In the real world, most folks don't know that I write here.
They know me as a low-level bureaucrat, a mental health peer leader, a wiseacre, an aging hipster. But they don't know that every few days for the past five years, I talk a little bit about a recording that means something to me. Sometimes, it's something I just picked up recently; others, it's a record that's foundational to the person I've become. I just wanted to find some meaning, to have a discpline, when the world was falling apart because of COVID-19, when I had been laid off from my first minimum-wage job since I was 18 and I had no fucking clue what was going to happen to my life.
I knew I could share some jams. So I did. And here we are, 600 posts in, with no desire to break the discipline.
Fugazi was, for me, the band that kicked it all off for me. I liked music well enough before I learned of Fugazi in 1992. It was, after all, the year after Punk broke, and I was exposed not just to Nirvana and Pearl Jam and Soundgarden, but also Sonic Youth and Shonen Knife and Smashing Pumpkins. But I was still more into hip-hop than college rock then; I had to sneak my Public Enemy, N.W.A., and KRS-One tapes into the farmhouse my dad bought in moonshine country. There was an authenticity present in rap music that I didn't quite feel in rock. So when I read a Michael Azzerad review of a Fugazi show at Irving Plaza in a June issue of Rolling Stone, there was something about it that felt not dangerous, but very real. I mean, whqt band comes out of Washington D.C. and releases their own records AND keeps door prices at $5? That's something I can experience, I thought.
I went out and bought a copy of "Steady Diet Of Nothing" a few weeks later. And even though it's now my least-favorite Fugazi recording, Christ, it hit me like a lightning bolt. THIS was what I was looking for. Even though I didn't think I'd be able to play music like this, I could still participate. I wasn't going to be a hundred yards from the stage, or 200 miles away from the nearest show, or $20 short of buying their newest CD. Shoot, I could write them a letter and send well-disguised cash, and a month or so later, I'd get a personal response FROM THE SINGER and a new record to listen to.
Dischord's always been really good about keeping their catalog in print, especially with their digital archive on dischord.com. And because one of my goals has been to focus on out-of-print or not-readily-available music, that's kept me what diving into one of their numerous blog-worthy records. I don't need to post "Flex Your Head" or "State Of The Nation"; just go buy it from them. But this thirteenth issue of Perpetually Twelve, one of numerous great, defunct zines, seemed like a good one to share for post 600, and an excellent excuse to talk about Fugazi. This is a wonderful digital release, ready made to print out at home or work and read, old-school style. Or you can load the PDF into your digital reader on your phone or tablet and experience 78 pages of Fugazi love electronically.
The accompanying compilation suits the zine well. There's Bob Nanna delivering a solo version of "Kill Taker"s "Smallpox Champion". .org-core punks White Murder, who delivered a pair of outstanding full-lengths back in the 2010s for Recess, cover "Nice New Outfit" from "Steady Diet". San Diego is well represented by No Knife, Andrew Mills of Barbarian, and Brandon Welchez. It's all capped with an amazing version of "The Argument", performed by DC's Devin Ocampo (Smart Went Crazy, Faraquet), spouse Renata Ocampo, David Rich (the Effects), and bassoonist Aaron Harmon. It's a worthy labor of love that deserves an ongoing audience. Which I'm happy to provide.
I'm grateful for y'all who visit here, whether it's once in a blue moon or every three or four days. Thanks for coming by and providing an audience of around 150 folks a day. Happy Boxing Day; now open your presents.
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