I tried. I did. I wanted to be excited for the release of Minor Threat's first demo, recently unearthed after being buried alive in the dank recesses of Dischord's vault. I listened to it at volume levels that made my brain beg my volume-hand for mercy. I threw myself against the walls, broke my furniture, and got into fistfights with cops that I called over myself. I got drunk and tried being ashamed to the tune of "Straight Edge", to no avail. "Golly, it's really hard to be excited over this semi-historic EP," I discovered.
First, before anybody gets their suspenders in a knot, I'm not implying that hardcore fans are self-destructive louts (just me) and I'm not demeaning a straight-edge lifestyle-- I generally prefer to stay sober so I can know when I'm having a good time rather than relying on the recollective ability of my associates. By taking the time to explain this, do I secretly think that a lot of hardcore fans take themselves too seriously? Uh... No comment.
But let me be serious about one thing, and do not let this album's silly numbers overhead fool you for even a second: Minor Threat may be the single most important band in the history of hardcore. Although they lacked a fraction of the Bad Brains' soul-core musicianship, their riff-heavy attack was sharper, leaner, and at least as meaningful to the D.C. hardcore sound they helped forge; innovative enough to separate themselves from the heavier SoCal sound made famous, coincidentally, by their good friend Henry Rollins' Black Flag and scores of imitators. And after claiming a sizeable plot of music history for their band before they were even old enough to drink (not that they wanted to), MacKaye and Nelson's Dischord label continued on to virtually pioneer D.I.Y. ethics and aesthetics raising a torch to light the way, in case anyone was brave enough to follow.
Again: they're maybe the most important band in hardcore-dom, and maybe it's not even a "maybe." They took themselves seriously, too, and for good reason, but to many, Minor Threat is still shallowly criticized for the too-grim public demeanor sometimes cultivated by MacKaye and his old bandmates. So those "jokes" earlier? I was just trying to break the ice; apparently, the estimable Mr. MacKaye has the same thing in mind, including some priceless photos from the recording sessions held in the playroom in Don Zientara's basement (aka Inner Ear Studios) along with the as-yet-undiscussed demo tape. As Fugazi's Instrument documentary pointed out, a band that champions meaningful ideals ought to treat them publicly with the gravity they deserve, but behind closed doors, they're occasionally known to almost smile for seconds at a time. That, at least, hasn't changed, as these ancient photos of an eighteen-year old Ian MacKaye giving a trollish scowl while wearing plastic ears and Bozo the Clown's hairpiece or Henry Rollins bashfully modeling a makeshift adult diaper will readily document.
Whether due to simply romanticizing the past, or because of the obvious conviction behind Minor Threat's socio-political diatribes, it's awfully easy to forget that Minor Threat was also a group of teenagers having fun trying to (maybe not even naively) make a difference by doing something that mattered to them, and that's as awesome now as it was 22 years ago. A few photos really help put that into perspective. But those photos are the best thing about this demo.
Not that the songs are at fault-- every last jagged burst of outrage against alcoholism, racism, and thoughtless violence just for the sake of proving nothing at all in "Straight Edge", "Guilty of Being White", and "Small Man, Big Mouth" rings with as much immediacy as it ever has. These are the very same songs that have meant so much to impressionable, dissatisfied young people, inspiring them to look for more in the world, maybe emblazon the tell-tale X's on the backs of their hands, not just in 1981, but every year since. Unfortunately, anything included here can be found on the much better and, as the name implies, more complete Complete Discography, almost to the note, which means even completists have little to gain.
