Hypunkracy!

Originally published in the Lamron (9/13/07)

There once was a time when the biggest punk band in the world could put out a record with influences in reggae, blues, and Chuck Berry and it would be looked upon as the greatest punk rock album of all time.

It’s been a long time since the Clash released their legendary album London Calling, and even longer in terms of musical evolution (or de-evolution) since then. But 28 years is only a generation’s length; have Joe Strummer and Mick Jones taught their children so poorly?

In short, what passes today as punk rock bares little to no resemblance to the origin of the twisted genre, hard rock’s uglier, bitterer younger brother. In fact, in all this time, it has more closely come to personify that which punk music so deftly fought against: the homogeny and standardization of popular culture, particularly in America. If the high school hard rockers were the ones spiking the juice at prom and scalping Deep Purple tickets, the punks were setting fires and starting riots. But what we have now are lots of eye-liner and cracked, semi-pubescent voices singing laments about lost loved ones.

In a way, early punk rock wasn’t too different in its ideals than the hippy movement. Both focused on individuality and rebellion from the common standard. But unlike the hippies, punks were intent on actually accomplishing something. The genre was more of an attitude than a style, so fringe artists like Iggy Pop or Television could appropriately fall under the category. That hierarchy has flip-flopped, though. If a dejected teen dresses in black and silver chains because he gets made fun of by the polo-wearing Hollister regulars at school, than Mr. Hollister would feel equally uncomfortable and rejected had he stumbled into a Misfits concert, say. What began as a melting pot of styles and personalities has now focused into a neat, tidy little clique no better or worse than the collar poppers.

The biggest problem is what’s on the horizon. Who are the young artists to save punk music (some say it’s already dead) from complete and utter assimilation? Heavy metal has Mastodon, the blues have Jack White and John Mayer, but punk, worse than any other offshoot of rock, is in desperate need of a miracle worker. If global unrest is the key ingredient in honest, raw punk, than the landscape is fertile. To whoever plants the first tree: there’s a lot of us waiting.