Disco de Fugazi: “Repeater”

Fugazi were one of the last true punk bands of the '90s, though to associate them with straightforward 3-chord punk rock would be somewhat misleading. Ian McKaye, Guy Picciotto (of Minor Threat, Embrace and Rites Of Spring respectively) and the rhythm team of Brendan Canty and Joe Lally played music that both abandoned the genre's limitations and celebrated its anti-corporate DYI ethos. While bands like Green Day and Offspring were watering punk down into commercially accessible territory, Fugazi stayed defiant while constantly refining their sound.

Repeater is perhaps the band's high-water mark, expanding and improving the template laid down by their debut 13 Songs. The dual-vocalist approach was finally crystallized (Guy's singing sounds more confident on this album), the lyrics became more assured and intelligent (not to say 13 Songs was lagging in this respect), and the songwriting is tighter. Lally and Canty's rhythm playing is top-notch, punching out dub-inspired grooves and angular beats with ablomb in a manner that recalls Gang Of Four at their best. The twin guitars crash, plink, and screech all over the dynamic stop/start/loud/quiet rhythms, establishing that MacKaye/Picciotto are not only great vocalists--they may have been one of alternative/punk's best guitar duos (up there with Lee and Thurston of Sonic Youth).

Turnover kicks off the album with a cautious report of feedback leading into an excellent Guy song (I love how he sings against the rhythm on the second verse). The title track throws a pounding jungle pulse over Ian's rants. Merchandise is the band's manifesto--it speaks for itself ("You are not what you own!"). Sieve-Fisted Find sports more Guy vocals over a RAD bassline. My favorite, Blueprint starts quietly with an instantly memorable repeated guitar figure before exploding into another Fugazi classic. Shut The Door closes the LP with Ian's haunting observation of domestic abuse. The 3 Songs EP adds an instrumental (Joe #1), the solid Song #1, and Break-In which is perhaps the most hardcore-sounding track on the album.

Fugazi are no more, which is too bad but fortunately they have left a discography that (along with Helmet) laid the foundation for post-hardcore. Repeater is punk with heart, balls, and a brain. Get it.

Fugazi are perhaps the last true punk band. This is not because they're tough or juvenille or super-political. This is not because they have 3 foot high mohawks and copious amounts of leather and denim(they don't, thank god). This is not because they sound like every band that occurred from the late 70's till the mid 80's. Fugazi reach back beyond all the punk paraphanelia, posturing, supposed ideals to find the true spirit of just what punk was. Fugazi's music is their own. It does not compromise and it sounds like nothing else.

Most punk bands, as musicians, stick to the 3 chord or nothing rule. Not Fugazi. Even with no formal training, Ian McKaye and Guy Piccioto where smart enough to recognize that the guitar, in fact, has 6 strings on it and is capable of a wider variety of sounds that powerchords. Fugazi's unique guitar sound is just one of their trademarks, as their rhythym section, consisting of Joe Lally and Brendan Canty is formidable. Less concerned with creating breakneck speed than they are with locking their instruments together and making a tight groove, these guys should be examined by younger punk musicians.

There really isn't any punk I care for anymore. Everyone is either pop-ifying the genre or sticking the boring old rulebook to be enjoyable anymore. This album will always have a special place in the underground rock catelog. I urge you to check this band out.

This collection is definitely the pinnacle of Fugazi's work for me. It holds its energy all the way through, yet doesn't wear you down like some of their other releases. If I was a Fugazi neophyte, I would start here.

If I had to recommend a Fugazi album to someone I knew nothing about (like you, dear anonymous reader) I would say, "Get yourself some Repeater now." As a piece of art, this CD works wonders on many levels and keeps offering new experiences every time I listen to it. Even after over 13 years, these songs refuse to give up their relentless pursuit of meaning and declaration. Fugazi will meet you where you are, but soon take you somewhere entirely different. And when you get there, you will wonder how you ever went without it.

