Bad Brains + Monotonix - Roseland Theater (MFNW 2009; Sept. 18)

text: Jarrod Dunham / photos: Bill Eckerson (bad brains 1-5 + monotonix 6-12 + pos 13)

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What’s an old punk to do? In the early 80’s, Bad Brains were making a name for themselves with notoriously high-energy performances and the stereotype-busting juxtaposition of furious punk rock spliced with gorgeous and soulful reggae tunes on a legendary cassette-only release. And if the Rastafari community hasn’t exactly beaten a path to hardcore music’s front door since then, the Brains nevertheless deserve props for shaping the genre in the early days of American punk rock. Which brings us back to the original question: what’s an old punk to do? Three decades on, punk is well established—even borderline mainstream—and H.R. and company, all in or near their 50’s, show signs of having mellowed with age and wisdom.

None of which detracted from the enthusiasm at Friday night’s MusicfestNW gig at the Roseland Theater. Following opening sets by Bellingham natives Black Eyes and Neckties, in the midst of a farewell tour, and hip-hop iconoclast P.O.S., Tel Aviv natives Monotonix took the stage—metaphorically, anyway. How to describe Monotonix? Imagine a 3am house party in Steve-O’s basement and you might come close. For Bad Brains, though, they were quite simply a nightmare to follow. Setting up their equipment in the middle of the floor, the band announced themselves with a frantic drum beat and a shower of bottled water from singer Ami Shalev, and the antics only developed from there. In a 30-minute set that was 90 parts spectacle to 10 parts performance, the Israelis worked the mostly underage crowd into a frenzy both reminiscent of, and entirely foreign to, the scenes that made DC legends of Bad Brains thirty years ago.

With fans overflowing into the band’s tiny section of floor space, Shalev climbed up onto the raised arms all around him and floated across the crowd, mic in hand, performing for the mass of sweaty bodies beneath him. Undeterred by an initial failed attempt at climbing a pillar, Shalev made his way to another, successfully mounting it at the expense of his skimpy red shorts. With ass ingloriously exposed, he proceeded to molest the pillar, not missing a note in the process. Indeed, the frenetic singer was impressively on his game all night, only wavering once, when the bass drum he was perched on, held aloft by a handful of brave souls, briefly dipped, threatening to pitch him to the floor.

The frenzied Monotonix set left a path of fatigue and exhaustion in its wake, surely a bad omen for the headliners. Fortunately, given a decent reprieve for sound check, the crowd managed to rally, and greeted the Brains with a healthy roar. And while it would have been understandable, even acceptable, given their age, for the band to emphasize the mellower side of their catalogue, they opted instead to rise to the challenge, opening with the punk anthem “Attitude.” The crowd responded, and to watch the roil of bodies on the floor, you’d never know that the stage was occupied by weary, seemingly disinterested band of fifty-somethings. Yet that is exactly what they were. H.R., in slacks, sport coat, and white tennis shoes, stood motionless, one hand in his pants pocket, belting out “Attitude” but looking for all the world like a Rastafarian incarnation of Pat Boone. Dr. Know, who at least played with passion, was nevertheless not particularly engaging, while bassist Darryl Jenifer confined himself to the anonymity provided by the shadows at the back of the stage.

Compounding matters was the terrible sound quality, which had not been apparent in the earlier sets. Excruciating feedback introduced itself early on, occasionally prompting H.R. to look at the ceiling in bewilderment. On many of the punk songs, vocals were entirely indistinguishable, and reverberation from the bass frequently drowned out any other sound. This isn’t to say that everybody didn’t have a great time, though. Throughout the evening, the energy from the crowd never lapsed, though the tempo certainly slowed during a 10-minute rendition of “I and I Survive,” a genuine highlight of the set by any measure. 

For a little more than an hour, Bad Brains, looking old and tired, nevertheless managed to hold up their end of the bargain, somehow maintaining a level of energy in the audience that they couldn’t summon in themselves. Indeed, the reception to their performance was so strong that, after the band had left the stage, the crowd made an exceptional show of demanding an encore, so much so that the lights operator was reluctant for some time to turn on the houselights for fear that the Brains might actually come back on. Alas, they’d exhausted their set, and the crowd reluctantly dispersed, sweaty, exhausted, and entirely satisfied.

So what is an old punk to do? Resting on one’s laurels has never been a part of the punk rock ethic, and in their recordings, Bad Brains have certainly eschewed any such notion. But in a Roseland Theater packed with fans eager to see these giants of punk in action, that is exactly what they did. Thirty years on, Sid Vicious and Joe Strummer are dead, Johnny Rotten is John Lydon again, and kids with fauxhawks are playing an innocuous brand of radio-friendly punk on MTV. All of which is to say, if old punks want to rest on their laurels, if “Attitude” and “Pay to Cum” still sound as fresh and aggressive as they did in 1983—and they do—then who’s to stop them? Though Friday night’s show lacked some of the raw emotion that was so compelling in the Brains’ heyday, the audience at the Roseland got exactly what they asked for: a punk band that is still relevant playing powerful music. The fact that nothing else mattered can only be a testament to the lasting significance of Bad Brains and the genre they helped define. 

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Bad Brains review to your liking? You'll sweat:

1 comments thus far ...

  1. 1Danny Fri Sep 25, 2009 | 04:20 pm

    Killer photos! Great review too.

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