Post by Fuggle on Feb 2, 2007 11:44:20 GMT -5
Out of Step: Ian MacKaye
Minor Threat - Embrace - Fugazi - The Evens
By Vish Khanna
January 31, 2007
When first approached about participating in this Timeline, Ian MacKaye politely declined. A pioneer of punk, hardcore, and independent music, MacKaye has fostered cultural change with the strength of his convictions, playing music on his own terms. Within his revolutionary work as an artist, MacKaye is a reluctant figurehead with no desire to perpetuate his own legend. “The thing you have to understand about me is I care but I don’t give a fuck,” he explains. “That’s just straight up. I really, really care about my work and the people I work with but ultimately, I don’t give a fuck. If you’d never called me and just wrote this story, I’d be like, ‘all right.’ Let me tell you something; I’ve had shit written about me that is so off base, so cruel, that if I cared, I wouldn’t be able to wake up and get out of bed. People are so uncharitable and so poor-minded with such dark aims; it becomes discouraging for me.”
In the end, MacKaye agreed to help ensure that this piece was as accurate as possible, separating facts from long-held fiction. It was a gracious move by a proactive artist interested more in his productive future than his accomplished past. “I reckon there’ll be a point in my life, perhaps, where there’ll be time to reflect on this sort of stuff but I would hope it would come after I feel that I’m finished doing things — so maybe it’ll never come.”
1962 to 1974
Ian MacKaye is born on April 16, 1962 in Washington D.C. to William R. and Mary Anne “Ginger” MacKaye. Both writers, Bill left the Seminary and later worked for the Washington Post for 20 years, including a stint as religion editor. Prior to this, Bill was a White House reporter and was in the motorcade when JFK was assassinated; most recently, he edited the crossword puzzle for the Washington Post Magazine. Ginger was a historical writer (“Ian MacKaye,” Dan Sinker, Punk Planet, #31, May/June 1999, p.41) and later became the unlikely matriarch of D.C. punk. Ian is one of five children and the MacKaye family is close. “When I didn’t go to school, my parents didn’t give me a hard time at all,” MacKaye later tells Punk Planet. “They were totally supportive. They knew that music was so important to me.” (Sinker, 41) MacKaye falls for the idealism and countercultural aspects of rock ‘n’ roll early, repeatedly watching Woodstock and listening to Jimi Hendrix. In 1974, Bill pursues a fellowship at Stanford University and the MacKayes live in Palo Alto, California for nine months.
1975 to 1976
At 13 years old, Ian returns to D.C. to discover his old friends drinking, smoking pot, and committing petty crimes; missing this transition, he is not impressed and abstains. (Our Band Could Be Your Life, by Michael Azerrad, p.120) A charismatic teen, MacKaye stuck out among a fledgling skateboarding posse of Woodrow Wilson High School renegades and neighbourhood kids such as Jeff Nelson and Henry Garfield. (Dance of Days, by Mark Andersen and Mark Jenkins, p.20-21)
1977 to 1978
MacKaye gravitates towards hard rock; at his first concert, he sees Queen and Thin Lizzy on the “Bohemian Rhapsody Tour” and they floor him. Soon after, he and Garfield attend a Ted Nugent show together, marvelling at his gonzo antics. Outspokenly anti-drugs, the Nuge in particular affects MacKaye and his fellow skaters for his intimidating virtuosity. Sensing that playing music is beyond him, the long-haired MacKaye sticks to skating. (Azerrad, 121) MacKaye’s interest in music resurfaces, however, after buying his first punk rock record (Sagittarius Bumpersticker) by a local father-and-son band called White Boy. The single’s homespun sound and look are a revelation. “That was my first inkling of an underground independent music thing,” MacKaye said. (Azzerad, 122) Older Wilson High kids like Nathan Strejcek adopt the British punk look and the skaters take notice. By 1978, Georgetown University radio station WGTB is a punk lifeline for MacKaye and company, who also make frequent trips to a nearby record store called Yesterday and Today, run by knowledgeable punk enthusiast Skip Groff. (Andersen and Jenkins, 23)
1979
On January 31, Georgetown University shuts down WGTB. Three days later, the frustration felt by MacKaye and other teens over the loss of the station manifests itself in a demonstration during the day and a rare all-ages concert that night at the Hall of Nations featuring New York’s the Cramps. Among the teenaged crowd, are four conspicuous black men, handing out flyers for an upcoming basement show by their brand new band, Bad Brains who will soon take D.C. by storm. A near-riot breaks out during the Cramps’ set, as singer Lux Interior taps into the crowd’s rage and chairs and windows are smashed. “At the time I thought Ted Nugent was really wild, so the Cramps show totally changed my life,” MacKaye recalled. “It was everything I thought rock ‘n’ roll should be. I was like, ‘This is it, I’m a punk rock motherfucker.’”(Andersen and Jenkins, 36) Weeks later, MacKaye and Nelson shave their heads and attend the Clash’s first D.C. show, stoking their desire to start a band. Though unfamiliar with their instruments, Nelson plays drums and MacKaye plays bass and they hook up with guitarist Geordie Grindle and singer Mark Sullivan to form the Slinkees. They learn covers (“Louie Louie”) and then write originals like the hippie-deriding “Deadhead,” “I Drink Milk,” and “Conservative Rock” among others. MacKaye later calls these “my first protest songs” (Andersen and Jenkins, 36) but the Slinkees play only one show before Sullivan goes off to college. He is replaced on vocals by Strejcek and, heavily influenced by Brit-punk and the speed and ethos of the proto-hardcore Bad Brains, the Teen Idles (with Garfield serving as an auxiliary member/roadie) emerge in December. (Andersen and Jenkins, 54)
