My pre-teen years were very influential for me, musically. They represented my break from the well-beaten path of Andrew Lloyd Weber musicals and the oldies station to pop music. It’s when I started listening to Ska and Punk Rock, and (more importantly), it’s when I first began to listen to Nirvana.
My good friend Zach, who I hung out with a lot as we started to learn the guitar together, first turned me on to Nevermind when I was about 11 or 12 years old. While this would not end up being my favorite Nirvana album, it was the one I first became obsessed with.
While there were some very unfortunate side-effects of my new fandom, it was also a very big stepping stone for turning me on to new music. This is where I actually get to the point of this post.
Nirvana’s album, Incesticide, was my favorite album of theirs. “Why?” You might ask–”it didn’t have any of their hit songs! It was just a collection of B-Sides!” It did, however, have a sound that was distinct from most of their music:
and
It had that persistent beat and high-energy 3-chord progression that I would later identify as “punk.” I remember when i first heard these songs, I thought to myself, “Damn. This is what electricity is supposed to sound like.” This, combined with my increasing interest in 3rd Wave Ska, drove me head first into the world of Punk Rock.
However, it wasn’t until years later that I realized I had also been exposed to an entirely different genre during this period: Indie Pop. No, no, not the twee indie pop that we’re familiar with today, but a more avant-garde version that remained fairly underground throughout its entire existence.
This was an important revelation to me, because I had known of their existence for years (seeing the parentheses after my much-beloved Nirvana songs denoting the fact that it was a cover song), but had never actually gone and sought out the original music. Just before my college years, when I was delving more and more into indie music, I came across the name again, and was forced to evaluate my current taste with that of my pre-teen self. This is what I was confronted with:
It was amazing for me, that so long after my Nirvana fanaticism wore off, I was brought back around to face it once again in a new form.
Anyways, I thought I’d share this with you as confronting old ghosts has been on my mind recently. Here’s a video of Eugene Kelly’s guest appearance during one of Nirvana’s sets in 1991:
If there are ever two things that should never mix, it’s rock & roll and seats. However, at the Esplanade in Singapore the two are inextricable.
I’ve complained for ages and ages (read: a year and a half) that Singapore never brings good pop musical acts to its concert halls. If you wanted to see live music, you had a few options:
See a “high art” show
Visit an expat populated bar where the band only plays U2 covers
See a local band (usually more “miss” than “hit”)
Wait for a huge band like Linkin Park to come through (and subsequently pour gasoline in your ears and light a match)
Pop music fans of Singapore rejoiced! Long sought-after indie/electronic/rock & roll bands were finally making their way to the Merlion-guarded island.
I rejoiced with these fans, and, althought I missed the 2008 festival since I was traveling in Thailand, I hit up Camera Obscura and Stars when they came through in late ‘08 and early ‘09 (despite the ridiculous price of at least S$50 for upper balcony seating). The key word in that parenthetical is “seating.” See, the Esplanade is an amazing venue, don’t get me wrong–the acoustics are incredible, the view of the stage is clear from all angles, and it fits something like 1500 people–but it is completely wrong as a venue for a rock & roll show. There is absolutely no room to dance.
Yeah, sure, to a certain extent you can dance in front of your seats, but the mere presence of those seats changes the experience from a participatory one to that of only a spectator.
My experience seeing Camera Obscura was good. They are great musicians, they played the songs I wanted to hear, and it sounded great. However, everybody in the crowd was sitting until the encore. I’m sure everyone enjoyed themselves, but at the moment it seemed completely absurd. I chalked it up to the fact that the band is largely a soft rock, ballad kind of act, and thought that if a really rowdy band made its way to the concert hall, things would be different.
Then came the Stars show.
Just in case you’re not familiar, this is the kind of sound Stars brings to the table:
If this song doesn’t make you want to get up and dance, you may very well be a lost cause and you should probably throw in the towel (as far as having fun is concerned).
Anyways, I went to this show with my girlfriend in very high hopes (as Stars has been a favorite band of mine for 6 or 7 years now). However, I was largely disappointed with how similar the crowd acted at the show to my experience with Camera Obscura. On the plus side, everybody on the ground floor got up and danced, which made me excited. However, the floor seats costed something like S$100, and I don’t make that kind of money. The balconies were a much different scene: bodies sitting rigidly in rows.
