Still Angry After All These Years

Indie rock hipsters get a lot of (well deserved) flack for being incredibly self serious and way too into their hermetically sealed little world that 98% of the population could not possibly care less about but they've got nothing on the hardcore scene of the early eighties. Mothra and Quinnothra joined us for a viewing of "American Hardcore" the other night and I was shocked at how 20 years on, the interviewees had still not given up their adolescent anger at the classism and banal music of the Reagan era. In some ways, I respect them for wholeheartedly sticking to their guns but I also find it a bit depressing watching grown men and women still angrily spitting about how they don't care what the mainstream of American culture does. I guess it's the holier than thou, snobbish attitude about it all that makes me sad. You don't like Miley Cyrus' banging new single, fine, your loss, but nobody is saying you have to. Just hate it and move on already. Some of these people just need to let go. Unfortunately, even with fascinating and well spoken people like Ian Mackaye and Dave Dictor in the film, the ratio of level headed, interesting people to total jerks and meatheads was heavily weighed down by the latter. For a public speaker, Henry Rollins really should be able to tell a better story than the snoozefests he laid upon the audience in this movie. Unforgivable.

The footage was grainy and audibly atrocious and they wonderfully captured the feeling of the era and the way the underground scene of the early eighties paved the roads for the alternative brats of the nineties but I felt that Michael Azzerad's book "Our Band Could Be Your Life" made the case in a more inclusive, interesting manner. I came away from the film feeling that the hardcore scene was incredibly inspiring to a large swath of youth across the nation but had no choice but to burn out quickly. After 90 minutes of hearing the same song over and over again I had had my fill of angry kids shouting into bad PAs; I can't imagine suffering through 6 years of it. The energy and passion are certainly engaging but I guess I crave more than fast songs where the majority of the lyrics are simply the titles of songs screamed over and over and over again. Many of the talking heads in the film seemed to be saying the hardcore scene was insanely influential and important because they said it was. There was very little proof to back it up. Since most bands flamed out after barely scratching out an ep or two, evolution was not a part of the equation. The hardcore world was simply a succession of very short lived variations on a theme and if you aren't a big fan of that theme to start with, you should probably bring a book as Hott Mama did to carry you through the second half of the film. It is a mostly interesting movie but I left it feeling supersaturated with hardcore and longing for the less serious and more exciting sing along punk of the late seventies.