Inside Big Daddy's on Roanoke's Williamson Road, there's a sign that hangs between the pool table and the juke box packed with Hank Williams Jr. songs. The sign says: "Neat dress required."

So what's this guy with the mohawk haircut and the skull-and-crossbones jacket doing here?

He's part of the Sunday entertainment.

Punk music, born In the mid-1970s in CBGB a long, dark, narrow bar in New York's Lower East Side has reached Roanoke. Blemish on Society has trouble finding places to play - hence its appearance at a country music stronghold - but a handful of loyal teenage fans will follow the music anywhere.

They say they're more than music fans; they're put of a movement.

"To me it's a message to people to think for themselves and run their own lives instead of being run by somebody else or by the system." Said Doug Caldwell,23, the guy with the mohawk and the leader of the band.

The band preaches it's message with original songs like "Government Interference," "Feeding off the Dead," "Reagan's Fantasy," "No Dope," "Who is God?" and "Roanoke," the last of which should not be confused with the song heard on the television commercials. Tommy Housman, 20, screams all lyrics with a two-fisted intensity that is indecipherable to outsiders.

Insiders, however, find it perfect for slam dancing, an activity that is sort of like a demolition derby without cars. Guys can be seen dancing without girl partners.

The songs' lyrics aside, the teen-age boys who were slamming at Big Daddy's seemed to be having good, clean fun. They entered the dance floor with their heads down,swinging their arms below their knees, and crashed into friends and strangers as the music blared. Nobody was trying to hurt anyone. It wasn't anything like the sinister behavior that the television show Quincy portrayed this season.

"It's our athletic ritual because we hate sports" said Matt Chittum, 17, a Patrick Henry High School student.

It's "direct innovative energy," Chittum said DIE for short.

Fans of southerncore music, which is what this brand of punk or hardcore music is called, say they are outsiders in their high schools. They cultivate the image by cutting their hair short. They don't look like previous decades' outsiders, the hippies and beatniks, but have the same pride in being different.

"If you're a punk you're always an individual," said Morris Jennings.

Caldwell a Northside High School dropout, has played with several Roanoke bands since 1979, and started out doing conventional rock 'n' roll. But, he said, "I've always thought like this even when I had long hair and played rock 'n' roll."

He formed Blemish on Society in January.

"A lot of people think we're a bike gang because we wear leather jackets. But the kids who get into it are average American kids."

Those who came to see the afternoon show by Blemish and Mod Dirge from Blacksburg didn't drink much. The under-18 people who came got a special stamp on their hands, so they could have only soft drinks or water anyway.

About 35 people paid the $2 cover charge that afternoon, according to the band. They expected more.

"Evidently the kiddies' moms still ain't letting them come," Caldwell said.More people came to the evening show.

There is alot of misunderstanding about punks according to Caldwell.

For instance, he said, "I'm into the Bible…" and is against nuclear weapons and fascism. As evidence, he wears a swastika with a line crossed over it and an inscription telling "Nazi punks" what they can do with their philosophy. And although he knows his way around alcohol and drugs, Caldwell said, "I'm trying to keep all the young kids that I can away from drugs."

The fans who follow that message have "the straight edge," he said.

Jennings said, "When I was a hippie I had no (political) viewpoint." All he did was listen to music and get high, he said. Then he saw a punk band perform in Blacksburg. He cut his hair and became a punk.

"I found the energy I didn't even know I had."

Who doesn't like the punks and their music?

"Redneck-preppy-jocks," Jennings said.

"Stupid hippies…If they don't play It on K92 it ain't cool."

Jennings and Caldwell like the music by The Dead Kennedys and Black Flag, and that's about it. Even bands that most people would call punk, like The Clash, are too tame for these guys.

Not all band members are as committed to the music. Bass player Al Riach, 21, who has been with the band a little more than a month, and Mark Young, 16, with the band only a few weeks, say they enjoy playing all types of music.

Although they like to watch the slam dancers they said they don't want to try it.

"I have absolutely no desire to," Riach said. "It's too painful. You might get hurt."

Caldwell knows there are times when he should stick the punk philosophy in his back pocket, too. His mohawk was not teased up when he went to his preliminary healing for grand larceny last week in General District Court.

Caldwell is charged with the theft Of $1,500 from the downtown Heironimus Store, where he worked as a custodian. In court, Caldwell was dressed casually but not loudly. He kept the bleached streak in his hair, but it was discreetly combed back.

A Roanoke police detective testified that Caldwell confessed to the crime, returned all the money he said he had left and is, cooperating. The charges have been sent to the grand jury.

His future and the band's future are in doubt, so it may not be the time to be thinking of long-range goals. But if all goes well, Caldwell said, "I'd like to play until I can't play any more, and make enough money to survive and preach my message across the United States.

"I just like to show them that everybody can do their own thing and get along."