I assumed that there was some sort of a conformity effect going on here where everybody was so afraid to disrupt the people around them that they couldn’t find the courage to get up and dance. I figured that if a couple people got up, everybody would follow suit. Once I finally got up the courage to do so, I was (very politely, mind you) asked to sit down by the people behind me. I ignored them for a song (and actually asked them to stand up as well) but I had no luck in convincing anybody around me to join me. After that song, I sat down.
This is how I imagine it looked from the band’s perspective:
However, at this point I was forced to consider alternatives to my own selfish idea of what a concert should be. Was I wrong to want people to get up and dance? Obviously they wanted to sit, so what right do I have to apply my own concert-going tendencies to them? Even though I knew in my heart of hearts that they were having less fun as a result of their choice, shouldn’t I respect their decision to be boring?
More importantly, to what extent should I let this affect me? If I just decided to care less, wouldn’t I have had a better time? The music was amazing, and the band put on a spectacular show, but I couldn’t help but feel out of place sitting up in the balcony, trying to dance awkwardly in my seat. It begs one to consider whether this is a result of the much chagrined expat perspective of Singaporean passivity, or if this is an honest facet of the people at the show.
I’m really not sure how to resolve this issue. I can’t imagine seeing Of Montreal without dancing, but I’m probably still going to come this March. I imagine Brad Mehldau and Battles will be better experiences, as they’re both bands that are more passive-listening-predisposed.
I’ll keep you updated when this comes to pass, and perhaps I’ll try out the Singapore perspective and see if my enjoyment of the experience increases.
Well, I’m back in the States for Christmas. The last time I was on this side of the world was in January ‘08 when my brother got hitched. I was only back for 3 or 4 days that time, and I didn’t even make it to my home–only to DC, where the wedding was. This time I did it up proper: 2 weeks home and the hope of seeing a lot of old friends and family.
Anyways, being home after being away for almost 2 years is guaranteed to stir up some old memories. I was sifting through the old bootleg VHS tapes that my parents still keep (yes, they are the most frugal people in the world and would wait for a movie to come on TV and tape it instead of purchasing it) and noticed one of my all-time favorite movies: Stand By Me.
Not only does the movie have a pretty amazing cast (River Phoenix, Corey Feldman, Jerry O’Connell, Kiefer Sutherland, Richard Dreyfuss, John Cusack), a great coming-of-age story, a fantastic screenplay–it has one of the best soundtracks of last 30 years. Many of the songs are personal favorites because I grew up listening to oldies (until I discovered pop music and then punk rock around age 13 or so). Here’s the listing:
…and those are merely the songs on the OST. Their is so much more great music in the movie (Rockin’ Robin, for example). However, this has to be my favorite song in the movie as well as my favorite song of Buddy Holly’s:
Ok, I’ll add in links to all those artists and update this post when I have a little more time, but right now I have to head out to see some friends. If you’ve never seen them movie, give it a shot, it’s a must-see for some kick-in-the-pants nostalgia.
When I was in 2nd or 3rd grade, I always imagined that parties were all about making out, drinking, and listening to the Beastie Boys (and my parents wouldn’t let me listen to them). When I was in middle school, I thought the Beastie Boys were about as lame as you could get (and I wouldn’t be caught dead listening to them). In late highschool, the Beastie Boys were suddently hip again because of nostalgia (and I couldn’t stop listening to them).
Actually, it was right before the Beastie Boys became hip again that I was rummaging through my oldest brother’s cassette tape collection, and I found a bootleg copy of Paul’s Boutique. I put it on, mostly for humor’s sake, and found myself listening to it 24/7 soon after. I had only heard their big singles from Licensed to Ill before (you know… Fight for Your Right, Girls, Brass Monkey…) and the production & style of the magnitude that Paul’s Boutique churned out just blew me away.
Anyways, Paul’s Boutique eventually made its way to become (arguably) the Beastie Boys most critically acclaimed album. It was ground-breaking in several ways, but most notably because of the dense layering that their sampling portrayed.
What I want to do here, is show you just how much sampling would go into a single song on that album. For this to work, you’re going to have to become familiar with a number of songs, but most importantly, you have to know this funky jam called “Shake Your Rump”:
Ok, now that you’ve heard the Beastie Boys’ song, let’s find out what other songs went into the mix.
