Punk started out in 1974 as some dumb guys in leather jackets from Queens and then it moved to London where it became art students and assholes with a lot to say and wear. Then it moved back to the states where it got really fast and wore sneakers for a while which then became fat pants and ironic bowling shirts. Its last gasp was a cacophonous scream of filthy hair, homebrewed beer and barf. These are the crusties.

Though their roots are in UK anarcho punk they have decided to focus on the “homeless” part of squatter’s rights and spend their time doing heroin and getting in the way of everyone else. They’d like to pretend it’s political but the real impetus behind the movement is the part where most of them got fucked by their dads (hence the facial tattoos and other “Don’t touch me” characteristics including a stomach-turning stench).
In the East Village, the crusties are run by a total fucking shitstain who calls himself Jewels. Like most people doing nothing, he has decided the world owes him something and is no longer satisfied with simply asking for it. He’s been spotted stopping cars on the street and demanding they fork over cash (usually 80 cents) and even strangling people until they pay up. Unfortunately for Jewels, he recently attacked Joey Stilocci and is now looking at 4 years in prison. You see, though Joey looks like a wimpy, rich geek with funny teeth and a three-piece suit, he’s also an ex-skinhead that grew up in the East Village and has beaten up so many “Jewels” it fucked up his teeth for life.
We caught up with Joey on Wall Street shortly after he spoke to the DA about his run in with Jewels.
SBTVC: So, how’d it go?
Joey: Grand jury testimony is secret, so I’m not really allowed to say what went on there.
They say he’s looking at 4 years. Do you want him to go to jail for 4 years?
Yes. The guy is a genuine menace who decided to rob, choke and fight the wrong people at the wrong time. He deserves whatever he gets, really. The East Village is a better place without him. I heard he’s pleading innocence, which is insane. He’ll definitely get all 4 if he does that. His only hope it to plead guilty and take a plea. He’d get away with 1 or 2 if he did that.
Let’s go back a bit here. What happened the night he attacked you and Lizzie and everyone?
We were walking down Avenue A sometime past midnight. We were on our way from one bar to another. I think we were headed for Niagara. The street was crawling with the usual drunks and crusties who flood the street right after the cops chase them out of the park when if officially closes. They usually hang around for a while before climbing the fences and sneaking back in for the night.
We were about two thirds of the way down the block from St. Marks when one of the crusties jumps out in front of us and starts yelling. He had the typical look with the facial tattoos and shit-stained clothes. He was carrying a cane that appeared to be superfluous and was waving it above his head demanding eighty cents. We ignored him and tried to walk past and he goes, “I’m not fucking around” while wrapping his hands around my buddy’s throat.
So you kicked his ass?
I totally lost it and nailed him in the face. I honestly think the facial tattoo above his eye helped my aim. After he got up off the ground he came at me swinging his cane and screaming “Get out of my neighborhood” which is funny because I’ve been beating up versions of him for 20 years.
What do you mean?
I grew up in Manhattan and the punk scene was really violent back then. I think it was everywhere in the 80s. We were skinheads but we weren’t neo-Nazis or anything like that. Nobody was really. A lot of us around CBGBs and Thompkins Square park back then wore boots and braces and Fred Perrys and flight jackets but it was an improbable mutli-ethnic gang of Puerto Rican kids, black kids and white kids who were into punk. There was none of that Geraldo Rivera shit.

(A picture Joey took of his pals in Washington Square Park back in 1989)
Okay so back to the fight, you’re lucky he didn’t have a knife or a friend with a knife.
It was pretty interesting that none of his fellow dirt-punks got in on the action. What’s that they say about honor among thieves? There’s no loyalty among those losers, I guess.

Did the cops arrest him right away?

The cops had no trouble figuring out who the bad guy was in this situation. That’s a good rule: When the cops show up calm down quickly. If you act crazy, you’ll likely end up in the back of a cop car. If you can calmly explain why you are fighting in the street, you might end up getting to wash down your fight with beers in the bar you were headed to anyway. Which we did.
The cops must have been happy.
You could tell they had dealt with him plenty of times before and were getting really fucking sick of it. He had been on a tear all night, terrorizing pedestrians and attacking cars. Someone else had called the police on him earlier, so it was just a coincidence that they showed up while we were doing battle. Jewels went kind of nuts for a few minutes when they got there but settled down once they cuffed him.

A lot of us here are becoming crusty punks. Do you think this is a good idea?
I can’t tell if you’re kidding or not but I’ll tell you what. This is their fucking golden age. They see themselves as rebels or the descendants of the older Lower East Side scene but they are really the clearest sign of its gentrification. We’ve come to the point where it’s perfectly acceptable to be a hippie on heroin pretending to be a punk and yelling at every person that walks by. Ten years ago and you’d be killed just for thinking that. It’s frustrating. I don’t miss old New York, that’s a cliché, but you gotta love it when old meets new and punches it in the face.

Related posts:

1. MY ROOMMATE GOT MUGGED LAST NIGHT
2. DEAR STREET CARNAGE: GORILLA FIGHT FACE
3. DEAR STREET CARNAGE: THE JUSTIFIED CRUSTY TASING
4. DASH SNOW 1981-2009
5. PUNK MONDAYS: THINGS THAT ARE PUNK