Fugazi's first full-length, Repeater was reissued as a CD with 3 bonus tracks from the Subpop singles club to make it Repeater + 3 songs. Right away, before I even listened to the thing, I was impressed with Dischord's marketing tactic--give the people more music than they expect. I like that. It shows confidence in the music and respect for the consumer, with just a slight touch of completism. (This tends to be a theme running throughout all Fugazi's work, in my opinion.)

Turnover begins inauspiciously enough. The quietest of feedback fades in and out, waiting for something to happen. This goes on for about 20 seconds, then the introductions quickly begin. Brendan Canty feathers his high-hat and brings bassist Joe Lally with him to groove along to the guitar work. It is that tight looseness that Fugazi may well have a patent on, and before you know it Ian MacKaye's guitar explodes and Guy Picciotto is rocking the mic. The rhymes are there. The pre-emo sighing in tune is there. The French lyrics are there.

And yes, even the Beatles reference is there. "I'm only sleeping," Picciotto insists. But where John Lennon started a revolution from his bed (in another firearm LP known as Revolver), Picciotto's character just wants to turnover and pretend that this is all a bad dream. And he notices similar laziness in his antagonist's tactics when he does confront him, "Lounge against your weapons until your muscles rot locked in the ease of that position." What to do, what to do, with all the troubles outside?

No pause before the next song. MacKaye's restless Repeater lyrics spare no mercy for the tired man in Turnover. "When I need something I reach out and grab it," he responds. And then the whole problem is revealed: "Did you hear something outside? It sounded like a gun. Stay away from that window. It's not anyone that We know only about ourselves and what we read in the papers." We just do not know how much is wrong with this situation, and that is okay, because we still have twelve songs left to go. The papers can wait.

The two instrumentals serve their purpose. They give you a mental rest from the lyrical hailstorm that is the backbone of the album. Brendan #1 and Joe #1 provide a bright spotlight on Fugazi's young rhythm section, but take on deeper significance when they're considered as precursors to the more effective instrumentals that grace In On the Kill Taker and Red Medicine.

If what you're looking for is the catchiest example of early Fugazi's fist-shaking, big-chorus singalongs, look no further than Merchandise. This is a classic. Lines like "We owe you nothing. You have no control," and "You are not what you own," cannot be bolded or underlined enough to accurately describe the impact they had on punk rock and do-it-yourself. And it's not just the words, though they are beautiful. It's the delivery. It's the spit coming through your speakers and it's the little vein that pops out of MacKaye's forehead whenever he catches someone moshing or crowd-surfing. And it's the "No, thank you," with which Fugazi has turned down every major label contract offered to them. Merchandise stands alone.

Shut the Door follows up on the story first introduced to us in Suggestion, 13 Songs' rape account as seen through the eyes of the victim. While Suggestion said, "We are all guilty," Shut the Door pins the blame back on the individual who broke the surface. It is this attacker who is so aware of nothing but himself, whose persona MacKaye takes on to dramatic effect. He uses contradictory lines like "I burn a fire to stay cool," and "I tie my arms to be free," to paint this picture of a lost man who has absolutely no clue what is happening or where he is. "She's not breathing! She's not coming back!" MacKaye screams out at the top of his lungs as he fails to understand what he has done. The whole world collapses into a tiny room as the band dies down and MacKaye futilely begs someone to "shut the door so I can leave." The door remains open and what we see inside is terrifying, sad, and real. Where do we go from here? Is there any way out of this mess? Fugazi leaves these questions to their later albums, but the next step is hinted at in the first bonus track...

Song #1 is about many things. It has one of those all-purpose themes that just say, "Life is what you want it to be. Don't get tangled up trying to be free and don't worry what the other people see. It's nothing." And the word nothing is stretched out and played with to the point where nothing sounds like it could be something, but that is just to draw attention to how big nothing is. The point is that it is still nothing, really.

Repeater, as a whole, has its fair share of straightforward messages to offer on an initial surface listen. No Argument there. But give it just three spins, and you will discover much more than angry youth slogans and punk rock guitar octaves. You will find an enjoyable listening experience to last years.

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