Rest in peace Jack Flanagan. We met 39 years ago, when we were kids, from a flier hung up in a head shop in Flushing. We were both Queens kids that loved punk rock and there was literally a few people in all of Queens that wanted to play that kind of music, or even listen to it. He came over to my mother's apartment and we hung out a bit. He proudly showed me that his red Converse sneaker was signed by Legs McNeil, who I didn't even know yet. He was 4 years older than me and turned me onto a lot of great new bands, the Heartbreakers, The Dickies, The Undertones, etc. when I only knew the four basic groups- Ramones, Pistols, Clash and Dead Boys. He joined Heart Attack and we co-wrote many songs together. We rehearsed in his basement, we played CB's, Max's, and a wacky club called The 80's on East 86th Street. We were underage and innocent as hell, but we super excited to take on the world.

    Then, one day, Jack saw a group called the Bad Brains open for Richard Lloyd and everything changed. It was all he talked about. He started listening to his Ramones and Sabbath records on 45 turntable speed. He left Heart Attack to form The Mob and play, as he called it, "pure speed" with his Jackson Heights buddies Ralph, José and Jamie from Douglaston. We became rivals and A7 enemies in a young, schoolyard kind of way, and gave each other jabs and crazy pranks. The Mob were faster and tighter than anyone around would watch from a distance, amazed at how militant they were. Once, they went on at A7 at 6 in the morning and destroyed the whole place. I didn't know how they brought it after sitting in Jack's mom's green Tornado car all night smoking weed out of a crazy Jamaican pipe. Jack loved the Bad Brains so much that he even had a Rasta accent for a while that we would laugh about years later. As he would say, "Yeah, I was in HR's army." A lot of people were back then - the Bad Brains were that good any many followed in their footsteps.

    A lot of people don't know this, but Jack and The Mob coined the term "mosh," which has been so commonly used for years now worldwide. HR would say "Mash down Babylon" over the microphone between songs and Jack misinterpreted it as "mosh." He and his band began to say, "Mosh it up!" and even put on their posters for their shows. Suddenly everybody in the NYHC scene was saying it. The band Anthrax took it to a whole other level commercially, but Jack and The Mob truly started it. He also created Mob Style Records and signed Urban Waste and others. Somehow, he also found time to go to NYU and graduate, which would help him years later. He once told me that his worst career move was not letting Rick Rubin borrow the bass amp at A7. He told me his second worst move, years later, was when Marilyn Manson, at the peak of his career, asked if he would manage him and Jack said, "let me think about it..."

    After The Mob he would go on to manage and road manage Murphy's Law on many tours, including the infamous Beastie Boys License to Ill Tour. He would also tour manage The Dickies, Ronnie Spector, Mikey Dread, Freddy McGregor, and manage the Mighty Mighty Bosstones, Clutch and GWAR. Eventually we connected again in a major way as friends and he began to road manage D Generation after we got signed. He taught us a lot about the road. He kept us laughing when it got hard and we were imploding, got us healthy with his "crucial mixture," an elixir that cured us when we were drunk sick. He was there on the first US tour waiting for us in the El Paso airport with popcorn for everybody. He saved me from the San Antonio police as they stood stage-side and Jack whispered in my ear, "Cut the naked shit, Jesse, or you're going to jai." He drove the van, settled the shows, did the lights (like Arturo Vega- red, white and blue), and even physically fought off assholes that would fuck with us. D Generation was not an easy fit in early 90's America, but Jack protected us. I had never been to Europe when we were invited by Green Day to open up for them on the Nimrod Tour. To be quite honest, I was a bit nervous to go, and Jack made me feel safe and at ease. It meant so much to me that I put it in the first verse of our song, "Every Mother's Son," on the next album. "Jackie went to Belfast, got us in the plane, somethings kinda fruity in leather jacket fame."

    He was always laughing and always had a big smile on his face, but yet he could be really tough and do business when he had to. He took some of that NYU knowledge, his street smarts, tour experiences and opened his own management company, Issachar Entertainment, taking Clutch and GWAR with him. He even managed my solo bit for a quick moment. He still kept to his Hardcore roots and overwhelming generosity, having Murphy's Law rehearse in his basement, throwing killer punk rock bar-b-q's with Jimmy G., and he always there if any of us needed advice on our music careers, or really anything in our lives. Jack was always there and could solve any problem. He was our big brother and, for many years, the only adult in the room.

    We would laugh about our early days when our Hardcore bands couldn't get a booking in proper music venues so we had to put on our own gigs in restaurants, lofts, apartments and little Irish bars. He loved teasing me about a Polynesian restaurant in Whitestone we played as kids called Moana Kai, and Shamus' Pub on Northern Blvd. We both loved the John Candy film Planes, Trains and Automobiles, and every Thanksgiving eve, like clockwork, he would leave me a message with a scene from the movie. He never missed a year and it would always make me smile.

    As much as there was this big, strong, smart, funny person, there was also a sad and lonely part of Jack that I could feel, but he never let on to it. He kept a strong face and always kept moving forward. He had been battling cancer this past year or so and never told anyone - he just kept on living and never complained. He never even told me, but I get it. He is my oldest friend and will be greatly missed. He is one of the main architects of hardcore - not just NYHC. A great friend and brother. I have lost a lot of great people in these last couple of years but losing Jack has really gutted me. I can't stop crying. As I write this I am riding through Idaho looking out the van window and thinking of Jack who taught me to love the road, playing Jerky Boys tapes, Bad Brains demos, cracking jokes to cops, and watching out for all of us.

- JM