Taang! comes to the South

Label owner Curtis Casella invests in ATL’s punk scene


Taang! Records was born in Boston in 1984. Curtis Casella founded the label in the footsteps of Washington, D.C.’s Dischord Records and Los Angeles’ SST — cultural institutions serving the local punk and hardcore communities — and to represent Boston’s explosive, early ’80s music scene. The name is an anagram for “Teen Agers Are No Good!” an allusion to the volatile riots breaking out during shows at the time. Taang! was quickly branded a stronghold for punk, hardcore, oi, and ska music. But over the years Casella fostered a singularly progressive environment, releasing albums by staple punk and hardcore acts the Dickies, Gang Green, and Dropkick Murphys alongside more experimental acts such as Mission of Burma, Spacemen 3, and former PiL guitarist Keith Levene.

??
After moving from Boston to L.A. to San Diego, Casella set his sights on Atlanta in the form of a new Taang! ATL record shop. Working with former Antidote vocalist Louis Rivera and Southern Soundclash Distribution owner Laremy Wade, Casella opened a small store in the Taang! Music Lounge on Nov. 21 at 3118 in the West End’s Metropolitan Lofts (675 Metropolitan Parkway S.W.). Complete with a stage, gallery space, and recording facilities, the space hosts punk and hip-hop shows, beat battles, and other experimental art and music gatherings. On the eve of the record shop’s grand opening, Casella sat down to talk about Atlanta, working with the local community, and what record stores did for him.

??
How do you know Louis Rivera and Laremy Wade, and why did you pick them to run the Taang! Atlanta shop?

??
I know Louis from the hardcore scene. I saw Antidote play back in the day, and I flew him out to San Diego for Punk Rock Bowling last year. We had five of our bands playing, and when he saw the store he said he wanted to bring the vibe to Atlanta. Laremy has the space in the Metropolitan. I told Louis I’d like to have a space here and he worked with Laremy to make it happen. ... We’ve never been represented in the South, and this is our fourth city. It started in Boston, went to L.A. for a while, went to San Diego, and now we have Taang! ATL.

??
Do you usually work with someone who already lives in a city and knows the local punk scene?

??
Basically, if you have people you can trust there, you can have a business there. With records coming back as much as they have, a record store is a cool thing. All the people that I met within my first hour of being here all seem to want to do something — make a scene. You can’t say that about a lot of other cities. I first came here in the early ’80s with the F.U.’s. We slept on the stage. And I remember Stevie Stiletto and the Switchblades were the other band that played. At the time there were a ton of bands from Atlanta putting out their own records, but there was never a label that properly represented Atlanta. From what I can tell it’s still like that. We signed Anti-Heros. You’d think an Atlanta label would’ve signed them, but we did it.

??
There is perpetual energy in Atlanta’s music scene. Does it feel different from the other cities where you’ve worked?

??
There’s energy, tons of places to play, and tons of space here. The only thing I can compare it to is Boston in the ’80s. That’s what it was, loft spaces having shows. When you go around the country you see a lot of little clubs or someone set up in an industrial area, but not like this. This is a warehouse of just artists and Taang! ATL is in the middle of it all. There’s a guy detailing cars next door, and another guy doing tattoos on the other side. It’s unique. The only thing that bothers me about this place is when I came here and saw that big blue tower, it reminded me of the movie Hostel! laughs

??
What is the value of having a record store?

??
The music I grew up with was everything from heavy metal to glam rock. When you listen to music from a certain genre for a while it becomes your main focus. Then you’re let down by it and you go to another genre. Back then you could return records. I could say, “I paid $3.99 for this record and it sucks!” The guy at the counter would say, “Pick out another record.” So I found Dictators. I thought, “These guys look cool, they look like wrestlers, and they’re kind of edgy.” Overnight it went Dictators, Damned, Ramones. Instantly. ... When you’re young you’re narrow-minded, you find something that you like and you don’t get exposed to anything else but what’s in a record store. It’s different now because of the Internet. But this is why I have a record store: Your knowledge, influence, and how you digest music. Say you walk into the shop and someone like Louis is behind the counter. You’re going to hear a reggae beat. Then you’re going to hear hardcore. Then you’re going to learn, and it’s not just kids. I get people in their 60s looking for jazz records and they hear Donald Byrd or an Eric Dolphy record they need to own — maybe all they know is Miles Davis and John Coltrane. But you can be a teacher, and it can be the hub. Record stores aren’t just buy and sell. You’re in a position where you can shape someone’s mind or ears. That’s what record stores did for me.

??
People are buying records again.

??
It’s not again. It’s young people who are just getting into music. My son says, “Dad, I want a record. I don’t want a little thing on my phone.” That’s the mentality. Remember the iPod? It was exciting to have your record collection go from a whole room down to this tiny little thing. That was cool for a second. Then it was like shit, man. I want to fold out Led Zeppelin III and spin the wheel.

??
I love the ritual of the needle hitting the vinyl and the sound sucking into the needle through the stereo system. But we’re not there yet with the new people. We sell so many lame record players at our San Diego store. We have these really nice Technics 1200 Turntables, and Revox. But people want a tiny piece of furniture. The big ’70s-style systems aren’t back. We have vintage equipment, but we sell more of the crap. But there’s nothing like a big, fat-ass speaker in the corner blasting music. People don’t realize that.?
?
?This interview has been edited for clarity.??