Revisiting the past can be tricky.  Depending on the mood you are in or how your view of the world has developed, it’s just as easy to hone in on only the high notes as it is to look back and dwell on the what-could-have-beens.

But does either extreme really tell the “truth”?

Truth is subjective. Everyone will have their own take on both individual and collective experiences.  Whether it’s political history or personal romantic travails, the story is often told through the lens of one’s own current state of mind.

So, why search the past for answers to the present, given that the memories will likely be influenced by one’s current outlook?  I say we should do it to get a clearer look at where we are in the present, regardless of our state of mind.  After all, this moment – right here, right now – is more precious, more important, more pertinent than anything that’s been said and done or anything that has yet to come.  Only right now do we have the opportunity to impart change.  Only right now can we inspire one another to live our lives more fully.  Only right now are we able to stop, look, think, reflect, and act.

I spent six years assembling a book about 1990s hardcore called Burning Fight:  The Nineties Hardcore Revolution in Ethics, Politics, Spirit, and Sound.  This project was important to me because that era of hardcore changed my life – primarily because of what I learned from my experiences in the scene.  Yes, I encountered bands that affected me with their music on a deeply emotional level, but the ideas presented in the lyrics and the engaging discussions I had with friends and even strangers at shows were far more important, because we challenged each other to examine our individual worldviews and to think critically.

Many of us who took part in the nineties hardcore scene headed off on our own paths.  But did that spirit that motivated us to challenge ourselves, get involved, and create disappear?

When I started working on the book around 2002/2003, I asked myself, “I wonder what all these people are up to right now?”  As I began interviewing people I received an answer that was quite inspiring.

Though the people I talked to may or may not have anything to do with hardcore anymore, I found almost everyone was doing really interesting and positive things in the present. Some were teachers, social workers, activists, or academics.  Others were creating other kinds of music, running their own businesses, and/or raising their families on the principles that changed their lives.

I’d often ask these folks, “How has hardcore changed your life?”  Nearly everyone, regardless of how many message boards (if any) they’ve frequented in the past decade, gave resoundingly positive answers.  Sure, most have issues with the way some ideas were implemented in the scene, the ill-informed actions of others, or even their own personal roadblocks that prevented them from contributing as much as they would have liked at that time.  But the experience itself – that critical discourse with a community of people, most of whom were looking to better themselves and the world around them – exhilarated them and, most importantly, opened up a giant window to the present.

Talking to these people reminded me that we all have the opportunity to make an impact on the world around us. One person cannot necessarily change the entire world; however, we can all inspire one another to take control of our lives, become active, and become better people.

Some feel that hardcore has lost some of its passion, but when I see or listen to bands like Soul Control, Sick Fix, Poison Planet, 108, Failures, The Hope Conspiracy, Paint it Black, Harm’s Way, Cipher, Coalesce, Coke Bust, Boiling Over, and many others, I am just as energized by the scene as ever.  But now that I’ve had a chance to reflect on the past, I am more aware of how to engage with others and contribute in my own manner.

But this one era of this one underground community doesn’t have a patent on these notions.  Whatever culture or community we come from, we should look to the past as a reminder of how we got to where we are now.  But we shouldn’t stop there.  We should take these memories as signs on a roadmap for the present and as blueprints for how to build ourselves a better future.

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Brian Peterson is the author of Burning Fight – The Nineties Hardcore Revolution in Ethics, Politics, Spirit and Sound. You can learn more about the book at BurningFightBook.com.

Spare me the histrionics and hand wringing, please.

I very honestly do not understand the criticism of Owl City (a.k.a. Adam Young). Okay, dude’s Christian and he’s less adept at integrating his faith into his music than Nathan Burke, but then again, that’s pretty high bar to clear. This guy wrote what a lot of people believe is a reasonable facsimilie of a Postal Service record in his basement. Given that Give Up was something people enjoyed, what’s the problem?

A major label signed an artist that sounds a lot like another one in the independent music scene. This is not news. This is business as usual. This is standard operating procedure. In short: Yes, poaching and exploitation are some of the avenues through which major labels find artists. No shit, guys.

