For Prostates, punk rock is their creative outlet

Mike Cicchetti, 17, Connor Gilchrist, 15, Matthew Chavez, 15, and Jake Eastman, 15, are all Central Valley High students. Cody Sherrodd, 18, graduated in June. All five are like-minded individuals who mesh well together in a musical way. They are the Prostates, a punk rock band.

To set the record straight, they are far from the punk rock stereotype of past decades.

Although they sport mohawks, dyed hair and combat boots, their dispositions are down to earth. “To be ‘bad’ was more of an ‘80s punk rock thing,” says Sherrodd, “but this isn’t 1980s England or New York. We just are. We like the music.”

The music he is speaking of is fast, loud and aggressive. Stage diving and mosh pits are the norm but it is all in fun.

The message that the band wants to relay is to be open-minded. As the band evolves, the message might change, but for now, the songs convey a dislike toward close-minded individuals.

One song titled “Exterminate Racism” has lyrics that include: “…bigotry was back in the day, no one cares what you have to say.” Another song, “Same Ol’ People,” says: “All my life for as long as I remember, there have been people who I don’t like; people who hate based on religion, People who hate based on skin color…”

Perhaps their songs reflect the response to their appearances. “Some people compliment us,” says Eastman, “and others assume that we are bad or looking for trouble.” They have been called a “disrespect to society.”

A recent incident gave an elderly gentleman a whole new respect for people with mohawks. Eastman and Sherrodd found a driver’s license in a parking lot. They went on a mission to find the man in the photograph. As they traveled through the aisles of Rosauers, they received many looks of distaste, and when they approached the man they were looking for, he was at first skeptical and accusatory. When they said they found it in the parking lot, he understood and was grateful.

Though their looks and musical tastes might seem intimidating, it comes down to just another case of fearing what is unfamiliar.

Even their parents have a difficult time swallowing their choices. The band agrees that all of their parents accept it but don’t necessarily support it. Chavez’s father is an exception. They practice in his basement; smack dab in the middle of the finely trimmed lawns in the Turtle Creek subdivision.

“They’re good kids,” said Tom Chavez. “This is their creative outlet. School doesn’t pay much attention to music or creativity. There, they walk the line. Here, they can explore beyond the line.”

The teenagers have been together since only March but they are highly motivated. Gilchrist plays the base, Chavez plays the drums, and Sherrodd plays guitar, while Eastman and Cicchetti belt out the tunes. They are self-taught and intent on learning more.

All members write lyrics, and they already have quite a few songs.

They have a demo tape and hope eventually to produce a better one. They aspire to win a battle of the bands contest in the near future.

If you see them somewhere (they are hard to miss), keep in mind that mohawks and combat boots have graced the covers of magazines and tripped across the runways of Paris. They are not so different. “We’re us,” says Cicchetti. And their futures are wide open.