my careless contagion

Nothing fascinated me musically as much as the band Bad Religion. I used to spend so much time researching the band and its members, even talking to Jay Bentley on internet relay chat (IRC), #badreligion on undernet. The fascination really took hold when I was in college. I was bored, technologically inclined, and a wee bit malcontent.  No band is as misunderstood as Bad Religion, and some fans like it that way. It's a barrier to the band becoming massively popular (they are more popular outside the U.S.), but it also makes you feel like you're in on the joke. Others don't understand. That's the reason hardcore and punk rock were important to a lot of people. It was a way of excluding those who excluded them from society. When our bands became too popular (a subjective thought if there ever was), we called them poseurs and fled to other, lesser-known bands. Gotta keep it real. But I was always into Bad Religion and remained a fan (even though I didn't share their po...

In my world, this song always existed. Indeed, it was released in 1977, the year I was born. It was covered numerous times, including by NOFX (about two minutes in length, complete with the expected punk-rock irreverence, and with some vocals by Bad Religion's Greg Graffin). It's a good song and robust, having survived several decades. I guess I could say some of the same about myself since we're the same age. It's one of those songs that builds momentum. It starts fairly quiet and slow but eventually takes off like a jet plane. It has a fairly fast tempo for a classic rock song. The song has so much momentum, it simply fades out at the end, which is the easiest way to end a song like this. The cover art is curious, especially if your eyes are drawn to the dangly bits of the man's outfit. I wonder whose idea that was.  The vocals are perfect. I don't even know how he does some parts. The yelping inflection on "go" and "your" gets me every ti...

Into the Unknown was released in 1983 as the band's second album. After a few seconds of listening, you'll notice something is wrong. This isn't the Bad Religion everyone knows. This album, which was seemingly recorded in one key, killed the band. Greg Hetson convinced the principal members to reunite and give it another go a few years after this album bombed. The band even took back all the copies. Even copies people made of the record. It was that embarrassing. No doubt all of those were trashed.  Why am I posting a full album of a doomed record? There is a lesson here. Listen to everything Bad Religion did after this and it's fairly cohesive. There isn't a lot of experimentation. This album taught the band that the audience dictates what a band plays. Even in punk rock where you can seemingly get away with anything. Hardcore music has rigorous standards, believe it or not.  No one has to listen to this. I have my own favorite songs. I think it's a fun album. ...

Perhaps I've neglected this topic. I am getting quite old and with over 550 posts in the bag, I may have forgotten I've already written this. Pardon me. Nod and smile and pretend you're hearing it for the first time. That's me in the photo. I was still in high school, so 1996 or before is my only guess as to the date. I wore a hat emblazoned with South Dakota State University (where I later took online courses). I had that coat up until recently when I finally threw it out before moving back to Nebraska. (Almost eight months now since I moved back, whoa.) The board, covered in snow, was sold a long time ago. I figure this was taken in Colorado. I have no recollection where exactly. Still have the cheesy, crooked grin. Can't help it; that's what God gave me.  When I was in elementary school, on a school trip to Terry Peak in the Black Hills, I learned how to ski. I skied for many years. I became bored with the two-plank setup and decided to try one plank in high ...

When I moved back to Nebraska last year, and specifically this town, I knew I'd have to write this post. It's part of my retrospective, which I've largely abandoned, as I don't need to look back anymore. But, I felt this needed to be said. From time to time, we need to remind ourselves how far we've come and what great things God has done for us.  I bought Bad Religion's album All Ages (released summer of 1995) in 1995 or 96. All Ages, named thusly because Bad Religion shows (typical of punk rock) were open to all ages as well as the fact the album captured all the years of the band, was kind of a weird concept because it was a greatest-hits album released fairly early in its career. But, it gave me an overview of the band's work and their unusual (to me, at the time) sound. I bought the album on cassette from a music store in the mall of the town I now live in. I recall driving home and being like, "What is this?" I had never even considered a ban...

Recent events reminded me of this song by Bad Religion. Leave Mine to Me was released in 1994 on the album Stranger Than Fiction. A lot of things changed since then. Maybe you've noticed. But Bad Religion's songs have an uncanny ability to predict the future. A line of the song stuck out to me: "You create your own reality, and leave mine to me." What does that have to do with recent events? And what does that have to do with me?  Facebook recently changed its corporate name to Meta to "reflect its growing focus on the metaverse." The metaverse is something that doesn't even exist in everyday reality. So what's the big deal? It's a bunch of virtual worlds. If people didn't already live in their own little bubbles, they will soon. Why? Because reality sucks, as the song points out. If you want to escape reality and make your own virtual reality, that's an option. Many people already do with their online presence. They've tuned out the ...

I don't know when I first started listening to punk rock. Sometime during high school. It is such an expansive genre. My preference was hardcore, notably melodic hardcore. I was drawn to Bad Religion because they were unique and intelligent but also listened to Nitro bands like Guttermouth and AFI. I knew all the Fat Wreck Chords bands. Greatly appreciated Gorilla Biscuits and, later, CIV. I loved Fugazi (I think they were my first show; tickets were $5 plus a Ticketmaster service charge of $1). Later, I got into Social Distortion, Face to Face, Samiam, and others too numerous to list. I had tapes. I had CDs. I had vinyl. Gigabytes of mp3s. Rare stuff, covers, bootlegs, live shows, stuff that was never released anywhere but Japan (why always Japan?). I recall seeing Sick of It All open for AFI and was more impressed with the opening band (even though I wanted to see AFI for about 15 years at that point). I was ready to go home after that. It was ridiculously good. I saw a ton of He...

Bad Religion's album No Substance was released about this time in 1998. The album was followed by a tour similar to how the band started: small venues with lots of young kids packed in. They said they wanted a more intimate experience like the old days. I saw Bad Religion that year at the Blind Pig in Ann Arbor, Michigan. I recall the band hanging out in the bar afterward, watching hockey and talking to fans. I'd say the band got the intimacy they desired. And I got to see a show I still remember even at the hoary age of 43.  I also recall feeling strangely old, wistful, and, frankly, sad before and after watching the band. Okay, watching isn't exactly the right word. You have to be an active participant at a Bad Religion show. You don't simply watch them play. You sing along. You mosh if you want (I was, perhaps, one body away from the band at this show). But you don't idly watch a punk rock show. You get thrown around. It's youthful fun.  Living in Bowling Gre...