1980
The Teen Idles’ punk look earns them undue attention from straight-laced jocks looking to fight. The band’s raw sound and youth-oriented lyrics inspire handles such as “Georgetown punks” (for the affluent neighbourhood where they hang out and work after-school) and the derisive “teeny-punk,” yet their ferocity is undeniable. The older Bad Brains guide them with their credo “Positive Mental Attitude” (PMA) after Strejcek’s parents’ basement serves as a practice space for both bands. The two share numerous gigs around D.C. and an early Teen Idles flyer promises “young fun new clean rock… no drugs.” (Andersen and Jenkins, 57) Less enamoured with Brit-punk, Georgetown punks soon look to west coast bands the Germs, Dead Kennedys, and Black Flag for inspiration and the Teen Idles crew take a bus to California for shows in August 1980. (Azerrad, 125) In San Francisco, they’re removed from a bill at the Mabuhay Gardens with Dead Kennedys, Circle Jerks, and Flipper, after the promoter decides they’re too young. They play a mismatched bill the next night instead but learn much from attending the DK show. The bar’s all-ages policy entails that underage kids have a black “X” marked on their hands so that bartenders know they’re not to be served alcohol. Circle Jerks fans also introduce slam dancing and fighting bouncers to the awestruck D.C. punks who are empowered by what they witness and bring it home with them. (Andersen and Jenkins, 66) While a demo session earlier in the year was abandoned, the Teen Idles talk about making a record; Skip Groff takes them seriously and produces a session for them at the Inner Ear home studio run by engineer Don Zientara. As completion of the eight songs winds down, the newly religious Grindle and atheist Nelson fall out, and the Teen Idles disintegrate. The record is shelved and, with MacKaye writing more songs that he wants to sing, he and Nelson resolve to start a new band. MacKaye sways Extorts singer Lyle Preslar to play guitar (the Extorts morph into State of Alert or S.O.A. with Garfield on vocals) and Brian Baker to play bass; the four practice new songs like “Straight Edge” even before the Teen Idles have finished. (Andersen and Jenkins, 70) The last Teen Idles show takes place in November at the new 9:30 Club, with management heeding the band’s wish to allow X-marked minors inside; X-marked hands eventually become the key signifier of straight edge punk. After the show, Nelson and MacKaye resolve that their new band will be called Minor Threat but, along with Groff, re-visit their old band’s recent recording session. Using the Teen Idles’ savings ($600), MacKaye, Nelson, and Strejcek press and self-assemble 1000 copies of the Idles’ Minor Disturbance E.P. seven-inch on their own label in December, which MacKaye dubs Dischord Records. (“The Teen Idles,” Putting DC on the Map, Dischord Records, p.16) Minor Threat play their first show at a house party opening up for Bad Brains in December and, miles ahead of the ramshackle Teen Idles, they floor everyone with their prowess and intensity with a sound soon dubbed “harDCore.”
1981
With fanzines and college radio supporting Minor Disturbance, Dischord fill orders from across the U.S. and MacKaye and Nelson resolve to put any profits into releasing records by emerging bands like Government Issue, Youth Brigade, and S.O.A. With Ronald Reagan’s inauguration fresh in the air, the Washington Post condemns the Georgetown punks for displays of anger, violence, and defiance of all authority. Minor Threat record their first demo with Zientara and Groff in February or March but return a month later to improve upon the songs. In March, MacKaye and others raise eyebrows with their slamdancing at a Black Flag show in New York; critic Robert Christgau describes them as “muscleheads from Washington” in a review. Dischord later flips the insult for its Flex Your Head compilation. (Andersen and Jenkins, 83/Azerrad, 133) Black Flag are impressed by the antics and a year later audition Garfield to be their lead singer; excited for a fresh start in L.A., he’s accepted and changes his name to Henry Rollins. In June, Minor Threat’s self-titled, eight-song debut is released and its impact is immediate. Combining airtight musicianship, unbridled rage, and tunefulness, songs like “Filler,” “Screaming at a Wall,” and “Straight Edge” reveal MacKaye’s talents as a lyricist and lead singer, and his righteousness and moral stance is equally emulated and derided. Much to MacKaye’s surprise, “straight edge” soon blossoms into a philosophical lifestyle of abstinence from casual sex, drugs, and alcohol. When a 10-date tour with Youth Brigade in August goes awry, Preslar opts to attend Northwestern University that fall and Minor Threat disbands. Before they split, they record a second EP, In My Eyes, featuring the controversial “straight edge” anthem “Out of Step” and