Sunday, July 22, 2007

The Battle For Punk, Episode 23: The Posers Strike Back
"Green Day, My Chemical Romance, Good Charlotte and Bad Religion are among the bands starring in the documentary, ‘Punk’s Not Dead’, which hits US theaters
this week.The movie is an excersice[sic] of the evolution of punk music featuring
tons of talks with important punk musicians as well as rare performance footage."

So the downfall of a genre is being challenged by its post-mortem excrement? The mere existence of My Chemical Romance is proof enough that punk is, without question, dead.

I had a brief chat with Beef (who's visiting these arid northlands with Erin) today about punk and its origins. We agreed that punk was originally a product of New York, and I asserted my belief that the first punks were the Velvet Underground. But no matter whether you place Punk's zenith at its NYC, UK, or LA era, you must concede that it died shortly thereafter. The 80's brought in the mainstream support, New Wave took over the look, and all the best punks went to prison, rehab, or hell. The emergence of Pop-punk bands allowed a brief glimpse at what had been, but it was fueled on the blissful ignorance that comes with a sheeplike devotion to whatever the radio is pushing. Sure, Blink-182 was kinda edgy when you think about it, but real punks would have had to push the nudity and swearing to a level that was actually unacceptable to their label execs, as opposed to the gimmicky levels they sported instead. And there's really no way for anyone to be a real punk today. There's no overwhelming cold war dread, no Vietnam, and wearing a facial piercing was a statement. You couldn't put a streak of pink in your hair without immediate ostracizing from normal society. Now, you can. It's lost all meaning. The only way to really push people's boundaries is to look gross, and even then the message is lost.

At this point, everything of Punk that remains is actually Pop-Punk. Which, for all intents and purposes, sucks.

Okay, there ARE still London-style punk bands, but they suck and just sound like canned versions of what used to be a pretty good thing. OR.. they're G.G. Allin, who also fucking sucked.

Point is, there's only one thing lamer than proclaiming the death of a genre (fuck you Nas), and that's denying the death of a genre. And then using Good Charlotte as your exemplar.

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