"Believe in this: we are a part of a whole we call the Earth" - Minutemen, "King of the Hill" (1985)
The first talkie was a bit of a mess -- so here's a quick write-up I did to give you a better idea of what I was trying to say... don't go looking for the audio from this show, now...
Faith is a hard cross to bear. By bearing it, you subject yourself to the tribulations that come with believing in something big and expose yourself to the critique that comes with believing in anything at all. If you let your faith lead you -- let it mold you into that image, you put your personhood at risk of the Great Disappointment. What you have built yourself upon could crumble to the earth and be swept away into a bitter wind. The world might reject you; and worse, others might be forever blind to the principles that underline your faith. But that is the hurdle you must leap in order to believe.
Depending on who you ask, punk is either a mighty cause or a fool's errand -- with little in-between. Much of punk is performance: spiked hair paired with a leather jacket, frustrated language in the face of government authority, offensive symbology as an affront to polite society, banging out three chords on a cheapo guitar. But much of it is also belief: romance, authenticity, nihilism, freedom. Based on your own perception of punk, some things mentioned appear more trivial than others. Everyone involved and observing has an idea of what it is, with much of these ideas conflicting. Over time, punk's abstract has been squeezed and shifted by both good and bad faith actors; it has metamorphosized on its own terms; it has deteriorated and been rebuilt over and over again; and it now lives on as an amorphous specter haunting over the musical topography of our present. However, its caricature has long been molded into the rigid shape we see today in various forms of media.
Minutemen found themselves in the midst of that formation, and they whole-heartedly rejected it. Coming up as teenagers in San Pedro, Mike Watt and D. Boon adored the 70s pioneers; Boon (reluctantly) sings "Richard Hell, Joe Strummer, John Doe" on one of their most quotable songs, "History Lesson Part II." They saw themselves in the freaks that populated the first wave. If those freaks could do what they wanted and still be part of the scenery -- then goddamn it, so would they! With surfer-gone-jock-drummer George Hurley in tow, Minutemen formed in 1980 with a definitive ideal in mind: challenge. As they pressed on through to the mid-80s, they reveled in confusing the punks in the audience who were certain of what punk was supposed to be.
Defiant, wide-stanced, and already sweating under sketchy club lights, Minutemen would plunge headlong into a setlist of mind-bending jazz-punk-funk. They crashed and careened through jagged rhythms, only to -- like a flashbang set upon the stage -- drop into subdued, disarming grooves full of sly charm. All the while, they fired off candid spiels that shot out and lodged themselves deep into the listener's ear and mind. It's a sound born not of friction but of sharp, relentless consonance. They played and spoke with such conviction, you didn't just listen -- you believed, right there along with them.
Conviction -- there's no better word for it. Any other word would be a lie. Minutemen lived and breathed their faith in punk, a faith so pure it bordered on religious zeal, a kind of fervor that left no room for doubt. It's the kind of belief that could turn the most cynical onlooker into a true believer. Even Steve Albini, who had spent his early years performing a studied disdain for point-blank sincerity, couldn't escape this pull. When D. Boon died and Minutemen were no more, Albini -- famously guarded -- wrote, "Sure it's kind of pathetic to get all worked up over it but hell, they meant it, and that means something to me." In that moment, you see it: a band whose conviction was so fierce it shattered the walls of irony and detachment that would become characteristic of the next era of rock music. Yeah, Steve... they meant it, and that was their faith.
With all that said, I implore you to learn more about them:
Here's a cute but somewhat immature write-up done on the 20th anniversary of D. Boon's death: What Would D. Boon Do?
Here's a Quietus article about their "magnum opus" Double Nickels on the Dime (1984): I Live Sweat But I Dream Light Years: Minutemen’s Double Nickels On The Dime at 40
Here's an independent Minutemen documentary from 2005 that features interviews from Flea, Ian MacKaye, Henry Rollins, Thurston Moore among others: We Jam Econo: The Story of the Minutemen
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