MacKaye’s self-conscious chronicle of living in a predominantly black community, “Guilty of Being White,” which is misinterpreted as a white pride song. (On their 1996 album Undisputed Attitude, the metal band Slayer cover the song, and alter one chorus to “guilty of being right.”) Fearing that MacKaye doesn’t enunciate the “I” before the “don’t drink, don’t smoke, don’t fuck, etc.” lyric on “Out of Step,” the song causes tension within the band, as other members (who occasionally smoke pot and drink) view MacKaye’s lyrics as dogmatic, while he believes its message is subjective and clearly positions him as a self-reflexive writer. Nevertheless, the band will later re-record the song complete with an explanatory rap by MacKaye and a revised lyric sheet accompanies its release. With Preslar gone, MacKaye and Nelson team up with guitarist Eddie Janney and bassist John Falls and form the short-lived Skewbald/Grand Union; MacKaye and Nelson cannot compromise on the name so they use both. (“Skewbald/Grand Union,” Putting DC on the Map, 36) In October, feature film star and former Saturday Night Live player John Belushi agrees to make a cameo appearance on his old show if producer Lorne Michaels allows L.A. punks Fear to perform on an episode. Procuring his number from mutual acquaintance Penelope Spheeris (director of the punk documentary The Decline of Western Civilization and later Wayne’s World), Michaels and Belushi call MacKaye’s home early one morning and ask him to assemble D.C. punks to slam dance on the air. MacKaye complies and, despite a raucous rehearsal in which a small piece of plastic is damaged on one of the television cameras, the punks appear on the broadcast. Deeming the dancers too unruly, producers cut to commercial early; afterwards, SNL lock the punks in a room for two hours and threaten to sue for the damages to the camera. (“Nardwuar vs. Ian MacKaye,” Doot Doola Doot Doo…Doot Doo, Mint Records, 2006) Strejcek reluctantly withdraws from the label’s operations, particularly after MacKaye and Nelson find an Arlington-area home they soon dub “Dischord House.” (Andersen and Jenkins, 98) The two keep straight-jobs to maintain the label’s operations and pay the bills, with MacKaye at one point juggling shifts at an ice cream parlour, a movie theatre, and as a newspaper delivery driver. (Azerrad, 143) After its December release, In My Eyes brings Minor Threat posthumous national attention and hardcore scenes sprout up across the land.
1982
MacKaye believes the band still has fans to reach and, when Preslar drops out of school, Minor Threat re-form in April, 1982. Facing a backlash for reuniting from a once close-knit D.C. community, MacKaye pens the sarcastic “Cashing In” before the band embark on their first national tour. Though questions about “straight edge” hound him, MacKaye is excited by the bands and audiences he encounters. To MacKaye’s chagrin, Baker insists on switching from bass to guitar that fall and recruits Steve Hansgen to play bass instead. The new Minor Threat play few shows that winter but they are filmed for the documentary Another State of Mind and they open for PiL; much to MacKaye’s disappointment, his hero John Lydon arrives by limousine after Minor Threat’s set.
1983 to 1984
In January, recording for Out of Step commences with lyrics pondering disintegrating relationships and fractious hardcore purism; upon its March release, the EP sells 3,500 copies in one week. Dischord develops an important business relationship with John Loder’s Southern Records, which manufactures and distributes Dischord’s catalogue in Europe. That spring, Minor Threat play 33 shows in 49 days across the U.S. and Canada and band tensions boil over. (Azerrad, 147) With the band paid minimally for shows, MacKaye is frugal on the road, which frustrates his band mates; their arguments about money on tour lead MacKaye to proclaim that their vehicle is “the van of hell.” (Andersen and Jenkins, 140) Baker and Preslar grow increasingly frustrated with the interactive nature of Minor Threat shows, with fans crashing the stage (and knocking their guitars out of tune) to sing along and dance; conversely, this openness means the world to MacKaye. Hansgen isn’t gelling with the band and on their return to D.C., he is dispatched and Baker is back on bass. To MacKaye’s dismay, the instrumentalists in Minor Threat fall in love with U2’s War, and emulate its sound. Unable and unwilling to sing over such melodic songs, MacKaye begins skipping practices; the ones he does attend turn into prolonged screaming matches and he soon withdraws completely. Weeks after what ends up being their final show on September 23, a band meeting is called and, sensing their commercial opportunities, Preslar and Baker make demands for stage risers and more say in money matters. (Andersen and Jenkins, 148) MacKaye realizes that the band is irreversibly divided and Minor Threat is finished for good; he acquiesces to Nelson’s pleas to record their final three songs and the Salad Days seven-inch is posthumously released in 1985. Overcoming severe depression after Minor Threat dissolved and dealing with Dischord’s mounting debts, MacKaye spends part of 1984 working at Groff’s record store. He focuses on documenting the shifting D.C. music scene and produces young bands, including the explosive Rites of Spring, which features guitarist Guy Picciotto and drummer Brendan Canty.
