["About me" posts, despite their name, are meant to have some relevancy to the reader as well. See my introduction to them here.]
I'm a punk. No, I've never worn a torn shirt with safety pins, nor contemplated a mohawk (and not just because I couldn't grow one if I tried). I've got a college degree. I didn't grow up "on the streets". I haven't touched a single (non-musical) drug in my life. I've never smashed a beer bottle in the street. Musically, alongside rock, I've played folk songs, disco and Mizrahi. I've covered the Sex Pistols, and I've covered the Beatles; I've covered Simon & Garfunkel and Nirvana. I pay my taxes. My police record is clean. I'm nearly ten years past my teens. I've worked at the same institution (in different capacities) for 6 years now. Rest assured these are all irrelevant to the subject at hand - I am, undoubtedly, 200%, a punk.
The word "punk" has gathered an incredible mishmash of meanings. For many, the image that still comes to mind is that of thuggery - ratty clothes, "fuck-you" attitude, outspokenness, smashing things, crudeness. "Punk politics" has come to include a grab bag of causes, from anti-authoritarianism to veganism to anarchism to fascism to extreme left-wing politics. So first of all, I have to clarify: I'm not talking about punk the musical form, nor the "fashion", nor the politics of punk. I'm talking about punk as a way of life; the ideology of punk.(1)
The pervasive, mostly negative image of "punks" I mentioned above, stems primarily from the more visible sections of its audience, rather than from most of its original musical founders - especially those in the US. To avoid a laborious history lesson, just take it from me: in 1975-77, when punk was still in its infancy, the only things the so-called "punks" in the States had in common were lots of energy and a critical thought process.
So what is the ideology of punk? Punk ideology combines anti-dogmatism with a simple imperative: think. As Jello Biafra, singer of the great Dead Kennedys, put so succinctly: "punk ain't no religious cult - punk means thinking for yourself". It discourages preconception - don't automatically reject an idea simply because it seems out of left field. Always question, but stay balanced. Don't automatically go with "the majority", nor be a reactionary for its own sake. A punk tries as much as possible to simply remove the common wisdom from the equation. Punks have a healthy disregard for norms and empty rhetoric as any kind of indication of "worth". Rather, they'll try to deconstruct a situation and put it back together themselves. If the conclusions coincide with extant norms, that's fine. If they don't, that's fine too. Needless to say, they will often fall somewhere in between.
Despite its uneven implementation among punks, punk ideology tries to avoid being auto-rejectionist. If someone doesn't agree with you, he/she is not "the enemy". By all means try to convince by way of rational explanation, but certainly don't catalog and otherwise reject out of hand the validity of others' opinions. Punk is not relativist, though. A common trapping of the aforementioned rejection-of-the-assumed is that it can lead to a paralysis of self-doubt. But the punk outlook is a positivist one: it encourages action, and it encourages forming a well-considered opinion. Yes, always be open to criticism of your opinion, be willing to revise, update or replace it entirely if need be, but first make sure you have one, and know why you do.
The next obvious question is why use the term "punk" and not just, say, "thoughtful person"? Without making an overly restrictive generalization, it's because punk ideology has one added tendency that's not intrinsic to a thoughtful person: the desire to simplify. This comes across in punk as the musical genre, but also as a way to make choices in life. A punk will look for a simpler way to do things, and appreciate functionality and practicality. It doesn't mean he/she is trying to live like a monk, nor that he/she must be free of any guilty pleasures; but by and large, the ornate, the overpriced and the extravagant are instinctively off-putting to a punk. This is why you will see some punks choose to live communally, shunting the job-car-house-family track(2), and why you will see a tendency towards simplicity and directness in the music. But this criteria is actually fairly flexible - one needn't be resistant to economic or social status advancement to be a punk; he/she should only not see them as the prime measures of "success" in life.
Last but not least, punk ideology requires being a civil human being. As Ian Mackaye, one of the first to actually sing and speak about these issues, said in an interview recently: "When I play music, there is no code of behavior beyond general humanitarian [values-R.T.]: you don't attack, assault people, or be ugly or intolerant.. but that would be the same if I invited anyone to my house for dinner, too."(3)
(1) I'm not trying to create an artificial split between punk the music and punk the ideology. Needless to say, punk began as a musical movement. But its ideology existed right from the start, and permeated the music in both its composition and its subject matter.
(2) Again, this too comes across in the music - see my mention of the brilliant economy of a certain punk band in an earlier post. This is also the principle driving many of the political strains mentioned above - anti-consumerism, environmental concerns and social justice - though the dogmatism that often accompanies them defeats the very purpose of punk as I see it..
(3) Available here. Be warned - while Mackaye shines (as usual), the interviewer doesn't really "get it".
Monday, January 08, 2007
Wednesday, January 03, 2007
Monotonix: The Band That'll Put a Smile on Your Face
..even as you're pinned to the floor - by their singer.
Had this whole post on agnosticism and faith ready, but forget that.. Every once in a while I see a band I'm happy just to know exists. Quick background: I'm a huge music fan - first and foremost, though not reserved to, rock music. listen to tons of it, Play in two bands.. Big on all things with an independent bent and strong emotion, but that's for a later post.
