by Hannah Levin

Many people think of the Seattle music scene as something that spontaneously exploded in the late '80s and early '90s, when in fact the groundwork began more than a decade earlier, with a handful of clubs and house parties. Nearly every '70s punk band of note made a stop in Seattle at some point, and although the crowds that awaited them weren't large, they were loyal. At the root of that crowd was James "Babyteeth" Carbo, a smart, funny, queer kid and self-described groupie who played host to many of those bands and contributed significantly to the local punk scene as a DJ and promoter. We recently chatted at his infamous party house on Eastlake, a virtual time capsule of that era that has been wallpapered with carefully laminated show fliers and filled with a collection of music memorabilia that EMP would pay a small fortune for. He continues to bartend at the Vogue one night a week, and is considering putting together a gallery showing of his silkscreen art, a vivid, Warhol-inspired collection based primarily on his pathological obsession with go-go boots. He was a pure delight to talk with; I only wish I had more space to share our entire conversation.

-- H.L.

What was it like when you moved here in 1974? Nobody was into punk rock. I hated Seattle because there was no rock scene at the time. I'd go see Sweet at the Paramount Theatre and nobody was there. When the New York Dolls played here there was maybe 50 people there. I had a fake ID from New Orleans, so I'd go to the 101 Club, Shelley's Leg, and the Association Club--a bisexual club that is now Benaroya Hall--because those were the only places that would play glitter rock.

So you actually saw a punk scene develop--what were some of the landmark moments for you? Were there points when you felt things were clearly evolving? The big one for me was the Ramones' show at the Four Seasons Hotel in early 1976. I had already read about them in Rock Scene magazine, so I went to KISW and played the Ramones and Patti Smith for this show called Your Mother Won't Like It....

Wait, you were a DJ at KISW at that time? No, it was a show that was already established, but they would let fans come in and play stuff. So I played the Ramones and Patti Smith and started getting reactions from people. We all started going to places like the Bird [another downtown club] and the Funhole. I liked the Funhole better because it was more of a rock place, but the Bird on Second and Wall was really what got things going. It was booked by Gregor Gayden and Jim Lightfoot, one of the guys who eventually started the Showbox. I used to work at a gay porno house in what is now the Lusty Lady--gay clubs and porno places were the only places that would hire my freaky self. I'd put on a film reel and then run across the street to see shows at the Showbox.

So when did you move into this house? In 1978, I was homeless and my friend Mary Ann found the house, so I moved in with her. And it ended up becoming one of the first punk rock houses. This was way before Broadway was trendy--Broadway was all yuppies and fags and boring--it was all about the U-District and the Ave, which was way cooler....

I still think the U-District is cooler than Capitol Hill.... Good for you! It definitely was at the time--that's where all the record stores were and all the punk rock kids hung out. So we started having a lot of parties here, just typical, wild parties. People were starting to get into MDA....

Ah, yes--before it became MDMA. Was that the main drug at the time? Yeah, that and pot and acid. This was a really good atmosphere for that.

So tell me about Wayne County staying here. I was a big fan of her and the whole New York scene at the time. A friend of mine was in L.A. and ran into Wayne County--she hadn't had a band since the Electric Chairs in 1981. She had been living in Berlin, working as a prostitute, and had just decided to come back to L.A. and live with Angie Bowie. This was 1987. So Chris called me up as soon as he saw her and gave me Angie Bowie's phone number--Wayne had given [my friend] her number because he was cute, of course. So I called up Angie Bowie and asked for Wayne County. And I talked her into doing a show at the Vogue. I got the money together and flew her up here. So she played with Kim Warnick....

You put the band together for her to play with too? Yep. I did the show and tried to promote it as best I could--not that many people knew who she was. I always thought she was so underrated; she was on par with the New York Dolls and better than the Sex Pistols, but she never got the attention because she was a drag queen and a freak.

So what made you stop having parties here? Oh, it just started getting out of hand. People were respectful for the most part, but eventually people started breaking stuff and stealing stuff. I had other things I was involved with too; I used to do theme nights at the Vogue. I had a glitter night and a punk rock night and used to help with putting on shows and making posters for bands. So what do you think about the modern local incarnations that were obviously influenced by you--like the Pho Bang kids? I think it's great. The Pho Bang DJ [called] Baby J took his name from me as Baby J because he used to go to my punk nights at the Vogue. So that was a nice little compliment--he was always very sweet to me. Whenever I'd bring records to Pho Bang he'd play them for me--he did a great job. I love it; I'm so glad they're doing that. I loooove Jackie Hell and the Android... what's his name... Marcus! He used to come to the punk nights that I'd put on with Roxy at the Vogue.... Oh yeah, that's the story I forgot to tell you! I went to the Iggy Pop after-party with Deborah Harry.

What?! You're going to have to elaborate on that. That was in 1977 when they played the Paramount. Bowie was on keyboards and Blondie opened. Debbie Harry was wearing go-go boots, which, incidentally, jump-started my go-go boots obsession. So anyway, I was definitely a big groupie type at that point; I really tried to meet any band that I could, but it was really hard with me being such a gay freak back then in Seattle. Most of the roadies wouldn't like you because you were gay. So I went up to Deborah Harry after the show and started babbling to her about loving her go-go boots and she asked me if I knew how to get to this party where Iggy was going to be at. So Iggy Pop told us he was staying at the Hilton, so we went there and were looking for his room when I heard him and David Bowie arguing about going to the party.

Oh my God. So I was there with [fellow punk aficionado] Mary Ann Brown, who was drop-dead gorgeous, so we had her knock on the door and get Iggy Pop. He went with her and Deborah Harry, and Chris Stein went with us. So we're all getting ready to leave for the party and Bowie comes around the corner going, "You never take me anywhere!" to Iggy. So I of course was saying, "Here, please, give him the address!!" I missed most of the party because I was standing by the door waiting for Bowie to show up.

And did you ever get to meet David Bowie? Yes, I met him on the Thin White Duke tour out in front of the Edgewater. We were waiting outside forever and the limo finally came up. He came out of the limo with [daughter] Zoe sleeping in his arms. It was a gray, very cloudy day, but when he stepped out of the limo, the clouds parted. I couldn't believe it--the clouds parted for Bowie! It was perfect--I'll never forget that day.