Wednesday, October 25, 2006. Immediately after my six-to-nine
night class, I run over and join two of my close friends and head down
to Queen Street West. The Funhaus,
to be precise. The doors
opened at eight, and the show was meant to begin at 8:40, but that's okay, because
we're here mostly for the main event: for the first time in years and
years, Propagandhi are playing Toronto again. Propa-fuckin'-gandhi,
standard-bearers for ultra-political punk rock, those snot-nosed kids
from Portage-la-Prairie (a suburb of Winnipeg, Manitoba, no less!), the poster-boys
for righteous rage and super-fast, blazing, metal-tinged rock, not just
for Canada but for the whole
world. Anyone who says that
today's music has nothing to say either has never heard Propagandhi or
doesn't want to.
The
problem, of course, is that being conscious of DIY punk, the
anarchist-progressive-politics movement, and with running G7 Welcoming
Committee, Canada's only major media outlet completely organized
according to the principles of participatory economics, can be kind of
time consuming. Despite being together for roughly fifteen years,
Propagandhi only just released their fourth studio album, Potemkin City Limits, last year, and
have only now found time to tour for it. But I'm not complaining; if they
changed that kind of thing, they wouldn't be the Propagandhi who never
failed to give meaning to the often onerous life of the outcast and
angry teenager I was when I first fell in love with them.
Now,
before I get on to the show itself, let me just address the elephant in
the room; yes, some of you are Weakerthans
fans, and some of you have only heard of Propagandhi via the Weakerthans, and so you're asking me, “Is
that an appropriate basis of comparison?” The answer, of course, is “Hells
no!” See, John K.
Samson, quasi-celebrity frontman of the Weakerthans, was the original bassist for Propandhi, playing on How to Clean Everything and the definitive Less Talk, More Rock, their
first two studio albums; he also sang a total of two and a half songs
for Propagandhi during that time (LT,MR's
“Gifts” and “Anchorless,” later covered on the Weakerthans' debut Fallow, and one verse on HTCE's spectacular
standout track, “Showdown G.E.P.,” later covered by my own
badass high school punk rock band, the Virgin Regicides; no recorded
copies exist of that atrocity, however). Alright, now that that's out of
the way, let's move on...
What
can I say? I was
disappointed? They didn't
live up to my expectations?
Of course not! It
was friggin' amazing! Hundreds of sweaty bodies up
front, crushing the shit out of me and damn near breaking my legs on
the front of the knee-level stage the whole time I was there; nowhere
near enough oxygen, which meant chest pains for the forty minutes
before I made my way back out to the street, literally steaming from
all the sweat soaking my clothes (much of it likely not my own); my
ears ringing for the next forty-eight hours, completely fucking up my
speech for much of that time; and bruises to go along with the bruised
throat I got from singing my heart out the whole time. Everything one could ever expect
from a top-level punk rock show.
There's
something incredibly inspiring about being in a large crowd chanting
along with Propagandhi's inimitable anthems
of resistance. Particularly great moments included the snotty but
appropriate rage of “Resisting Tyrannical Government” (“Jesus
saves, Gretzky scores/The workers slave, the rich get more/One more
move, you miss the cup/Play the man, not the puck/... And yes, I recognize
the irony/The system I oppose affords me the luxury/Of biting the hand
that feeds/But that's exactly why privileged fucks like me/Should feel
obliged to whine and kick and scream/Yeah, 'til everyone has everything
they need!”); the in-your-face anti-homophobia of "Less
Talk, More Rock" ("Wrote this song 'cause it's fucking
boring/To keep spelling out the words that you keep ignoring/Your macho
shit won't phase me now/It just makes us laugh, we got your cash,
court-jester take a bow... ‘Cause if you dance to this, you drink
to me/And my sexuality/With your hands down my pants by transitive
property"), particularly fruitful because of the number of fratboy-looking likely homophobes in the crowd made
uncomfortable; and the incredible earnest and sentiment of the title
track from their third album, Today's
Empires, Tomorrow's Ashes (“The nail that sticks up gets
hammered down/The master's finest tools are found/Slack-jawed and
placid amidst the cacaphony/Of screaming
billboards and Disney-fied history/...Someday,
somewhere, today's empires/Are tomorrow's ashes”). It was amazing, flat out.
Now,
one thing worth noting is that dedicating one's youth to punk
rock/veganism/feminism/anti-homophobia/social justice/progressive
politics and the smashing of global fascism appears to make one a
little bit bitter, a process well-reflected in the increasing length,
complexity, and jadedness of the average Propagandhi song over the last
couple of records. I was a
little worried that this would be equally reflected in their live show,
which would have been just a little disappointing, since this is a band
that used to be known not only for their ultra-radical stance but also
for the fun and hijinks they would bring to the stage. Once I saw drummer Jordy-boy
emerge wearing a “Leafs Suck” t-shirt, though, I knew it
would be okay, and aside from a little (and in fact entirely welcome)
speech from current bass-player Todd the Rod before “Bringer of
Greater Things” (possibly the closest thing to a dirge in the
Propagandhi catalogue), the night was almost entirely free of political
invective and polemic... to the degree that I wondered a little bit if
they weren't actually a little self-conscious about becoming so bitter
in later years. Whatever,
though, it was a spectacular fuckin' night,
and I couldn't have hoped for more from the men who, as far as I'm
concerned, are the real leaders of contemporary punk rock, in all of
its senses... and anyone who disputes that is simply not paying
attention.
And
on that, let me leave you the same way Propagandhi leave their live
audiences (albeit without the badass and blazing guitar solo) with a
line from Today's Empires,
Tomorrow's Ashes final track and perennial show-closer “The
Purina Hall of Fame”: “Better lives have been lived in the
margins, locked in the prisons and lost at the gallows, than have ever
been enshrined in palaces.”
Yeah. Propagandhi
would have wanted it that way.