Hell, I’ll go further. Why didn’t Sub Pop sign him? It’s not like Ben Gibbard and that other guy that is not Ben Gibbard in the Postal Service have a patent on bubbly, electronic-tinged, unthreatening pop music. And if they did, there would be a line of electronica artists out the door saying “not so fast.”

Let’s face facts. If Adam Young, on his own, while unloading delivery trucks, can write an appealing, unassuming electro-pop disc (which most listeners find the closest touchstone to be the Postal Service), imagine what he could do if he focused on music full time. You don’t have to be a Fred Perry-wearing, I-leave-a-slime-trail-wherever-I-go A&R guy to want to make that happen. Having the ability to make that happen doesn’t make you evil either. So long as everyone’s honest about what Owl City is, where his influences (Imogen Heap, the Postal Service, Boards of Canada and Armin Van Buuren) are and how much he’s taking, wholesale, from the Postal Service (and he is), then I want him to write more.

His lyrics aren’t as thoughtful or vivid as Gibbard’s, but then again, he was 22, 23 when he wrote it. He will grow, mature and find more interesting ways to talk about the things he sings. “Fireflies” is four minutes which, lyrically, can be boiled down to “I like looking at pretty things, of which you are one.” He’s not reinventing the wheel, but no one’s claiming he is.

On a personal level, the guy’s shy and afraid something he says is going to taken out of context. Within the conservative view of the mainstream media, that’s not terribly surprising. The guy’s a year older than I am, for heaven’s sake. If I knew I was going to have a New York Times profile on me, I’d be shitting bricks too.

In short: Owl City sounds like the Postal Service at a time when it’s been a while since the last Postal Service record; a major label found him and is now promoting the hell out of him, using “grassroots” things like putting him in TV shows, not dropping him ass-end first on the radio without building up a core fanbase. This is not evil, it’s intelligent marketing on a talent that can reasonably be expected to grow and bear further fruit in the future.

And honestly? That fruit isn’t quite as rotten as they think.

Perhaps still not drunk but absolutely not sober. Coughing up cigarette butts, a possible sty in one eye and no contact lens where a contact lens should be in the other. Pushing myself up from a hotel room floor where I’ve logged a total of four hours of sleep, I ask myself, “Is that pool of wet on the side of my leg is urine or beer.?” I decide I’d rather not know and prepare for my day. While this process resembles my daily routine on tour, this day is different – for I find myself in Florida for the fourth straight year for The Fest. Unfortunately, this is only after day one and my friends and I need be out of our room in a half an hour and in South Carolina by 4 p.m. Older, balder and rounder than in years past – no, I’m not the lead singer of Samiam – my name is Trevor and I tour manage/roadie/sell merch/talk down to/belittle a band called Polar Bear Club. If I had a business card it would read “jack of all trades, master of none.” Well, either that or “professional drunk.”

I take to hot weather as well as Goose hits it off with fruits and vegetables, but over the course of the last four years I have always managed to make an appearance in Gainesville, Florida around Halloween in order to attend The Fest. For Fest 5, while at work, I applied and was granted a credit card that I promptly used to book a flight to Florida. This was two days before the actual event and my boss could not comprehend why I wasn’t planning on showing up for my shifts the following three days. Apparently,  the excuse “I just shit out a worm” just doesn’t hold as much weight as it used to.  Four years later, I still haven’t paid off that flight debt. It’s still worth it.

For The Fest 6, my friend Colin, Bob (the original drummer for PBC), his girlfriend and I all hopped in my Toyota Yaris and figured it was a good idea to drive over 24 hours straight from Rochester, New York to Florida without any type of sleep.  What makes the trek more of an accomplishment is that I was the only one to drive and this was after the Cocaine Years so I was on no type of upper. I can’t tell you any of the bands I actually saw that year but I can assure you that Bob and his girlfriend definitely had sex on my hotel bed that weekend. Hippies.

The Fest 7; well, I was working for Polar Bear Club by then and we were on tour with Crime In Stereo, Broadway Calls, and some Christian band.  I recall catching a couple of bands here and there but mostly I remember PBC and myself wondering if anyone was actually going to attend their particular show. Of course as Youtube and Chris Browne after two beers will tell you, Polar Bear Club pulled off one of the best performances of the entire festival. Again touring down to The Fest with our friends in Strike Anywhere, this year was going to be slightly different – because like it or not we were only going to be in attendance for one night, Friday.

