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It was almost too much, really. From the supergroup opener to the celebrity interview to the classic album in-full, I still don’t know what to think. Something about hardcore never dying, à la Mogwai. Original Black Flag screamer Keith Morris’ newest outfit offered terse but concentrated stabs of fury. Henry Rollins, the Flag’s most recognized face, asked questions Mike Azerrad answered years ago. Erstwhile SST kids gone stoner, J. Mascis, Lou Barlow and Murph ran through the album that nearly tore them apart. And while it was certainly a night to remember, I’m having trouble noting which hour was the most awkward. As L.A. punk filmster Dave Markey filmed the whole thing for posterity — along with the steady hands of six outsourced fans — perhaps your children’s children will have a more decisive take.
To be fair, I’m a Dez Cadena guy. His time served in the purgatory of Jerry Only’s Misfits notwithstanding, he always struck me as Black Flag’s most talented, most versatile front man. Morris has a damn fine band himself though (Burning Bride Dimitri Coats, Redd Kross’ S.S. McDonald, and Mario Rubalcaba from Rocket From The Crypt/Hot Snakes), and if we’re awarding points on originality alone, all spoils go to Keith and his withering dreads. As for the former “Hank Garfield,” it has to be hard plodding through the same set of questions with the same three dudes night after night. After all, how many one-word responses to “why do you play so loudly?” does Mascis have to begrudgingly utter before the din of inquiry falls on deaf ears? About eight minutes, or so, for this sold-out crowd. If we’re giving props based only on viewer’s choice, Henry Rollins’ Charlie Rose pose would garner very little ratings.
Having already re-toured their best record back in 2005, ‘88’s Bug is the next chronological step on Dino Jr.’s nostalgic march to the sea. But it’s hardly a warm and fuzzy left-right-left. Only a year after You’re Living All Over Me, apropos, J. Mascis and Lou Barlow were quickly becoming the Bob Mould/Grant Hart of Amherst, Mass. I’m all for indie water under the DIY bridge, but when it costs thirtysomething bucks just to cross, I can’t help but be a bit resentful. Again, something about harDCore values and five-dollar shows in MacKaye’s hometown. Honestly, what’s more to say about Bug — especially “Freak Scene” as anthem – that hasn’t been said before me? Moreover, is there anything left to write on the necromancy of indie rock? You can point the finger at Brian Wilson or Cheap Trick for starting it, maybe, but I think the heaviest sword has to fall on All Tomorrow’s Parties and its misnomed “Don’t Look Back” series. Typical, P4K didn’t help the situation by aping the trend for their own festival in Chicago.
Of course, when your steak’s already cut for you, what’s a few songs à la carte amongst friends? To wit, Bug’s dissection began with an intro of “In A Jar” and “The Wagon.” The 9:30 Club on V Street isn’t the 9:30 of yore on F, so Dino Jr. weren’t as loud as they’re so fabled to be. And when Bug was exterminated, the band came back and offered encores of “Sludgefeast” and “Raisins.” Safe behind his stacks, J. played straight man to Lou’s thrashing about (who’s lo-fi Sebadoh side, incidentally, recently received its own Bakesale reissue). Like clockwork, Murph beat away with both aggression and aplomb. More so than “Freak Scene” even, Bug’s most telling song is “Don’t.” Indicative of so many things about the band at that time, J. wrote it, but it’s Lou that actually barks its five frightening words: “WHY DON’T YOU LIKE ME?!?” But with everyone playing nice on stage, it was “Jeremy, from Arkansas” who got pulled up from the crowd to do the honor. Barlow blamed a bum voice for his abdication, but I suspect there was more to it than meets the eye, nose or throat. Despite the rosy tint that time often tenors, when you’re looking back, you’ve gotta take both the good and the bad. As Keith Morris or Henry Rollins would no doubt agree, those are just the facts of life, indeed.
