Been away on vacation (imagine that! In the year of the plague/quarantine, my wife found the one place with a lower infection rate than NYC that was both a bona fide vacation town and accessible without having to fly or take public transportation!) so I'm just catching up on this thread. Apologies if these topics are already antiquated...but fwiw:
I too was a prog nerd in my early teens, who then transformed into fusion nerd by the end of high school...but in my freshman year at the Berklee College of Music I became so disgusted with the judgmental "Chops Are Good...But Only Certain Chops" attitude that seemed to prevail that out of mostly defiance I embraced the punk rock stuff that was starting to get some traction. (I think the straw that broke the camel's back for me was when my Harmony 102 professor took an impromptu poll to find out what everyone listened to, and the most popular acts by a long shot were Steely Dan and The Doobie Brothers.) The thing is, yeah, some of that late 70s punk rock was primitive musically...and some of it was brilliantly sophisticated in spite of itself. The saying "You Need To Know The Rules Before You Can Break The Rules" was laughed at by the best of the punk and post-punk artists, and so while my initial embrace of the genre was mostly to thumb my nose at academic authority, I became quite enamored of some of the acts because their music held its own on multiple levels with the academically sanctioned acts [sic] that I'd thought punk was supposed to be rebelling against.
Oh, and here's my favorite Bad Brains story: Sometime in the late 1970s -- I'm pretty sure it was '77, but it might have been '78 -- my buddy Geoff, who was the oldest one of my stoner friends and so the only one who had his own car and unlimited access to it, said "Hey, we should drive into Manhattan and check out one of these punk-rock bands!" (We'd grown up in suburbia 20 miles north of Manhattan; a trip to NYC was always an event. A trip to NYC without parental accompaniment, at night, to see a band, was like the Holy Grail.)
I immediately say "Sure. What band?"
Geoff had somehow found a copy of The Village Voice, and purely based on the name, we decided to go see a band called Noise R Us.
We'd never heard anything by them, just figured with a name like Noise R Us it should be epic. They were scheduled to play a club (bar?) called The Botony Talkhouse. (If you Google that now every hit is an excerpt from some book about Sonic Youth.)
So we drive down to Manhattan in Geoff's turd-brown land yacht and go to the Botony Talkhouse and saddle up to the bar -- btw, regardless of whether this was ''77 or '78 I was still under the legal drinking age in New York at the time -- we order up some adult beverages, and sit back to see what Noise R Us is all about.
We never found out. Because apparently the Voice ad was wrong, or the booking folks screwed up, something, Noise R Us were not going to play that night.
Instead it was some act we'd (also) never heard of, a quartet from Washington DC called Bad Brains.
Ho.
Lee.
Crap.
The Botony Talkhouse was maybe 15 feet wide and 35 feet long. Stage is on the narrow wall. There couldn't have been more than 20 people in the entire audience...because they couldn't have fit more than 30 total. And Bad Brains just blew that little room apart ...as well as blowing the top of everyone's head clean off. I have extremely vivid recollections of Dr. Know and HR literally scaling the walls of the Botony, like they had found a way to defy gravity and were doing so as a way to escape the confines of that tiny space. My wee teenage brain had never experienced an energy like that. Driving home from Manhattan the only words Geoff could say were "Damn... damn..." Over and over and over.