First off, we have the intro drum fill, which comes from the Alphonze Mouzon song “Funky Snakefoot.” It’s also the intro to the song, so you can’t miss it.
Now, at about 00:11, a real funky bass line comes in which was sampled from a Ronnie Laws song that most of us are familiar with… “Tell Me Something Good.” Again, this comes in at the very beginning of the song, so you can’t miss it.
Somewhere around 00:27, there’s a new drum fill. This is a nice mid-drum sound and it comes from a collaboration of Jazz drummers: Paul Humphrey, Willie Bobo, Shelly Manne, & Louis Bellson. The song is calledSuper Mellow. Said drum fill, again, is the intro to the song, so there should be no trouble finding it.
Just before we get to a super low bass part (at about 00:37), the next drum fill comes in. This is taken from a song by The Funky 4+1 aptly named “That’s the Joint.”
Immediately following that drum fill is the aforementioned bass swell (around 00:40). Although I can’t find a free streaming version of the whole song, you can listen to the appropriate sample here. It’s a song called 6 O’clock DJ (Let’s Rock) by Rose Royce. It’s pretty obvious from the sample.
That bass section goes for some time until the next section comes in at 00:56. This drum fill is sampled from none other than Led Zeppelin. The song is called, “Good Times Bad Times” and the sample I mentioned begins at 02:28.
Once again, at about the 01:02 mark, we have that funky bass line from “Tell Me Something Good.”
Now, here I’m not exactly sure if I’m 100% correct, but I believe the sharp scratches from the DJ that come in at 1:12 are from the Average White Band song “Cut the Cake“ I think the horn bellows at 03:47 are what’s being sampled.
The bass line that comes in at 01:18 is from the Rose Royce song “Born to Love You.” Sorry again for the short sample, but it fits nicely because it begins with the section I’m talking about.
At 01:26 we have the Funky Snakefoot drum fill again, followed by the latter part of the Super Mellow drum fill. Again, we have the 6 O’Clock DJ bass swell and the Led Zeppelin drum fill.
At about 02:10 there’s the Born to Love You bass line again, and you can begin to hear the Afrika Bambaataa sample with the woodblock percussion and the “woo-ooh-woo-ooh” noise (yeah, that’s what it is). This is from the song Jazzy Sensation and comes in right around the 5 minute mark.
If you were paying close attention, you’d notice that right around 2:24 there is a familiar section for just a second. Yes, it’s The Sugar Hill Gang with an extremely brief sample of their song, “8th Wonder.”
Then we repeat some bass swells and a small bassline, the basic drum beat and those Jazzy Sensation noises that we’ve heard before until…
THE END
Yes! I know it was a lot of effort to click all those links, but I bet you had some fun if you did. I really enjoyed putting together all those samples so that you can see where they come from. I know I missed out on a few, but when listening to the song, I couldn’t exactly figure out where they were located. If you want to check out the Wikipedia page for Paul’s Boutique, it tells you which songs were ostensibly used… maybe you can find the ones that I couldn’t.
Anyways, I gotta hit the sack, I have a lot of marking to do tomorrow. Take care!
I know that someone, somewhere is googling this for very different reasons than I’m writing this post about (and that both scares and intrigues me).
I wanted to impart upon you a video that I ran across months ago, but recently came to my attention again. It’s a version of Radiohead’s song, “Nude,” played completely on old computer parts (pictured above).
Here is a list of the different appliances used:
Sinclair ZX Spectrum – Guitars (rhythm & lead)
Epson LX-81 Dot Matrix Printer – Drums
HP Scanjet 3c – Bass Guitar
Hard Drive array – Act as a collection of bad speakers – Vocals & FX
Now, of course the song sounds very different (what would you expect from a dot matrix printer turned into a drum set?), but it has its own charming aesthetic as a result. Anybody born in the 80s will recognize a lot of the sounds being made by these machines with either grandiose hatred or twisted nostalgia. Generally speaking, they were always accompanied by malfunctions and frustration.
Anyways, here it is:
The song doesn’t actually come in until about 1:10, but I think the noise at the beginning adds to the effect.
