He has simply been here so long it seems he has always been here doing what he does. At this point already, the unbroken length and quality of his career is almost without precedent in American music. He is an icon, yet many people will still be shocked at the depth and profundity of his body of work.
Someday, when the world finally loses Willie Nelson, there will be an eruption of sadness. If only we could just get everyone to listen. It’s great to know that the bands that still ply their trade in this craft are damn good at what they do. Wrapped in the kind of rock n’ roll buoyancy and melodic aesthetic that made The Lawrence Arms and No Use for a Name recognized figures of the genre, The Speakeasy is both accessible and urgent, music with meaning and an ample conscience. Even when they veer towards more frenetic alternative rock territory (in the very end-of-career Crime in Stereo sounding “Porch Wine”) they do so while maintaining their collective purpose (in this case, facing mortality). And he does so with some wry humour, intellect and the very basis of what punk rock should be about asking the questions no one else feels compelled to ask. It isn’t all about the follies of politics, vocalist Joe McMahon spends a lot of time writing introspection questioning morality (“Monsters Among Us”), suicide (“Shotgun”), the dissolution of the punk rock scene (“Hope And Anchor”) and moving to Mexico (“Expatriate”). Who else would release a song about the declining American media (“Integrity”) or a folk-punk ditty about the terrible mistake that is the war (“Honey I Was Right About The War)” without worrying about the consequences? Fat Mike is like a bullhorn- for his own politics and that of his bands. The Speakeasy gets it due partly because the label, Fat Wreck, is no stranger to the airing of dissenting views. Boston-by-way-of-Richmond band Smoke or Fire are one such outfit wading through the mess of pop punk poster boys, emo heartthrobs and mohawked poseurs to deliver an aptly profound statement of our current time.
Yet they do it, hundreds of them across the globe forsaking widespread recognition for something with a bit of meaning. It all seems like an endless slog through the commercial pig trough of the transparent. Being in a punk rock band in 2010 is a thankless job.
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