Gang of Four - Unbelievable

As many here might have noticed, I am not reknowned for being especially "positive" or particularly easily impressed. And I'm certainly not religious.

Nonetheless, last night I had the most inspiring, uplifting, and yes, spiritual experience I've had in quite some time. Which I think is saying something.

I went to see Gang of Four play at Detroit's Majestic Theater. And for anyone who likes their music hard and their politics left, I can only entreat you as earnestly as I can: DON'T MISS THIS.

For those who're unfamiliar: Gang of Four got their start in Leeds, England well nigh 24 years ago, just past the crest of first-wave punk (emerging in tandem with the city's similarly-marvelous Mekons). And while Joe Strummer and the Clash might have inveighed against a formless "them" while sporting mao caps and brigato rosse T-shirts (and did so in fine style), the real hard left was the province of Andy Gill, Jon King, Dave Allen, and Hugo Burnham. Gang of Four's music was jagged, angular, propelled by a faintly-funky, rock-solid bass and drum backbeat overlaid by brittle, tense, broken-glass guitar by Andy Gill and the earnest, intense vocals of Jon King. Their lyrics - part pure poetry, part existential novel, part Das Kapital -  simultaneously succeeded in intellectualizing and universalizing human alienation, class struggle, and the desperation of impoverished urban life. And then they did the unthinkable and made it fun to listen to.

Gof4 tore Margaret Thatcher (and, by extension, Ronald Reagan) a new asshole by putting the bare lies of '80s capitalism/militarism/corporatism on center-stage display, using the dual wrecking balls of grim humor and the precisely-turned lyrical phrase to smash them to pieces:

"In this land/right now/some are insane/and they're in charge...to hell with poverty/we'll get drunk on cheap wine..."

"Woke up this morning desperation a.m./words I've been saying, won't say them again/my head's not empty, it's full with my brain/the thoughts I'm thinking like piss down a drain/and I feel like a beetle on its back/there is no way for me to get up/love will get you like a case of anthrax/and that's something I don't want to catch..."

The brilliant anti-consumerist anthem, "Call Me Up": "I need to have diversion/come to me with a new passion/having fun is my reason for living...children of the pleasure culture/who must be grateful for what we've got/happy smiles in sunny climes/so don't upset the ice cream cart."

And then there's a song I consider a masterwork - Gof4's plaintive, lonesome-sounding paen to the desperate life of oppressed women, "It's Her Factory," which likens the domestic cage of an urban housewife to the going-nowhere life on an assembly line: "Item: Unsung heroine of Britain...suffering/from suffrage/It's her factory/It's her duty...", while the ghostly wail of King's melodica drifted above the mix...

Bear in mind, they managed to make stuff like that rock.

OK, that was a quarter century ago. So what's that got to do with last night?

Last night the original Gof4 lineup - Burnham, Gill, King, Allen - delivered one of the tightest, most energetic, most passionate, and most downright entertaining live shows I've seen in ages. Sure, they're 25 years older, but the energy, the fire, is entirely undimmed. The music: crystalline, precise, virtually mandating the bobbing of heads and tapping of feet (even to someone as adverse to dancing as me...amazing). Gill whipping his stratocaster around carelessly, bouncing it off his amp, flinging it to the floor during his "Anthrax" feedback solo; King beating on an amplified microwave oven with a baseball bat, or doing backwards somersaults, lunging for the microphone, pouring every ounce of energy and passion he had into his lyrics. Meanwhile Allen's booming bass, in lockstep with Burnham's swiss-watch-precise drumming, created a rhythmic pulse that sucked you in, held you captive to the music...

And then they wound it up with the Velvet Underground's "Sweet Jane." Amazing.

Yes. It WAS that amazing. And more amazing still: The sight of two discrete generations of music fans - old punks, new punks, funk people, the odd metalhead, all captivated. Fists in the air. An hour and a half of inspiration, solidarity, and the inner sense of hope and possibility which, at it's best, music can instill.

For those inclined, here are their remaining dates, courtesy of their website:

MON     
16 - Boston AVALON
TUES    
17 - New York IRVING
WEDS    
18 - New York IRVING
FRI    
20 - Washington DC
SAT    
21 - Philadelphia

For what it's worth: I don't recommend things too often, or too enthusiastically. But Gof4...yeah. They blew me away, a truly unforgettable evening. And I suspect they'll blow you away too.

Site's here: Gang of Four