We arrived early in Gainesville pretty hung over from our previous night in Orlando. When I say “we” of course I mean me. Putting aside a temporary affliction, I went into the day hoping to catch numerous bands other than Polar Bear Club. However, just like years past, I found out that seeing even the smallest of bands is certainly a chore due to long lines, old friends, and alcohol.

After sorting merch for hours in the beating heat and hosing myself down in the hotel room where we crammed seven different individuals, it was off to hear some music that wasn’t off of The Redder, The Better, Sometimes Things Just Disappear, or Chasing Hamburg. Ducking into the closest bar that also served food, we quickly learned that friendship was more important than seeing a band that once put out a seven inch on No Idea Records.  Also, for the first time in my travels to the humid hell of Florida I understood that the annual Fest was very similar to the high school reunion I never attended. Instead of catching up with Most Likely To Succeed, I shot the shit with Fuzz, who sold merch for The Gaslight Anthem during the time they still spoke to us. Rather than talking politics with Best Looking Couple, I downed a couple of beers with Most Likely To All Die Before Thirty – Living With Lions. Lastly, it wasn’t Prom Queen who unceremoniously snubbed me, but Rory from American Steel who had no idea who I was even though we toured together for many weeks less than a year ago. Of course, Rory eventually figured it out and a couple of us drank with him until 5 a.m. As penance I made him give me beer, cigarettes and promise to never ever put out another Communique record again.

So right then and there I decided the only band I had intentions of seeing was Polar Bear Club. Most clubs had a queue that went on for what seemed like miles and miles. The VIP wristband that got me in past the line at the venue PBC was playing absolutely played a part in my eventual attendance. There were other factors as well. While at a venue very far away from PBC’s stage and merch table I sat talking to Josh from Strike Anywhere. Small Brown Bike droned on in the background and the text messages from Goose who was covering merch duties began to fly in at a rapid pace. “I was paid our guarantee, Daddy’s paying rent this month!” “Tell everyone to stop buying me shotz.” “Seriously, I’m going to puke.” “I think I gave away our guarantee to a homeless dog.” Goose’s desperation drew me away from good conversation and brought me to the only band I was going to see on that Friday Fest night.

And just like last year, all of us considered that our room may not be full due to questionable scheduling decisions. But once again that anxiety was quickly put to sleep by a packed room and a performance that may have topped anything else seen that weekend. While I didn’t actually watch Small Brown Bike, American Steel, or A Wilhelm Scream, I’m lucky I was able to catch up with old friends and witness my favorite band, Polar Bear Club, continue to grow and energize kids half my age. My only regret? Well, that questionable wet spot from paragraph one? Yeah, that was definitely piss. See you next year.

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Trevor Backer is tour manager for the band Polar Bear Club. Follow his bloggy exploits at polarblogclub.com. Polar Bear Club themselves will appear on an upcoming episode of Issue Oriented.

Recently, there has been some internet-based discussion about Bridge Nine Records – they’re being carped on for not putting the original art on the cover a new re-release of Agnostic Front’s highly influential record Victim In Pain.

Dudes. It’s a picture of a Holocaust murder. Let’s be clear: Yes, the image is arresting and when Victim In Pain was released, it was pretty hard to find images that would send a shock like that to your system. It gave you an immediate idea of what was on the record and a vague map of the ground to come with the purchase.

It’s 2009 now. There’s videos of protesters bleeding out and dying on YouTube, archived for the world to see and published, in portions, on 24 Hour News Networks. If you want arresting images, you don’t have to search that hard to find them. The shock from seeing a dude getting shot into a mass grave on a CD is lessened, significantly, by other images being broadcast daily. Trying to recapture that shock is a fool’s errand.

It’s 2009 now. Victim In Pain isn’t a new thing; it’s a classic. If you listen to NYHC (I’ll say now that I don’t and the music is older than I am) then odds are you own or have heard it. Why not give Victim In Pain a more stately cover to reflect its profound influence on the music we listen to today?