In other news, a friend of mine asked me how I felt about Radiohead’s album “In Rainbows” when she heard their song, Reckoner, on a mix of mine. Even though it’s lost a lot of its hype at this point, I think it’s still a very solid album. At this point it’s hard for them to live up to said hype, but they always put out a product that delightfully surprises most people. The faster, more energetic songs are really catchy and I tend to lean towards those a bit more, but the slow songs definitely add a necessary break for contemplation with a more dreamlike quality about them.
My favorite song on the album (as made clear by its inclusion in the aforementioned mix) is Reckoner. It has a great build-up that doesn’t break into grandiosity as is generally expected. I always find a certain appeal from things that defy convention. Anyways, I’ll leave you with the video that was released a few months back:
If there were ever a completely objective measure of how hard a musician rocks, it would probably be the afro. Well, either that or how many live chickens they’ve bitten the heads off of. I want to take a second to commemorate some of the most awesome afros in rock music.
Let’s start with the most famous afro of the 20th century: Jimi Hendrix.
Taking it back to the mid-to-late 60s… this is the afro that started it all. Wielding left-handed guitars is almost as awesome as a kick-ass ‘fro. Burning said left-handed guitar after unleashing a wall of feedback, and simulating masturbation with the whammy board? Yeah, that might be on par. Whether or not you’ve seen it before, it’s always worth another look:
Making white-boy ‘fros awesome since the 60s, this band was all about harnessing hair power at its most radical. A seminal protopunk band, this group has had an incredible amount of influence on the music we hear today but is rarely given the props they deserve. Energy like this only comes from afro-laden attitude:
In the later 70s and 80s, afros became much less a part of the rock scene and really shone in the Funk, R&B and Soul departments. Nothing against those genres, but we’re looking at rockitude here–and therefore they don’t apply.
Reemerging in the 90s, we have a new wave of Afro-sporting badasses.
While Zach de la Rocha of the 90s band Rage Against the Machine is much more famous for his dreadlocks, I always knew he had it in him for a killer latino-fro. I was pleasantly surprised to see that when Rage reunited recently, he decided to ditch the ‘locks and rock the ‘fro. However, his antics are a little toned down for this reunion, so maybe there’s something to be said for dreadlocks after all… check it out here:
It could also be argued that boy-scout uniforms infuse you with guitar prowess. Perhaps we’ll investigate that at a later date…
Moving on…
The Roots are a hip-hop group, but their focus on using live instruments instead of sampling (or at least not as much sampling) during their live shows puts them on the list, in my opinion. Their drummer, ?uestlove, has one of the best afros I’ve seen in a while. He definitely lays it down, and you get some good clips amongst the talking in this interview:
I’m sure Neil Peart secretly has an afro.
This next band has so many afros in their midst that they almost collapse under the collective awesome. However, the frantic energy that is stored in their ‘fros is more than enough to keep them going.
I’m talking, of course, about The Mars Volta. Formed in 2001 out of the ashes of post-noise-rock-screamo-punk-etc. rock band, At the Drive-In, this band is chock-full of spastic craziness which takes its roots from prog rock, math rock, latin-beat, jazz, and punk rock. It’s not often that you see a band with this much energy any more. The two front men, Cedric Bixler-Zavala and Omar A. Rodriguez-Lopez, are the oft-focused upon members for their ‘fro frantic style. However, their ex-drummer, Jon Theodore, was known to sport a good set of hair in their later years. Anyways, here’s a video which exemplifies the power of this afro-powerhouse:
Now, we have come to the modern day. Carrying the torch for the latter 2000s, we have Brooklyn-based TV on the Radio.
Not many people can boast 2 ‘fros at once. Kyp Malone of TV on the Radio does exactly that by not only sporting your usual head afro, but he’s got one coming off his chin as well! His calm demeanor, however, betrays a secret build-up of energy–stored in his hair, of course. Take a look:
Well, that’s it for now. Trust me, I’m well-aware that there are many fantastic ‘fros that I’ve skipped over, but I wanted to give some examples how a specific hairstyle can be measured up against behavior (in this case, being awesome).
So, generally speaking, I’m not much of a hip-hop guy. I’m usually much more interested in lyric-based rap than dance music. Perhaps that’s the white-boy-with-no-rhythm in me speaking, but I can’t do much about that.
However, recently I haven’t been able to stop listening to Spank Rock. The lyrics are trashy (although sometimes quite good) and the songs are all about dancing and girls, but the production is really outstanding and refreshingly different from your clubbing mainstays.