Just got back from catching the Monotonix at the Sira bar in Jerusalem. They're a Tel-Aviv based trio consisting only of a drummer, a guitarist and singer. No second guitar, no bass. To compensate, Yonatan, the guitarist, plays a detuned guitar through a bass amp, and deftly goes back and forth between bass-like passages and guitar. On top of that, the drummer bashes his minimal kit - no toms, just a snare, bass drum and a few cymbals - standing up. From these two instruments, they manage to coax as full a sound as anyone could hope for. The economy of it all is inspiring.
But the real center of attention is Ami, the short, mustachioed, 45(!!)-year-old singer; though that's probably the most peripheral part of his presence on stage. Just last night:
He routinely walked deep into the audience and hugged or kissed people, especially the ones in the back who weren't paying attention.
Halfway through the second song, I offered him my beer and he immediately proceeded to pour it on his head.
All this may read like mere shock tactics, like he was trying too hard to "entertain" - but he wasn't. What doesn't come across is the basic human warmth he spread in the crowd, even when he seemed over-the-top. The feelings this man managed to coax, along with the ear-piercing but ever melodic rhythm section.. you just had to be there. He wants to get everyone involved. Israeli audiences tend to be quite calm - they'll cheer for a few second after a song and then fall deathly quiet; Ami's out there just trying to wake everyone up, without ever seeming like he's struggling against them or somehow dissatisfied with them.
The single greatest thing about this band is their utter lack of pretension. None of Ami's antics seemed at all forced; he was just having fun. No one at a Monotonix show could even try to maintain some air of false poise or distanced "cool" with this madman crashing into them at every opportunity. Everyone was smiling. You had to. Even if you hated them, you were smiling.
By the end of the set, I felt like the random batch of people that made up the audience had been joined, if only for a moment, by this singular experience. It's a feeling I rarely get these days at shows, but I did tonight. Long live Monotonix!
Had this whole post on agnosticism and faith ready, but forget that.. Every once in a while I see a band I'm happy just to know exists. Quick background: I'm a huge music fan - first and foremost, though not reserved to, rock music. listen to tons of it, Play in two bands.. Big on all things with an independent bent and strong emotion, but that's for a later post.
Just got back from catching the Monotonix at the Sira bar in Jerusalem. They're a Tel-Aviv based trio consisting only of a drummer, a guitarist and singer. No second guitar, no bass. To compensate, Yonatan, the guitarist, plays a detuned guitar through a bass amp, and deftly goes back and forth between bass-like passages and guitar. On top of that, the drummer bashes his minimal kit - no toms, just a snare, bass drum and a few cymbals - standing up. From these two instruments, they manage to coax as full a sound as anyone could hope for. The economy of it all is inspiring.
But the real center of attention is Ami, the short, mustachioed, 45(!!)-year-old singer; though that's probably the most peripheral part of his presence on stage. Just last night:
He routinely walked deep into the audience and hugged or kissed people, especially the ones in the back who weren't paying attention.
Halfway through the second song, I offered him my beer and he immediately proceeded to pour it on his head.
He duck-taped himself to someone and thus "forced" him to dance with him for an entire song, then "hung" off him with the tape, singing like it's all in a day's work...
He spent the rest of the show covered in tape, with his own left shoe dangling by the shoelaces from the mike cable.
he set the cymbals on fire...
he set the cymbals on fire...
he jokingly (or not) yelled at the barman for doing "business" in the middle of "his show".
he jumped right onto this haredi guy and clung to him for a good minute straight - while singing.
He would walk out the door... walk into the audience and drag someone to the stage, then wrestle him to the floor (I was one such victim. He didn't get much resistance, though - I was paralyzed by laughter!)
he climbed to the top of the bathroom stall, a good three meters off the floor, and sang from there.
..and for the brilliant end of the show, he took the cymbals away from the drummer one by one, and handed them to people in the audience, along with sticks for them to bash away in their own time.. Ran, the drummer, was left with only his snare, which he set up on top of the bar counter, and carried right on playing it standing there. All the while, Ami was on top of the bar with him, waving two lightbulbs like a 'luded-out hippie.All this may read like mere shock tactics, like he was trying too hard to "entertain" - but he wasn't. What doesn't come across is the basic human warmth he spread in the crowd, even when he seemed over-the-top. The feelings this man managed to coax, along with the ear-piercing but ever melodic rhythm section.. you just had to be there. He wants to get everyone involved. Israeli audiences tend to be quite calm - they'll cheer for a few second after a song and then fall deathly quiet; Ami's out there just trying to wake everyone up, without ever seeming like he's struggling against them or somehow dissatisfied with them.
The single greatest thing about this band is their utter lack of pretension. None of Ami's antics seemed at all forced; he was just having fun. No one at a Monotonix show could even try to maintain some air of false poise or distanced "cool" with this madman crashing into them at every opportunity. Everyone was smiling. You had to. Even if you hated them, you were smiling.
By the end of the set, I felt like the random batch of people that made up the audience had been joined, if only for a moment, by this singular experience. It's a feeling I rarely get these days at shows, but I did tonight. Long live Monotonix!
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