Sounds of the Skatepark Vol. 9: Skate, spray, resist

“To the brave state and local law enforcement officers, CBP and ICE agents who are helping the facilitation of this deportation operation, President Trump has your back, and he is grateful for your hard work.”  —Karoline Leavitt, U.S. Press Secretary

“To enlist the poor and kill them / it’s the American way / And you’re a f***ing slave / And the simple fact is this / YOU’RE THE F***ING TERRORIST” —Dino Sommese, Dystopia

Surfing the concrete waves of Washington Street Skatepark, graffiti artist Andres Plaza tries to squeeze in skate sessions between work and school. Hiding his eyes under a mop of curly hair, he currently works part-time at a local burger shop while attending San Diego City College, majoring in Chicano studies. When the sun goes down he paints across the city, all while evading his most fervent fans: the San Diego Police Department. 

A San Diego native, Plaza spent his childhood bouncing between Santa Ana and National City. 

“Skating, punk rock and graffiti, the combination of the lifestyle that’s special here in SoCal. The chollo punk guy? That’s me,” he said. “Growing up I lived with my grandma a lot. She’s owned a house in Lemon Grove for, like, 60 years.”

To Plaza, graffiti is an art form that allows him to reclaim public space. Inspired by traditional graffiti practices, he views the art form as a weapon to challenge what is considered “acceptable art.” 

“Graffiti is decolonization,” he explained. “Displaced people were moved into these barrios and started gangs. Graffiti is a way of marking territory, and gangsters with artistic talent turned conquering territory into an art form.”

Plaza credits music as vital to a cultural community, praising the live jazz and DJs of Tijuana. Whenever he skates at the park, he brings along a speaker the size of a three-gallon water jug. As we got to talking about music, Plaza recommended the sludge rock band Dystopia. “It didn’t resonate when I was 18, but around 22-23, I listened to it heavy.” He drew my attention to the frontman, Dino Sommese. “The singer is Native American, but he also plays the drums. It’s really unique, but figuring the culture, that makes sense.”

Another California native, Sommese grew up around Irvine during the Reagan years, skating bowls, bombing hills and playing drums in local bands. He joined what eventually became Dystopia in 1991, writing and performing music that was misanthropic in nature, and heavily critical of institutional religion, corporate America and neo-liberal capitalism. Plaza recommended “Dystopia,” the band’s self-titled final album. 

“Dystopia” was recorded across 2004 and 2005, but not released until 2008 when the band broke up to pursue different projects. A modern classic of the ‘sludge rock’ genre, the album feels as if it was recorded in an abandoned quonset hut somewhere in the Mojave Desert. The drums sound like they’re wrapped in rusty sheet metal; the vocals have been filtered through a food processor and the bass and guitar are low-passed to hell; it’s so deep even Virgil can’t get through it. 

Every song is performed with unmitigated rage, propelled by anti-establishment, anti-human lyricism. From the song “Number One Hypocrite:” “If you want an SUV, we’ll have to kill some children / And you don’t f***ing care / As long as you are not impaired / Giving money to the system.” Blowing his voice out from behind his drum set, Sommese’s lyrics criticize the hypocrisy of nonplussed individuals who willingly subject themselves to shallow, materialistic gluttony provided by commercial goods produced at the expense of the faceless oppressed.   

On the song “Control all Delete,” Sommese criticizes the harmful influence of technology on interpersonal relationships: “Click here for the enslavement and death of us all / Delete environment / Delete the mind / Humans will kill themselves given the time / Cries of ‘what happened?’ / Or did you forget? / Your fingerprints are human / And you are a piece of s**t.”

The overall sound of the record has a DIY-aesthetic that’s elevated by eclectic audio samples that seem cut right out of T.S. Eliot’s “The Wasteland.” The composition and arrangement of the tracks is reminiscent of the modern hardcore band NAILS or the classic thrash band Suicidal Tendencies. 

A part of why Dystopia broke up was Sommese’s frustration with how much the lyrical content of their music was resonating with fans. While he and the band originally took pride in their counter-culture lyrics, that perception began to change as they got older. Sommese summarized in a Reddit post: “The reason we were a band in the first place was that we bonded on things that people don’t discuss … in fact, for a while … people didn’t like us … I think it was better back then … an uphill battle … it’s unfortunate that too many people relate to us now.”

Dystopia’s lyrics about American hypocrisy and systemic oppression have only felt more and more relatable over the course of the last decade, for all the wrong reasons. The faults in the system have become aggrandized by the perpetuation of fear from the Trump administration, particularly with the escalation of aggression toward immigrants. The support and backing of ICE by Donald Trump has only emboldened the organization and its members, as well as randos online, to harass people trying to get by and improve their lives.

This harassment is felt at home, where Mexican-American communities in Oceanside and San Diego have gathered to organize protests and marches in opposition to the harassment, but it has also caused unexpected alarm in the Native American community. On Jan. 24, Navajo Nation President Buu Nygren made a public address, reporting that his office had been inundated with calls from Navajo Nation members being harassed by federal agents, accusing and sometimes even detaining individuals under suspicion of being undocumented immigrants. 

He urged nation members to be vigilant and proactive for the foreseeable future. “We are advising Navajo citizens to carry state-issued identification, such as a driver’s license or other picture identification if available. Having your state ID is crucial, and if you possess a CIB (Certificate of Indian Blood), it can provide an additional layer of reassurance,” President Nygren said.

For the past 500 years, the territory of Southern California has been claimed, colonized and taken by imperialist forces. Those of us born here inherit that baggage. To claim exclusive ownership of the land, especially as descendants of immigrants (as most of us are), ignores how quickly this land has changed hands under oppressive powers. Our culture transcends national borders, and it is that culture – shaped by our community and our neighbors – that gives our identity substance. 

Artists like Plaza, Sommese and Dystopia are propellers of change within our community; they’re at the forefront of challenging the paradigm of intolerance and displacement enforced by those in power, while contributing to the cultural wealth that defines us. And if any skinheads, neo-nazis, white nationalists, MAGA heads disagree, remember, there’s a bunch of hooligan skaters just waiting to prove you wrong. “Love for country, love for system / So called ‘love’ is so confused / So called love murdered millions.” —Dino Sommese