1985
A year and a half after disbanding Minor Threat, MacKaye and Nelson figure it’s time to start a new band together but discover that lingering Minor Threat frustrations exist; after brief get-togethers, they each resolve to work with other musicians. (“Embrace,” Putting DC on the Map, 50) MacKaye hooks up with guitarist Michael Hampton, bassist Chris Bald, and drummer Ivor Hanson. Ironically, these three went through an acrimonious split as Faith, a band fronted by Ian’s brother Alec. (“Embrace,” Putting DC on the Map, 50) Bald christens the band Embrace and their July debut during Washington’s spiritual “Revolution Summer” features an emotionally pent-up MacKaye bellowing over a startlingly moody soundtrack of melodious bass and edgy, atmospheric guitar. (Andersen and Jenkins, 183) Embrace lack the speed of MacKaye’s previous bands but contain a hauntingly stark intensity. The D.C. punk scene is in flux and shows attract ultra-violent skinhead gangs (dubbed “Rambo punks”) that co-opt the empowering, collective release of slam dancing and stage-diving; concerts erupt in riots, vandalism, and serious injuries and stabbings are reported. (Andersen and Jenkins, 171-172) By their second show, Embrace are handing out lyric sheets to audience members and, along with Rites of Spring, discouraging slam dancing skinheads at their shows, championing respect for one another instead (Andersen and Jenkins, 193) Embrace enter an upgraded Inner Ear near the end of 1985 and again in February of 1986 and record 14 songs.
1986
MacKaye’s emergent political lyrics and Embrace’s sound challenges fans and the skate-mag Thrasher dubs it “emo-core.” Though it is eventually shortened and accepted as “emo,” MacKaye calls it “the stupidest fucking thing I’ve ever heard in my entire life” on-stage at the 9:30 Club in March. (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=mbdh0Qm_5A0) Alas, this proves to be Embrace’s final show, as Bald and Hampton, who frequently butt heads in their friendship, experience a serious falling out. That spring Nelson and MacKaye travel to England on Dischord business and record two songs with Loder; titling the project Egg Hunt after its Easter weekend session, the duo release a seven-inch that fall, marking MacKaye’s recorded debut on guitar and their last musical collaboration to date. (“Egg Hunt,” Putting DC on the Map, 54) While MacKaye is away, Embrace is supposed to practice for a tour but they don’t; after MacKaye confronts them about this, he quits and Embrace is finished. (Andersen and Jenkins, 206) Their self-titled debut isn’t released until September, 1987 but is considered a harbinger of “emo.” Tired of dysfunctional infighting, MacKaye resolves to work with like-minded musicians interested in affecting positive change. From his days in Minor Threat, he maintains a belief in the importance of all-ages shows, low ticket prices, and a disavowal of mainstream rock distractions such as drugs and alcohol. Inspired by activist initiatives in D.C. over the past few years, Dischord donates energy to local organizations, including No Business as Usual who demonstrate against Reagan’s Strategic Defense Initiative (a.k.a. “Star Wars”). (Andersen and Jenkins, 223) Similarly, MacKaye hopes his new band will be “militant” with their music, performing at as many thought-provoking benefits and free shows as possible. (Andersen and Jenkins, 232-233) That fall, he meets Joe Lally, a former metal fan and harDCore convert who roadied for Dischord band Beefeater that summer. The two hit it off, sharing a mutual interest in local metal band the Obsessed, the Stooges, James Brown, and Jamaican dub reggae. On September 24, they practice together with Dag Nasty drummer Colin Sears; MacKaye plays guitar, Lally bass. (Azerrad, 385)
1987
Though the trio gets closer to the reggae/funk rhythms and intense, driving guitar that MacKaye is striving for, he is unsure he can sing and play guitar at the same time. Sears leaves after a couple of months and the drummer’s seat is vacant. As his latest band (Happy Go Licky) with longtime friend and band mate Picciotto disintegrates, Canty begins to drop in on MacKaye and Lally in February, sitting in on drums on a “temporary basis” and the three practice relentlessly, honing an unusually intense sound that swings. That summer, MacKaye is approached to assist with State of the Union, a benefit compilation and concert for Positive Force, a Washington-based activist group working for social change and youth empowerment. Not only will Dischord help with the comp, MacKaye decides that his new band will be called Fugazi — Vietnam veteran’s slang for “a fucked up situation” — and will be ready to play its first show. With Canty in tow, that September Fugazi debut their first batch of songs (“Waiting Room,” “Furniture,” “Song #1,” “Turn Off Your Guns,” etc.) at the Wilson Center. Early Fugazi shows are open, inclusive celebrations, with hordes of people singing along, dancing non-violently on stage, and adding instrumentation. Picciotto is often present as a singer/dancer/roadie and is soon invited to join the band, which he resists initially out of respect for the trio’s tight chemistry. In the winter of 1987, MacKaye produces the Rollins Band’s Life Time in Leeds, England. While there, he meets industrial music pioneer Al Jourgensen of Ministry and the two collaborate together as Pailhead, releasing the electro-punk Trait EP on Chicago’s Wax Trax label. (Azerrad, 387)
Minor Threat - Embrace - Fugazi - The Evens
By Vish Khanna
January 31, 2007
When first approached about participating in this Timeline, Ian MacKaye politely declined. A pioneer of punk, hardcore, and independent music, MacKaye has fostered cultural change with the strength of his convictions, playing music on his own terms. Within his revolutionary work as an artist, MacKaye is a reluctant figurehead with no desire to perpetuate his own legend. “The thing you have to understand about me is I care but I don’t give a fuck,” he explains. “That’s just straight up. I really, really care about my work and the people I work with but ultimately, I don’t give a fuck. If you’d never called me and just wrote this story, I’d be like, ‘all right.’ Let me tell you something; I’ve had shit written about me that is so off base, so cruel, that if I cared, I wouldn’t be able to wake up and get out of bed. People are so uncharitable and so poor-minded with such dark aims; it becomes discouraging for me.”