It’s 2009 now. Agnostic Front is 25 years older and perhaps they didn’t think it was necessary to use the same cover they did when they were that young. Maybe, they have other concerns, like realizing that for some of their friends and extended family, it’s a rough picture to use and while the heart’s in the right place back then, putting that same picture on the cover (in 2009) to sell records seems less defensible now than when they were in their twenties.

Not caring when you’re twenty-something about what “other people” are going to say and not caring when you’re forty or fifty about what some of your friends are going to feel are two entirely different things emotionally and it doesn’t mean anything is being betrayed or short-changed.

In short, I don’t think Victim In Pain needs the shock value any longer and while it seems like the “punk” thing to do to keep a controversial cover on a classic, I believe Agnostic Front (and Bridge Nine) can reasonably decide that 25 years later, that’s not a decision they would make again.

(Russ Rankin is widely known as the vocalist of Good Riddance and Only Crime, and has a regular column in AMP Magazine. www.RussRankin.com)

It’s the fall of 2009, and America finds itself turned upside-down with social and political turbulence, more divided then we’ve been since the 1960s. An era with so much promise has quickly devolved into a bitter, dogmatic war being waged by powerful and vindictive opponents of every stripe, with the only real casualties being our rights, freedoms and the ability to peaceably engage in tempered debate. I was always under the assumption that intelligent people could disagree on things; that even those with opposing views possessed the ability to enter into an edifying discourse free of classism or vitriolic enmity. The events of this past summer and the general tenor of our national conversations since Barack Obama became President have cast an ugly pall on America and proven that my youthful assumptions couldn’t be further from the truth.

What passes for news in this country has collapsed into a snake pit of polemics and polarization. There is no longer any rational discussion of anything. The new standard is to line up two bumptious partisans and let them off their chains to spew, spit and insult each other for two or three minutes resolving nothing. Rarely is any point made or subject intelligently presented. Even worse than the juvenile back and forth: the fact that our airwaves (built at public expense) are being offered up to these zealots as free platforms to disseminate their maxims without regard for comity or fact. A disturbing example of the state of modern news is Pat Buchanan being given a regular forum on MSNBC where his title is “Political Analyst”. Never mind that Buchanan has famously shown his disdain for anything liberal and is prone to a degree of xenophobia that borders on outright racism; he is still propped up as an expert and allowed to say whatever he wants on our dime. Recently during a three-and-a-half minute verbal fistfight (presumably over health care reform), one of these “Republican Strategists” was allowed to say that America has “the best health care in the world” and neither his Democratic opponent or the host bothered to correct him (the United States ranks either 37th or 39th in health care in the world depending on which organization’s list you refer to). I mean, this is important stuff. isn’t it? If someone is allowed to perpetrate an outright falsehood without being called on it, and millions of people are watching because they still think it’s “The News” then we have a problem. Equally disconcerting is the complete media blackout on any discussion of single-payer health care as an option. There’s even a bill in Congress right this minute (H.R. 676) which would give every American health care and cost us less money. Don’t you think that would be helpful to know? Wouldn’t you like to see its merits or faults discussed?

The term ‘Town Hall’ was introduced intro the America’s political lexicon during Bill Clinton’s initial Presidential campaign, and the cozy format has since found widespread popularity with politicians at every level looking to connect with their constituents. During their recent summer recess, many Congressional representatives held town hall meetings in their districts to get people involved in the conversation regarding health care reform. The intentions were good, and in theory it seemed a perfect way to get back to the roots of our Democratic experiment; but somewhere, things went horribly wrong. By now everyone has seen footage of disruptive, xenophobic and outright abusive conduct taking place all over the country at these gatherings. People were shouted down and pushed around, and there seemed to be well-placed shills at each meeting whose duties were to ostensibly yell “Fire!” in a crowded theater.

The fact that hundreds of people from the same community may disagree on an admittedly tempestuous issue wasn’t a surprise. What I found disturbing about this pattern of disorder was how over the top it was. When people can come to blows at a forum on health care, it tells me there is a deeper issue seething just beneath the surface. Something far darker and more pathological is going on and it has very little to do with health care. This issue just happens to be the flashpoint at which this greater malaise has chosen to bubble over and show itself.

