By Don Stefanovich
Daily Titan News Editor
Published: February 24, 2010

Searing. Stabbing. The white-hot center of pain becomes a focal point as your brain struggles for distraction. After a while, you’re no longer sure if the incessant droning in your head is the hum of the tattoo machine puncturing your skin some 30,000 times per minute, injecting its indelible ink deep in your dermis or the swan song of the sonically-receptive hair-cells of your inner-ear after the last punk band to take the stage.

Welcome to Musink.

“The great thing is once somebody gets a tattoo, typically, they become one of us,” Johnny 2/3 said, shortly after spending several hours ensuring I was “one of them.”

While not the first, the damage Johnny did inside the hangar-turned-convention-hall would certainly be the most meaningful so far. The initials of loved ones lost were inscribed as part of a traditional piece – the kind Johnny is famous for. The sign outside the hangar summed it up. “Ink.”

Johnny, renowned for his traditional and realistic work in the South Bay and beyond, was one of over 300 artists from as far away as Switzerland and Japan.

Only half of the attraction, the ink-slingers worked to a soundtrack provided by the likes of punk bands spanning three decades.

Friday night saw a slow start as crowds trickled in and ’80s post-punk legends The Cult took the stage. Before they had their chance, however, a man whose name transcends all boundaries of action sports, music and art represented over the three-day convergence of counterculture took the stage.

Mike Vallely, better known as Mike V., first made a name for himself as a professional skateboarder and has fronted the hardcore outfits, Mike V. and the Rats and Revolution Mother. After hosting an all-star skate-jam on the mini-ramp, he lead his latest, By the Sword, in assaulting audiences with an array of Black Flag and Minor Threat covers, a concept he said was originally for Rev Mom and only temporary until By the Sword had more material.

“When punk rock came along, hardcore came along, it became very accessible,” Vallely said backstage after his set. Covered in ink, mostly from the notorious Kat Von D., Vallely somehow seemed to be a walking summation of the spirit of Musink.

“When I started getting tattooed, it was for outlaws,” Vallely said. “I’d like to think it’s still for outlaws, there’s just more outlaws, but I’m afraid it’s for pretty generic people now too. It’s a good thing for the people that make a living doing this kind of stuff, but maybe a bad thing for the spirit of it. But I think the real motherfuckers are still the real motherfuckers.”

Feb. 20 shot back to the ’70s and across the pond with English punks, Buzzcocks and The Damned.

Sunday, Musink reached its boiling point. Skate punk, which surfaced in the ’90s and ironically now seems old-school, ruled the day as anticipation for NOFX and Face to Face began to build. However, hometown heroes Longway stole the show with their brand of rockabilly punk.

“For us, we play these things because every time you go out and play it’s an opportunity to pull new fans,” said guitarist Trevor Jackson in their mislabeled trailer. “The Longways,” read the paper taped to the door.

There’s something to be said for a band when a guy with an eye-patch reading “Out of Order” scales the speaker stacks bookending the stage mid-song before descending into the maelstrom of the circle-pit whilst playing.

“There’s a bunch of people there that never would’ve saw us before, and they may never see us again, but at least we had a shot to go out there and play,” Jackson said. “And we’re lucky to be here,” sarcastic frontman Brian Longway added in a rare, humble moment amidst a steady stream of wisecracks, including that anyone who doesn’t like their music can, “take off their tattoos.”

Face to Face frontman Trever Keith had his share of quips.

“Hey, did you see that ONE GUY, with the black shirt and tattoos?” Keith questioned from onstage.

“This is rad and I was blown away when I walked in that room and saw a million tattoo artists,” bassist Scott Shiflett later admitted aboard their trailer. “But as far as bringing counterculture to the mainstream, it’s just been going on as long as there’s been admin mining the cool.”

Keith countered.

“I think it’s still counterculture. I mean, it’s bigger than it once was, but you couldn’t probably have Musink in many other places besides a place like Orange County and have this kind of a turnout. California’s the kind of place that you can go get a job … if you are sleeved. There’s a much more open-minded culture at large in California. It allows something like tattooing to be more accepted in popular culture.”

“There’s a guy that works at my bank that’s covered in tattoos, so all that stuff my mom was saying about, ‘You’ll never get a job at the bank,’ is just not true!” Shiflett added.

After being back on stage together only a short while since their five-year hiatus, and taunting the crowd in jest with new material (to surprising boos), Keith confirmed the rumors.

“We have about 14 or 15 songs kind of trumped up right now that are in various stages of completion,” Keith said. “We’re hoping to get into the studio in May and make an album out of it, see if we can make some chicken salad out of some chicken shit.”

After NOFX’s set added an amplified exclamation point to the evening – a sea of bodies bandaged in plastic and masking tape, dripping blood and ink, slamming in the circle pit – it was clear that while this may still be a counterculture of sorts, Shiflett’s mom seems more wrong now than ever.

“Tattoos:” Johnny 2/3 explained, “not just for sailors and fallen women anymore.”