In the end, MacKaye agreed to help ensure that this piece was as accurate as possible, separating facts from long-held fiction. It was a gracious move by a proactive artist interested more in his productive future than his accomplished past. “I reckon there’ll be a point in my life, perhaps, where there’ll be time to reflect on this sort of stuff but I would hope it would come after I feel that I’m finished doing things — so maybe it’ll never come.”
1962 to 1974
Ian MacKaye is born on April 16, 1962 in Washington D.C. to William R. and Mary Anne “Ginger” MacKaye. Both writers, Bill left the Seminary and later worked for the Washington Post for 20 years, including a stint as religion editor. Prior to this, Bill was a White House reporter and was in the motorcade when JFK was assassinated; most recently, he edited the crossword puzzle for the Washington Post Magazine. Ginger was a historical writer (“Ian MacKaye,” Dan Sinker, Punk Planet, #31, May/June 1999, p.41) and later became the unlikely matriarch of D.C. punk. Ian is one of five children and the MacKaye family is close. “When I didn’t go to school, my parents didn’t give me a hard time at all,” MacKaye later tells Punk Planet. “They were totally supportive. They knew that music was so important to me.” (Sinker, 41) MacKaye falls for the idealism and countercultural aspects of rock ‘n’ roll early, repeatedly watching Woodstock and listening to Jimi Hendrix. In 1974, Bill pursues a fellowship at Stanford University and the MacKayes live in Palo Alto, California for nine months.
1975 to 1976
At 13 years old, Ian returns to D.C. to discover his old friends drinking, smoking pot, and committing petty crimes; missing this transition, he is not impressed and abstains. (Our Band Could Be Your Life, by Michael Azerrad, p.120) A charismatic teen, MacKaye stuck out among a fledgling skateboarding posse of Woodrow Wilson High School renegades and neighbourhood kids such as Jeff Nelson and Henry Garfield. (Dance of Days, by Mark Andersen and Mark Jenkins, p.20-21)
1977 to 1978
MacKaye gravitates towards hard rock; at his first concert, he sees Queen and Thin Lizzy on the “Bohemian Rhapsody Tour” and they floor him. Soon after, he and Garfield attend a Ted Nugent show together, marvelling at his gonzo antics. Outspokenly anti-drugs, the Nuge in particular affects MacKaye and his fellow skaters for his intimidating virtuosity. Sensing that playing music is beyond him, the long-haired MacKaye sticks to skating. (Azerrad, 121) MacKaye’s interest in music resurfaces, however, after buying his first punk rock record (Sagittarius Bumpersticker) by a local father-and-son band called White Boy. The single’s homespun sound and look are a revelation. “That was my first inkling of an underground independent music thing,” MacKaye said. (Azzerad, 122) Older Wilson High kids like Nathan Strejcek adopt the British punk look and the skaters take notice. By 1978, Georgetown University radio station WGTB is a punk lifeline for MacKaye and company, who also make frequent trips to a nearby record store called Yesterday and Today, run by knowledgeable punk enthusiast Skip Groff. (Andersen and Jenkins, 23)
1979
On January 31, Georgetown University shuts down WGTB. Three days later, the frustration felt by MacKaye and other teens over the loss of the station manifests itself in a demonstration during the day and a rare all-ages concert that night at the Hall of Nations featuring New York’s the Cramps. Among the teenaged crowd, are four conspicuous black men, handing out flyers for an upcoming basement show by their brand new band, Bad Brains who will soon take D.C. by storm. A near-riot breaks out during the Cramps’ set, as singer Lux Interior taps into the crowd’s rage and chairs and windows are smashed. “At the time I thought Ted Nugent was really wild, so the Cramps show totally changed my life,” MacKaye recalled. “It was everything I thought rock ‘n’ roll should be. I was like, ‘This is it, I’m a punk rock motherfucker.’”(Andersen and Jenkins, 36) Weeks later, MacKaye and Nelson shave their heads and attend the Clash’s first D.C. show, stoking their desire to start a band. Though unfamiliar with their instruments, Nelson plays drums and MacKaye plays bass and they hook up with guitarist Geordie Grindle and singer Mark Sullivan to form the Slinkees. They learn covers (“Louie Louie”) and then write originals like the hippie-deriding “Deadhead,” “I Drink Milk,” and “Conservative Rock” among others. MacKaye later calls these “my first protest songs” (Andersen and Jenkins, 36) but the Slinkees play only one show before Sullivan goes off to college. He is replaced on vocals by Strejcek and, heavily influenced by Brit-punk and the speed and ethos of the proto-hardcore Bad Brains, the Teen Idles (with Garfield serving as an auxiliary member/roadie) emerge in December. (Andersen and Jenkins, 54)
1980
