of Dirts, no two of which are entirely alike.

SU: That begs the question: Did Dirtheadism arise from Heavy Metal or vice versa?

YK: I suppose there have always been people who have exhibited Dirthead qualities, even before the advent of Heavy Metal. That is to say, without Heavy Metal, Dirts would really have no rallying point, no icons with which they may align themselves.

SU: I know there is no official "party line" for Dirts, but could you explain some of the basics?

YK: The central tenets of Dirtism are vague indeed, but they do exhibit recurring and telltale themes to enough of a degree that one can make educated inferences about them. First, most Dirts had a general contempt for authority and society, but don't appear to have any real grounded reasons why, beyond the fact that marijuana is illegal and their parents hate the music they listen to. I mean, that's really about all it is. However, this point alone would serve to explain the fetishistic Dirt practices of bathroom-wall graffitiing, desk carving, locker engraving, and jean-jacket-band-logo festoonery. I'll bet dollars to donuts that there isn't one American high school that doesn't have a desk with a Dirt-rendered pot leaf on it!

SU: Please, more on the jean jacket thing...

YK: Sure. Dirts are readily identifiable by... well, let me say that there weren't many other groups for whom jean jackets were still held in high regard. Denim jackets had just recently fallen out of favor with the jocks and the preps, but for Dirts, this was the primary and secondary expression of their creed. By the time they entered high school, most Dirts already had their main jacket decorated with the logos of bands of the day, usually painstakingly rendered in blue ballpoint pen or laundry marker. One girl in my study hall had a pair of stonewashed Levi's with a huge "Dio" logo going down her thigh. It was utterly amazing for its intricacy and its size! I mean, she must've used four or five Bic pens just to finish the 'D.'

SU: Which bands were best represented on Dirtheads' jean jackets?

YK: It was just as you'd expect. Dio, Motley Crue, AC/DC. Metallica was extraordinarily huge in those days. In point of fact, I'd say that about every single Hellgate Dirthead had Metallica written on his jean jacket. I mean, it was just a given: If you want to be a Dirt, you'll have to have a Metallica insignia on your jacket.

SU: What else were they writing on their jean jackets? Was it just band logos?

YK: Well, the band logo took precedence over whatever other messages they were trying to convey. Dirts at my high school —and remember, this is in the late 80s— had taken to referring to themselves as Dirts, you know, as opposed to taking it as an insult. in fact going so far as writing "Dirt Pride" all over the lockers and desks, and of course on their denim jackets. It was about this time that I began to observe the stultifying frequency with which band names, and even common English words, were misspelled. For example, there was a boy who had "Angle of Death" on his jacket and I remember a girl who wrote "Satin Rules," although it may have been "Satin Rulez." I was forced to call into question the strength of their convictions. I mean, how convincing can you be as a Satan worshipper if you can't even spell it?

SU: Besides the denim jacket, what are some examples of typical Dirthead fashion?

YK: Those circular Copenhagen caps were extremely popular. This was about the time when tobacco companies started giving out those "Camel Bucks" type of things, so that we saw an increase in tobacco logo wear. Black concert T-shirts are essential. Those white Nike shoes with the red stripe or the well-worn high-tops, unlaced. Some of your more renegade Dirtheads would wear jack boots.

SU: And what about the familiar Metal Respelling Paradigm, the double 'K' and so forth?

YK: You're referring to conventions such as "Lyk My Fukkin' Dykk," right? First of all, that was largely the province of the Glam Metal scene, which was only one faction of the Dirts. But no, I don't subscribe to the theory that those spellings were unintentional. I think that that was one of those deliberate malignings of the language that are so popular among insurgent groups these days. It's just like when the feminists began appropriating "women" as "wimmyn." Some say that it's just absurd, kind of a red herring, but I think that in the case of the Dirthead movement, it was a very bold and clever aesthetic thing to do. Let's be glad they didn't start spelling it "Durts" or "Durtz!"

SU: So, where did the movement falter? Can you point to a single incident, or was it a steady descent?

YK: Like I mentioned earlier, I don't think that there was an appreciable amount of time that Dirtheads spent looking at the bigger picture. By that I mean that Dirts didn't really take the time to acknowledge their heritage beyond playing the first Black Sabbath album over and over. You'd think they would have gone back, maybe picked up an Uli Jon Roth album or something and pondered their place in time. Having neglected to do so, I think that most Dirts experienced a kind of anomie, or normlessness. I also think that bands like Def Leppard really sounded the death knell for Dirtheads. You really start to feel less legitimate as a group when cheerleaders are listening to bands you like or used to like.

SU: Do you think that the Dirthead movement will enjoy a resurgence as nostalgia sets in?

YK: Absolutely. Just as the Seventies were nostalgic for the Fifties, with American Graffiti and Happy Days, I think that the first decade of the new millenium will find themselves looking to the past. It'll start with a skit on one of those sketch comedy shows, and a movie will spin off of that. Then maybe a sitcom. Maybe it'll be just like Friends only it'll be called Dirts and the whole show is set in some shithole apartment drinking and smoking Marlboros. That's my prediction.