The beats, of course, are pretty generic, but something different that you’ll hear in Spank Rock’s cuts are these really intense noise swells that seem to come out of nowhere. They serve as perfect transitions between sections of a song, they often lead into some pretty fast rapping (and sometimes mark the point where Amanda Blank often comes in with her verses):
Something tells me that having a white girl with attitude as your tag-team MC garners you tons of cred with the hipster crowd. It’s new and different and… well, she’s pretty cute. Not only that, but she spits like a beast.
I think my favorite thing about Spank Rock, however, is how sarcastic they are. They are well aware of how ridiculous the club scene is. They know that they’re putting out club music and they know that they’re doing it better than everybody else. Maybe they’re not as famous as other outfits, but the quality of their music, the fun and quirky style they evoke, and the trashy humor that they keep in their lyrics put them way ahead of the rest in my book. Not only that, but it seems like their shows are a riot:
Anyways, I’ll definitely be including some of their stuff in upcoming mixes for any parties that I’m DJ’ing. I’d suggest that you check out some of their stuff (their singles especially).
I’m not going to do a post on They Might Be Giants because it would be a ginormous undertaking. They are, after all, my all-time favorite band. However, I will do a post on my favorite song of theirs: Ana Ng.
I’ve read several renditions of the story behind the song, but the one that I believe the most was that the Johns were reading through the telephone directory in New York and happened to notice an abundance of listings for “Ana Ng.” After that, they followed through with a story about a soul mate on the opposite side of the world who the speaker may or may not ever meet.
The song is set at the 1964 World’s Fair which was held in New York City (which TMBG co-founder, John Linnell, attended as a child). You can see several references to this in the lyrics: “All alone at the ‘64 World’s Fair”, “Eighty dolls yelling ‘Small girl after all’”, and “Who was at the Dupont Pavilion?” However, the best lyrics are those that describe the distance between the two characters:
Make a hole with a gun perpendicular
To the name of this town in a desk-top globe
Exit wound in a foreign nation
Showing the home of the one this was written for
My apartment looks upside down from there
Water spirals the wrong way out the sink
And her voice is a backwards record
It’s like a whirlpool and it never ends
Really, the imagery is pretty incredible. It’s so easy to see the gun pointed at the globe shooting a bullet through NYC and coming out somewhere in Southeast Asia (relevance for me is completely obvious–although it’s most likely a reference to Vietnam and not Singapore…). The globe is the key prop in the story. Without it for reference, it would be hard to imagine somebody on one side of the world seeing an upside-down apartment on the other… or why the water would seem to spiral the wrong way out the sink.
The “relationship” between the speaker and their estranged soul-mate is pretty clear throughout the song in the chorus:
Ana Ng and I are getting old
And we still haven’t walked in the glow of each other’s majestic presence
Listen Ana hear my words
They’re the ones you would think I would say if there was a me for you
The part that’s always confused me, however, is the section just before the bridge where a voice on the telephone calls out:
“I don’t want the world, I just want your half”
Given the specifics of the story, what does that actually mean? I like to think that it’s the usual TMBG quirkiness where, given that there are only two people in the story, the only other half must belong to the speaker (and, therefore, they would be acquiring the missing half). I’m not exactly sure about this, however. Regardless, it still sends chills down my spine when I hear it.
Speaking of hearing… the music is pretty awesome as well. Sure, it’s nothing spectacular in its complexity–but what a great hook the main part is (you know, the part that goes “bum-ba-bum bum ba-bum-bum bum-bum). Yes, yes, it’s all done electronically in classic TMBG style, but it’s a great rigidity next to the human element in the lyrics. Furthermore, the swell up to the bridge always grabs me and prepares me for John’s emotive section that follows.
Finally, the song really is a fantastic opener. It’s full of great pop hooks and it contrasts perfectly with the next track, Cowtown, which is a silly song about manatees that takes much more from TMBG’s avant-garde side.
All-in-all, it’s an absurd little song that strays a bit from TMBG’s usual pattern of playful artsy-pop to become a bit more emotionally meaningful. The music is great and gets stuck in your head very easily, and the lyrics are fantastic in-and-of themselves.
I leave you with the most necessary video of all videos: Tiny Toons set to TMBG’s “Particle Man.”