The Teen Idles’ punk look earns them undue attention from straight-laced jocks looking to fight. The band’s raw sound and youth-oriented lyrics inspire handles such as “Georgetown punks” (for the affluent neighbourhood where they hang out and work after-school) and the derisive “teeny-punk,” yet their ferocity is undeniable. The older Bad Brains guide them with their credo “Positive Mental Attitude” (PMA) after Strejcek’s parents’ basement serves as a practice space for both bands. The two share numerous gigs around D.C. and an early Teen Idles flyer promises “young fun new clean rock… no drugs.” (Andersen and Jenkins, 57) Less enamoured with Brit-punk, Georgetown punks soon look to west coast bands the Germs, Dead Kennedys, and Black Flag for inspiration and the Teen Idles crew take a bus to California for shows in August 1980. (Azerrad, 125) In San Francisco, they’re removed from a bill at the Mabuhay Gardens with Dead Kennedys, Circle Jerks, and Flipper, after the promoter decides they’re too young. They play a mismatched bill the next night instead but learn much from attending the DK show. The bar’s all-ages policy entails that underage kids have a black “X” marked on their hands so that bartenders know they’re not to be served alcohol. Circle Jerks fans also introduce slam dancing and fighting bouncers to the awestruck D.C. punks who are empowered by what they witness and bring it home with them. (Andersen and Jenkins, 66) While a demo session earlier in the year was abandoned, the Teen Idles talk about making a record; Skip Groff takes them seriously and produces a session for them at the Inner Ear home studio run by engineer Don Zientara. As completion of the eight songs winds down, the newly religious Grindle and atheist Nelson fall out, and the Teen Idles disintegrate. The record is shelved and, with MacKaye writing more songs that he wants to sing, he and Nelson resolve to start a new band. MacKaye sways Extorts singer Lyle Preslar to play guitar (the Extorts morph into State of Alert or S.O.A. with Garfield on vocals) and Brian Baker to play bass; the four practice new songs like “Straight Edge” even before the Teen Idles have finished. (Andersen and Jenkins, 70) The last Teen Idles show takes place in November at the new 9:30 Club, with management heeding the band’s wish to allow X-marked minors inside; X-marked hands eventually become the key signifier of straight edge punk. After the show, Nelson and MacKaye resolve that their new band will be called Minor Threat but, along with Groff, re-visit their old band’s recent recording session. Using the Teen Idles’ savings ($600), MacKaye, Nelson, and Strejcek press and self-assemble 1000 copies of the Idles’ Minor Disturbance E.P. seven-inch on their own label in December, which MacKaye dubs Dischord Records. (“The Teen Idles,” Putting DC on the Map, Dischord Records, p.16) Minor Threat play their first show at a house party opening up for Bad Brains in December and, miles ahead of the ramshackle Teen Idles, they floor everyone with their prowess and intensity with a sound soon dubbed “harDCore.”
1981
With fanzines and college radio supporting Minor Disturbance, Dischord fill orders from across the U.S. and MacKaye and Nelson resolve to put any profits into releasing records by emerging bands like Government Issue, Youth Brigade, and S.O.A. With Ronald Reagan’s inauguration fresh in the air, the Washington Post condemns the Georgetown punks for displays of anger, violence, and defiance of all authority. Minor Threat record their first demo with Zientara and Groff in February or March but return a month later to improve upon the songs. In March, MacKaye and others raise eyebrows with their slamdancing at a Black Flag show in New York; critic Robert Christgau describes them as “muscleheads from Washington” in a review. Dischord later flips the insult for its Flex Your Head compilation. (Andersen and Jenkins, 83/Azerrad, 133) Black Flag are impressed by the antics and a year later audition Garfield to be their lead singer; excited for a fresh start in L.A., he’s accepted and changes his name to Henry Rollins. In June, Minor Threat’s self-titled, eight-song debut is released and its impact is immediate. Combining airtight musicianship, unbridled rage, and tunefulness, songs like “Filler,” “Screaming at a Wall,” and “Straight Edge” reveal MacKaye’s talents as a lyricist and lead singer, and his righteousness and moral stance is equally emulated and derided. Much to MacKaye’s surprise, “straight edge” soon blossoms into a philosophical lifestyle of abstinence from casual sex, drugs, and alcohol. When a 10-date tour with Youth Brigade in August goes awry, Preslar opts to attend Northwestern University that fall and Minor Threat disbands. Before they split, they record a second EP, In My Eyes, featuring the controversial “straight edge” anthem “Out of Step” and MacKaye’s self-conscious chronicle of living in a predominantly black community, “Guilty of Being White,” which is misinterpreted as a white pride song. (On their 1996 album Undisputed Attitude, the metal band Slayer cover the song, and alter one chorus to “guilty of being right.”) Fearing that MacKaye doesn’t enunciate the “I” before the “don’t drink, don’t