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09:02:2006:
Soft Focus, American Hardcore, and Why I'm Not
Going
Writer/musician
Ian
Svenonius of Weird War, Make-Up, Nation of Ulysses,
etc., has been in New York of late filming his new talk show, Soft
Focus for Vice TV. The last three weeks he’s interviewed
Henry Rollins, Ian McKaye, Adrew W.K., Will Oldham, Chan Marshall,
and Genesis P. Oridge (seven people I’d love to witness at
a dinner party). There’s no music, no backdrop, no nonsense,
no corporate product placement or ads on the set. Just a subtle
comic light-dimming followed by an in-depth conversation. I hope
they don’t over-edit it because this is exactly what the world
needs now - not love sweet love, though that’d be nice as
well – but something a bit deeper than soundbites.
I’ve
only been able to attend the first of three tapings, the one with
Rollins
and McKaye.
While Svenonius respectfully quizzed both about a variety of topics,
I couldn’t help but think that, for my world, this is our
“greatest generation.” They both remain completely unique
individuals who, along with quite a few others in the American post-punk
years, built our little corner of the world, band-by-band, record-by-record,
club-by-club, store-by-store, disaffected suburban kid by disaffected
suburban kid. Not only are both still musicians, but McKaye is still
the boss of Dischord and Rollins still has his publishing company.
I don't think I'm being a cynical thirty-something when I imagine
that we’re not going to see the likes of these two for some
time…
The hardcore
generation, despite its faults, was definitely not doing things
to become rich and famous, but anti-rock stars in every sense of
the word, even Greg Ginn (I think). Well aware that theirs was not
the type of music that ever had a chance on the radio, this small
group of folks set up their own universe as an alternative to that
of A&R guys, managers, and publicists. And, while more than
a few records from the hardcore era hold up, the main thing that
survives is not only our touring circuit, or our record store network,
but also the seeds they planted within us… That little pang
of guilt when we sell out, give in, or merely accept things that
we don’t believe in. They offered us a wonderful and uncompromising
world, or stand against the predominant world, that, no matter what
you hear, is still valid in this age when lines are much blurrier
and selling out has become, for most, a necessity.
I don’t
believe that the DIY values are completely antiquated and am aware
of a few circles of young and old folks employing them in various
edges of the music world – in basements, warehouses, art galleries,
and other makeshift venues, putting out CD-R’s, cassettes,
and even 45s. There’s still plenty of music not touched by
the entertainment divisions of multinational corporations, Madison
Avenue, or even the inflated “indie-music” industry
(though sadly, half of the stuff you find here, though indie-ish,
is of that lesser evil).
Which
leads me to my conclusion – a few days after hearing Rollins
and McKaye, I wound up attending the after-premier party for American
Hardcore. For those of you not familiar, this
is a film version of Steve Blesh’s oral history about the
musical/cultural movement divided into regional scenes. I read the
book, which had its merits, and was on the fence about going to
yet another doc about twenty years ago or whatever, but the after-party
was hard to turn down as it included a set by the recently reformed
Flipper,
one of my favorite bands of the era and one that I’ve yet
to see since they've been at it again.
The event
was thrown by Paper magazine and sponsored by Dos Equis
(they both get a shoutout - promotion is working!) and I arrived
just in time to grab a beer and catch the entire set. Flipper was
certainly one of the most confrontational and uncompromising bands
of their era, and watching these unfashionable, weathered, and very
real middle aged men proved they still hadn’t given in more
than an inch or two. That night their banter was more concerned
with immediate issues: demanding the admittance of a kid who couldn’t
get in because he was too young, complaining about the smoking ban,
and, when an audience member said, “fuck the hippies,”
calling him “ignorant” and taking time to explain that
if he had any sense he’d realize the real problem is the corporate
fascist state. They even had Moby, who played with them once in
the early 1980s, join them on bass for “Sex Bomb,” and
then Bruce Loose literally removed the celebrity’s instrument
and kicked the him off of the stage – harsh – but still
loving in an old school way.
What
I think the band didn’t know was that, once the American
Hardcore slideshow began to role behind them, it was an endless
loop of about ten frames that degraded the entire experience even
more than the sponsorships, the venue itself, and half of the guests.
The loop started out with a picture of young Rollins, probably circa
1981, stagediving. The next frame was an ad for Vans. The following
frame was SSD Control. Then an ad for Dos Equis. Then an early-1980s
hardcore crowd. Then something involving Sony Pictures and Paper,
etc. Then something involving late-period Black Flag. These ten
or so frames repeated dozens of times throughout the duration of
the set of nihilistic sludge. Though this display could easily be
read as the incongruity between image and sound in the terms of
the Brechtian V-effect - intended to distance the spectator from
the drama, making a statement by pointing out the irony of the contrasting
sound and image, it seemed lost on most of the crowd. I felt like
I was living the conclusion to A Clockwork Orange and these
folks, who just saw an entire movie about an alternate way of living
seemed to be OK with it. A girl who talked to me told me I was being
a downer. I’m sure Flipper had no idea what was happening
behind them, but, as we now write histories that remove the band
and their values from our own time, closing the door on an era,
that moment at whatever the name of the phoney-ass Chelsea nightspot
(no more shout-outs for lameness) spoke volumes about the meaning
that we’re being told to derive from the entire era (or not
derive at this point). And, while Sony may spread the some of the
virus, it's likely that the kid's'll pick up on the violence and
the aesthetics that marked the movement more than the ethos. I left
feeling the inexplicable desire for one more Dos Equis, a copy of
Paper, a pair of Vans, and any thing released by that trusted media
company Sony.
I guess
I should just do my duty as a twenty-first century citizen and disembody
the moment, leaving it be and merely saying that the band sounded
amazing and the beer was fine....
But all
of us have that little McKaye on our shoulder telling us it’s
all bullshit... Are we supposed grin at the perversity of the fact
that Sony Classics is offering us a portrait of an anti-establishment
movement? If so, that's the worst kind of cynicism... Before you
knock me off of my high Trojan horse (note to media - don't let
me in to anything), in the tradition of blind idealism and old-school
self-righteousness, let me go on the record as saying, SCREW THAT.
I'm refuse. If you really need to find out about hardcore, listen
the records instead...
Of course
I'm a hypocrite in this conversation - the talk show I'm praising
will appear on Vice TV and I put Google ads up here to pay a small
portion of my expenses... Nonetheless, I don't think the better
lessons of the hardcore era, particularly regarding economics and
art, are no longer convincing. I still hope we can continue to learn
from theIan McKayes, Jello Biafras, Corey Rusks, Calvin Johnsons,
or other musicians of the era who took matters into their own hands
and refused to compromise - setting their own terms and their own
economies, finding alternate paths, and even different destinations.
We are still living in the distorted tail of the networks they created
and have the power to continue experimenting with their countercultural
economic and artistic model if we so desire. It's either that or
Mc Nuggets. Maybe it's time we quit being so pragmatic and pick
a side once again.
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