This post draws its inspiration from a messageboard discussion on the same topic which I recently sifted through. Now, I’m not a violent guy, but this is an amusing debate.
The question seems simple at first: who would win in a fight? Henry Rollins of Black Flag and the Rollins Band or Glenn Danzig of The Misfits and, well, Danzig.
However, when you really start to think about it, there are some pretty important distinctions to be made. Are we talking about an early career fight? Black Flag Rollins versus Misfits Danzig? Let’s take a look at some early videos for comparison:
In interviews:
In concert:
(pardon the poor recording quality, but we’re looking for violent behavior here, not musical quality)
Obviously they both had a tendency towards violence while performing, but Rollins seems to be more on the aggressive side when it comes to interviews and personal interaction. This leads me to believe that Rollins would be more likely to instigate a fight. However, Rollins also seems to be a little more contemplative and less of a “loose cannon” than Danzig. My guess is that if Danzig had been getting smacked and hit by fans like Rollins was in that first video, he would’ve retaliated immediately. Rollins takes the hits for a while, seemingly letting the rage build up before he unleashes.
My guess is that early Rollins would thrash early Danzig as Danzig would just wear himself out before Rollins even began to fight back.
The next step, obviously, would be to ask “well, what about a fight in their later lives?” Let’s do a similar video comparison of the two:
…and “performing”:
Regardless of the change in musical styles; regardless of the change in fan-base; regardless of the fact that he got flat knocked out… Danzig still seems to have a certain aggression about him that would lend itself to instigating (obviously) and probably succeeding in a brawl. He’s also beefed up a bit since his Misfits days. While Rollins still has that contemplative, brooding attitude about him, he’s gone the way of the book much moreso than Danzig. I believe that elder Danzig would probably whipe the floor with elder Rollins.
Either way, younger Rollins would give both younger and elder Danzig a real beating.
But what if Danzig were to have become more bookish in his old age? Well, I’ll let this last video do the talking.
Punk Rock is one of the most mixed-up, splintered, intangible, idealistic, over-sold and over-argued genres to come out of Rock ‘N Roll since… well… Rock ‘N Roll. It’s also one of my favorites; I grew up on the post-Green Day revival of the 90s.
PUNK’S NOT DEAD! RIGHT?
“Punk’s Not Dead” is a maxim that kids have been using since the early 90s. Well, at least that’s first time I ever heard it (generally associated with Kurt Cobain’s usage of the term). I’m not going to get into the argument of where, when, why, or how Punk Rock was born… that could encompass numerous future blog posts. What I want to discuss here is its survivability.
Generally, while avoiding a specific date, we can agree that Punk Rock (as we commonly describe it) came about in the mid 70s. There are a few clear immediate influences in sound: MC5, The Stooges, and Television. The Velvet Underground is the most clear influence on the ideology, and The New York Dolls (while still showing a clear attachment to Glam Rock) helped to establish a reactionary precedent for the “appearance” of Punk Rock.
As I mentioned earlier, however, Punk Rock has splintered into more sub-genres and has had more incarnations than I care to recount. As a result we cannot say that the sound of classic Punk Rock has much survivability.
The style of Punk Rock changed along with the sub-genres as well as with mainstream fashion trends. Bondage was a mainstay in the 70s, then Oi! took over and skinhead stylings became more common. Post-Punk brought hair back into style, and Hardcore modified that to bring in the mohawk. 90s Punk Revival borrowed a lot from the surfer look as well as the body modification that was so popular with the classic bondage look. Style cannot be a reason for Punk’s consistent reappearance either.
However, the ideology of Punk Rock is a common element between the sound and the fashion that we associate with Punk.
DO IT YOURSELF
One of the most confusing and contradictory sentiments to come out of Punk Rock is that of DIY. The idea behind the music is that it’s for the common man. It’s for everybody. There are three chords. Anybody can pick up a guitar and write a punk song. The drummer can be blackout drunk and as long as somebody can yell out “1, 2, 3, 4!” at the beginning of each song, he can keep beat.
However, DIY represents the ultimate in individual capability and separation from one’s peers. Want to put out a record? Do it yourself. Paste fliers. Play gigs in your mom’s garage. Want some new clothes? Do it yourself. Patch up the holes with other clothes. Whatever you do, don’t pay somebody else to do it for you. Express your individuality in whatever way you see fit. Reject the system. Rebel. React. Anarchy as a punk philosophy was becoming a way of life.