smoke, don’t fuck, etc.” lyric on “Out of Step,” the song causes tension within the band, as other members (who occasionally smoke pot and drink) view MacKaye’s lyrics as dogmatic, while he believes its message is subjective and clearly positions him as a self-reflexive writer. Nevertheless, the band will later re-record the song complete with an explanatory rap by MacKaye and a revised lyric sheet accompanies its release. With Preslar gone, MacKaye and Nelson team up with guitarist Eddie Janney and bassist John Falls and form the short-lived Skewbald/Grand Union; MacKaye and Nelson cannot compromise on the name so they use both. (“Skewbald/Grand Union,” Putting DC on the Map, 36) In October, feature film star and former Saturday Night Live player John Belushi agrees to make a cameo appearance on his old show if producer Lorne Michaels allows L.A. punks Fear to perform on an episode. Procuring his number from mutual acquaintance Penelope Spheeris (director of the punk documentary The Decline of Western Civilization and later Wayne’s World), Michaels and Belushi call MacKaye’s home early one morning and ask him to assemble D.C. punks to slam dance on the air. MacKaye complies and, despite a raucous rehearsal in which a small piece of plastic is damaged on one of the television cameras, the punks appear on the broadcast. Deeming the dancers too unruly, producers cut to commercial early; afterwards, SNL lock the punks in a room for two hours and threaten to sue for the damages to the camera. (“Nardwuar vs. Ian MacKaye,” Doot Doola Doot Doo…Doot Doo, Mint Records, 2006) Strejcek reluctantly withdraws from the label’s operations, particularly after MacKaye and Nelson find an Arlington-area home they soon dub “Dischord House.” (Andersen and Jenkins, 98) The two keep straight-jobs to maintain the label’s operations and pay the bills, with MacKaye at one point juggling shifts at an ice cream parlour, a movie theatre, and as a newspaper delivery driver. (Azerrad, 143) After its December release, In My Eyes brings Minor Threat posthumous national attention and hardcore scenes sprout up across the land.
1982
MacKaye believes the band still has fans to reach and, when Preslar drops out of school, Minor Threat re-form in April, 1982. Facing a backlash for reuniting from a once close-knit D.C. community, MacKaye pens the sarcastic “Cashing In” before the band embark on their first national tour. Though questions about “straight edge” hound him, MacKaye is excited by the bands and audiences he encounters. To MacKaye’s chagrin, Baker insists on switching from bass to guitar that fall and recruits Steve Hansgen to play bass instead. The new Minor Threat play few shows that winter but they are filmed for the documentary Another State of Mind and they open for PiL; much to MacKaye’s disappointment, his hero John Lydon arrives by limousine after Minor Threat’s set.
1983 to 1984
In January, recording for Out of Step commences with lyrics pondering disintegrating relationships and fractious hardcore purism; upon its March release, the EP sells 3,500 copies in one week. Dischord develops an important business relationship with John Loder’s Southern Records, which manufactures and distributes Dischord’s catalogue in Europe. That spring, Minor Threat play 33 shows in 49 days across the U.S. and Canada and band tensions boil over. (Azerrad, 147) With the band paid minimally for shows, MacKaye is frugal on the road, which frustrates his band mates; their arguments about money on tour lead MacKaye to proclaim that their vehicle is “the van of hell.” (Andersen and Jenkins, 140) Baker and Preslar grow increasingly frustrated with the interactive nature of Minor Threat shows, with fans crashing the stage (and knocking their guitars out of tune) to sing along and dance; conversely, this openness means the world to MacKaye. Hansgen isn’t gelling with the band and on their return to D.C., he is dispatched and Baker is back on bass. To MacKaye’s dismay, the instrumentalists in Minor Threat fall in love with U2’s War, and emulate its sound. Unable and unwilling to sing over such melodic songs, MacKaye begins skipping practices; the ones he does attend turn into prolonged screaming matches and he soon withdraws completely. Weeks after what ends up being their final show on September 23, a band meeting is called and, sensing their commercial opportunities, Preslar and Baker make demands for stage risers and more say in money matters. (Andersen and Jenkins, 148) MacKaye realizes that the band is irreversibly divided and Minor Threat is finished for good; he acquiesces to Nelson’s pleas to record their final three songs and the Salad Days seven-inch is posthumously released in 1985. Overcoming severe depression after Minor Threat dissolved and dealing with Dischord’s mounting debts, MacKaye spends part of 1984 working at Groff’s record store. He focuses on documenting the shifting D.C. music scene and produces young bands, including the explosive Rites of Spring, which features guitarist Guy Picciotto and drummer Brendan Canty.
