"Decisions Will Now Be Ours"

Today I found an awesome soundboard recording of Fugazi at Philly's Electric Factory in 1997. I saw them there in 2002 with Lungfish and The Ex, and the set list here is relatively similar to what I remember it being then: heavy on songs from my personal favorite album of theirs, End Hits. It makes sense, since that album would be released soon after this show was played, and their next album The Argument wouldn't be released until after I saw them. They played for three fucking hours that night, and I remember thinking how awesome it was when they came out for (what I'm almost positive was) a third encore, and not having any intention of leaving because who knew when I'd get to see them again.

I didn't see them again, and now they're broken up. The fact that Fugazi is currently broken up or on hiatus or whatever term they're using that basically means yeah sorry we're pretty much done is a fucking severe-level travesty. It got me thinking about bands like Fugazi and Sleater-Kinney and Hum and all the other awesome bands that break up or go on hiatus while shit-sucking devil-music makers like Bon Jovi continue to blight our society with their cliche marathons ("It's my life/It's now or never/I ain't gonna live forever", etc. That song is one continuous cliche topped with the cherry of calling Frank Sinatra "Frankie", as if Jon Bon Jovi would've lasted five minutes in a room with Sinatra without getting hung from the balcony by his mullet) and a keyboard player who seems to be consumed by the superstition that if he changes his look by even one degree from what it was when they recorded Slippery When Wet, all of their good fortune will be retroactively annihilated.

Bands like Fugazi, Sleater-Kinney, et al played their music with integrity, and served no one but themselves and their music. That's how they wanted it, and that's how they kept it. No major multi-media stadium tours (unless you count S-K opening for Pearl Jam, which I don't, but if you do you can feel free to start your own blog: it's free), no million-dollar deals, just music. That's what made them so good, and that's why All Hands On the Bad One and You'd Prefer An Astronaut are such great albums and why they are devoid of filler and why they still hold up eight and twelve years (respectively) after being released. When you do that though, when your only allegiance is to the integrity of the band and your band mates, it's a lot easier to call it quits when things aren't working out or when other interests take over.

But when you're in Bon Jovi, man, you've got all that money and fame and success coming at you, and there ain't no way you're breaking up or leaving. Once you get to that level it's like marrying a wealthy man/woman who turns out to be abusive: you get dependant on that wealth and luxury to the point where all you see when you look at your welts are dollar signs. In that kind of setting where you're getting money thrown at you to make shitty music you become willing to overlook any personal issues you might have with your band mates and the music they make, or any aspirations you might have outside the band. And believe me I'm just using BJ (ha, their initials would be "BJ", wouldn't they?) as an example here, there are plenty of other bands you could include/substitute. What they want is to be successful, they want to make lots of money. And how are they going to do it? Music. Let's use our limited musical talents to make lots of money and surround ourselves with people who will tell us our hair looks fine. At the base level, they are no different from the cover bands that tour up and down New Jersey (the real cause of our pollution and foul stench, I'll have you know) collecting appallingly large paychecks for playing cover versions of the very same Bon Jovi songs.

Which is ironic because Fuzzy Bunny Slippers, a cover band who I saw a few times at Jenkinson's Pavilion (now "Jenks") in Point Pleasant where I used to go watch cover bands and drink expensive beer because I was an idiot, used to play a cover of Fugazi's "Waiting Room".