Because of the inherent collective vs. individual contradiction, people were claiming that punk was dead a few years after it was born. People were finding it very hard to continue to think for themselves. They needed a model to follow. Thus began The Sex Pistols rise to fame.
The DIY style eroded into a movement of Johnny Rotten and Sid Vicious clones. The embodiment of The Sex Pistols was reactionary style of every kind. Leather and Bondage gear came into style (as mentioned above). Music was short, violent, and espoused controversial themes and ideas. This became so popular that the punk movement had to collapse in upon itself. Punk could no longer be a rejection of the system or of true DIY aesthetic if “Never Mind the Bollocks” is topping the charts.
Punk is dead.
But then it was born again. Hardcore was born out of the ashes of classic punk and remained a powerful force from the end of the 70s to the mid 80s. Many people claim that this is the “true” punk because it was the most successful at maintaining the DIY philosophy that the 70s punks had corrupted. It also maintained that anybody could start a band, and that the music should be no frills and no “wankery.” The music was a collective force once again, with little distinction between the bands and the fans.
However, by the end of the 80s, this style had run its course. The bands were unsatisfied with the musical limitations of Hardcore. The violence of the shows was becoming an end rather than a means. The music had to evolve or it would be come stagnant. Now the first wave of Emo was to appear in order to discuss something other than politics and social reaction: feelings.
Punk is dead.
After a short break with Grunge, the 90s alternative scene saw the next revival of Punk Rock with pop-punk. Green Day led the way. The main difference here was that the sound was polished, clear (although distorted, obviously), and displayed individual talent. The individual need for self expression had overtaken the collective need for accessibility. However, pop-punk was more accessible than ever for the fans.
Alternative rock, not caring as much about rejecting any system, had paved the way for pop-punk’s mainstream success. DIY wasn’t necessary because there wasn’t anything stopping you from getting a contract. You could get radio airtime, high paid stadium gigs, new clothes whenever you wanted… The industry knew Punk Rock was coming back, and they were ready. The underground had moved towards Indie Rock, some forms of Metal, and Noise Rock. This is where DIY had made a new home.
In a sense, anybody could still form a pop-punk band, and, by the end of the 90s and the early 00s, they were. Feeding off of the mainstream success of bands like Green Day, Blink 182, The Offspring, NOFX, and Pennywise you had bands that barely resembled punk at all: Sum 41& Something Corporate come to mind pretty easily.
Punk is dead.
Reacting against the early success of pop-punk and growing from the roots of its 80s predecessors, Emo had been forging a strong underground fan-base in the mid 90s. At first, keeping with a certain DIY ethic (although now it had evolved into more of an “Independent” or “Indie” ethic), these bands were creating their own labels and signing like-minded bands. Bands like Braid, The Get Up Kids, and Jimmy Eat World were some of the most popular and were often used as models for a new DIY fashion style: geek-chic.
However, this style was arguably more pioneered by Weezer than anybody else.
Regardless, the once individualistic, yet collectively accessible, style became popular in mainstream culture in the early 00s and all the bands were starting to sound the same.
Punk is dead.
The question is, then, why do we keep seeing this style being reborn again and again? Why won’t it stay dead? Who is going to reel in the new era of Punk Rock?
It’s being reborn because it’s a necessary struggle: individual vs. society, independence vs. collectivity. Its a style that has no resolution because its battling itself. It’s completely reactionary. Music, like anything else in the world, is something we want to own; to have for ourselves and nobody else. At the same time, we want to share it with everybody and relinquish our ownership. Make it yours, but make it accessible. This contradiction is inherent in Punk Rock. Share it with everybody, but don’t lose yourself. It’s the struggle of identity.
So long as you have a need for exclusivity and a reaction against the mainstream, you will always have Punk Rock. Inevitably, it will always crash in upon itself and be reborn in another form.
However, at this point I was forced to consider alternatives to my own selfish idea of what a concert should be. Was I wrong to want people to get up and dance? Obviously they wanted to sit, so what right do I have to apply my own concert-going tendencies to them? Even though I knew in my heart of hearts that they were having less fun as a result of their choice, shouldn’t I respect their decision to be boring?