1985
A year and a half after disbanding Minor Threat, MacKaye and Nelson figure it’s time to start a new band together but discover that lingering Minor Threat frustrations exist; after brief get-togethers, they each resolve to work with other musicians. (“Embrace,” Putting DC on the Map, 50) MacKaye hooks up with guitarist Michael Hampton, bassist Chris Bald, and drummer Ivor Hanson. Ironically, these three went through an acrimonious split as Faith, a band fronted by Ian’s brother Alec. (“Embrace,” Putting DC on the Map, 50) Bald christens the band Embrace and their July debut during Washington’s spiritual “Revolution Summer” features an emotionally pent-up MacKaye bellowing over a startlingly moody soundtrack of melodious bass and edgy, atmospheric guitar. (Andersen and Jenkins, 183) Embrace lack the speed of MacKaye’s previous bands but contain a hauntingly stark intensity. The D.C. punk scene is in flux and shows attract ultra-violent skinhead gangs (dubbed “Rambo punks”) that co-opt the empowering, collective release of slam dancing and stage-diving; concerts erupt in riots, vandalism, and serious injuries and stabbings are reported. (Andersen and Jenkins, 171-172) By their second show, Embrace are handing out lyric sheets to audience members and, along with Rites of Spring, discouraging slam dancing skinheads at their shows, championing respect for one another instead (Andersen and Jenkins, 193) Embrace enter an upgraded Inner Ear near the end of 1985 and again in February of 1986 and record 14 songs.
1986
MacKaye’s emergent political lyrics and Embrace’s sound challenges fans and the skate-mag Thrasher dubs it “emo-core.” Though it is eventually shortened and accepted as “emo,” MacKaye calls it “the stupidest fucking thing I’ve ever heard in my entire life” on-stage at the 9:30 Club in March. (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=mbdh0Qm_5A0) Alas, this proves to be Embrace’s final show, as Bald and Hampton, who frequently butt heads in their friendship, experience a serious falling out. That spring Nelson and MacKaye travel to England on Dischord business and record two songs with Loder; titling the project Egg Hunt after its Easter weekend session, the duo release a seven-inch that fall, marking MacKaye’s recorded debut on guitar and their last musical collaboration to date. (“Egg Hunt,” Putting DC on the Map, 54) While MacKaye is away, Embrace is supposed to practice for a tour but they don’t; after MacKaye confronts them about this, he quits and Embrace is finished. (Andersen and Jenkins, 206) Their self-titled debut isn’t released until September, 1987 but is considered a harbinger of “emo.” Tired of dysfunctional infighting, MacKaye resolves to work with like-minded musicians interested in affecting positive change. From his days in Minor Threat, he maintains a belief in the importance of all-ages shows, low ticket prices, and a disavowal of mainstream rock distractions such as drugs and alcohol. Inspired by activist initiatives in D.C. over the past few years, Dischord donates energy to local organizations, including No Business as Usual who demonstrate against Reagan’s Strategic Defense Initiative (a.k.a. “Star Wars”). (Andersen and Jenkins, 223) Similarly, MacKaye hopes his new band will be “militant” with their music, performing at as many thought-provoking benefits and free shows as possible. (Andersen and Jenkins, 232-233) That fall, he meets Joe Lally, a former metal fan and harDCore convert who roadied for Dischord band Beefeater that summer. The two hit it off, sharing a mutual interest in local metal band the Obsessed, the Stooges, James Brown, and Jamaican dub reggae. On September 24, they practice together with Dag Nasty drummer Colin Sears; MacKaye plays guitar, Lally bass. (Azerrad, 385)
1987
Though the trio gets closer to the reggae/funk rhythms and intense, driving guitar that MacKaye is striving for, he is unsure he can sing and play guitar at the same time. Sears leaves after a couple of months and the drummer’s seat is vacant. As his latest band (Happy Go Licky) with longtime friend and band mate Picciotto disintegrates, Canty begins to drop in on MacKaye and Lally in February, sitting in on drums on a “temporary basis” and the three practice relentlessly, honing an unusually intense sound that swings. That summer, MacKaye is approached to assist with State of the Union, a benefit compilation and concert for Positive Force, a Washington-based activist group working for social change and youth empowerment. Not only will Dischord help with the comp, MacKaye decides that his new band will be called Fugazi — Vietnam veteran’s slang for “a fucked up situation” — and will be ready to play its first show. With Canty in tow, that September Fugazi debut their first batch of songs (“Waiting Room,” “Furniture,” “Song #1,” “Turn Off Your Guns,” etc.) at the Wilson Center. Early Fugazi shows are open, inclusive celebrations, with hordes of people singing along, dancing non-violently on stage, and adding instrumentation. Picciotto is often present as a singer/dancer/roadie and is soon invited to join the band, which he resists initially out of respect for the trio’s tight chemistry. In the winter of 1987, MacKaye produces the Rollins Band’s Life Time in Leeds, England. While there, he meets industrial music pioneer Al Jourgensen of Ministry and the two collaborate together as Pailhead, releasing the electro-punk Trait EP on Chicago’s Wax Trax label. (Azerrad, 387)