The 1970s in Boston wasn’t just about bell bottoms and disco balls. It was a time when the city’s walls started speaking, shouting with spray paint and bold statements. Graffiti, once seen as just vandalism, became a voice for the young and restless, a canvas for rebellion and self-expression.
Boston’s punk rock scene was exploding, and with it came a wave of graffiti celebrating the music and its heroes. Fans of bands like X-Ray Spex, Billy Idol, Sham 69, and the Buzzcocks plastered their names across the city, turning ordinary brick and concrete into declarations of musical loyalty. These weren’t just scribbles; they were badges of honor, marking territory and proclaiming allegiance to a specific sound and lifestyle.
But the stories behind the spray paint went beyond music. Cryptic messages and names popped up, leaving people wondering about their meaning. Who were the “Lesbian Turds”? Were they a band lost to history, a name that never made it to the stage? The New Dolls, the Ramones, the Dead Boys – these were all well-known names in the punk scene, but the Turds remained a mystery, a whisper on the wall.
And what about the “Jetts” and the “Real Kids”? Were they bands, gangs, or simply groups of friends who wanted to leave their mark? These names, sprayed in bold letters, became part of the city’s fabric, sparking curiosity and speculation.
The 70s graffiti scene wasn’t just about names and bands, though. It was also a way for people to express their frustrations, their hopes, and their humor. Political messages appeared, criticizing the government and the status quo. Jokes and witty remarks brought smiles to faces, turning the daily commute into a treasure hunt for hidden messages.
Boston’s neighborhoods, each with its own unique character, became galleries of street art. From the cobblestone streets of Beacon Hill to the vibrant squares of the North End, every corner held a story, a message waiting to be deciphered.