It’s easy to point the finger at the Republican Party. It’s what we call “low-hanging fruit.” Narrow-minded dogma and a distinct lack of social conscience have become GOP bellwethers; while the neocons do everything within their power to ensure that the President fails, they continue to browbeat us with a lofty moral code which less and less of them seem able to live up to themselves. These factors aside, however, I believe there are forces at work in our latest national rifts which have little to do with partisan politics and more to do with fear and hate.

The wealthy Americans at the center of this particular storm are scared to death of anything changing; and they feel that the only way they can abate that change is by sufficiently terrifying the rest of us. How else could the ludicrous suggestion that the President’s health care proposal would include some type of “Death Panel” to kill off our grandparents gain any traction? Another popular tactic over the summer’s debate included dire warnings and grave predictions of a sinister slide into “Socialism” should we adopt any type of government run health care system (apart from the several we already have which nobody seems to mention). Within days “socialism” became a four letter word; a fearsome bugaboo which threatened to destroy our way of life and devour the very fabric of our society.

This would have been a perfect opportunity, regarding the single-payer option, to talk about the dozens of other industrialized Democratic nations who, despite having less resources then the U.S., somehow find a way to provide free health care for all of their citizens. It might have been interesting to see whether the same people who were warning us about “socialism” would consider New Zealand, the UK or Canada to be socialist countries. All three are western, industrialized democracies with homegrown multimillion dollar companies. None of them have even close to the GNP (gross national product) of the United States and yet they still find a way to include everyone with comprehensive, cradle-to-grave coverage, and the kicker is they manage to do it for a lower cost than our current system. Now I don’t know about anyone else but if this is “socialism” then sign me up (for the record simply providing health care to it’s citizens doesn’t meet the requirements for a socialist society).

For whatever reason, health care has become one of those subjects which seems to strike a raw nerve with just about everybody. It’s right up there with politics, religion and organized sports. It’s pivotal that we learn how our discussions on the topic have unraveled and regressed so quickly? Where is our ability to discuss, listen and even disagree in a civil manner?

There are those who think that everyone who opposes the President is a racist. I’m certain that most rational people don’t feel this way but I can’t help but wonder if race doesn’t play a part at some level. A friend recently commented that we never saw this level of division and argument amongst ourselves when George W. Bush was President, to which I replied, “When you rustle the weeds you disturb the snakes.” I think that perhaps Obama’s ascension to the Oval Office has done just that; it has mobilized a more insidious fringe of our populace. We are seeing that small but vocal minority expressing it’s outrage.

I am certain there are people who oppose the President because they flatly disagree with his ideas. I am also fairly sure there are, unfortunately, those who can’t abide an African American in the White House – but I don’t think that one necessarily precludes the other. To paint every person who loudly disagrees with the President as a racist is wrong and misses the point. We ought to be able to disagree and constructively criticize those who we have elected to speak for us and we ought to be able to do it in a dignified way. Shouting absurdities at a town hall meeting doesn’t help anyone any more than yelling “racist!” at the first sign of dissension. Both overreactions only serve to create a level of unease around a topic which requires focused discussion now more than ever. My fear is that for all the money spent and hours devoted to overhauling America’s health care system, we will ultimately end up with a watered down version of the same dysfunctional model we had to begin with. There will still be privatized, for profit health care controlled by HMOs who will persist in overcharging us with one hand while with the other diligently searching for ways to deny us the very coverage for which we currently overpay.

Perhaps even more frustrating is that, for all of our attentions and trouble, we have succeeded in crippling the scope of the debate rather than broadening it. One example: with our 24 hours of news channels and army of hosts, there still seems to be no mention of H.R. 676 which would finally give the United States a viable, single-payer system wherein every American would be covered for less money than we are paying right now. Whether you agree with a single-payer philosophy or not you must concede the importance of choice and discussion and that H.R. 676 is something that at the very least the American people have a right to know about.

So back to why Americans seem no longer capable of rational disagreement: I believe there are powerful people intent on disseminating enough misinformation to foment fear, panic and hatred – and that these people, admittedly a minority, have been unusually successful in this endeavor. A good question is, how are they doing it? Unfortunately they are doing it with the very infrastructure of communication we (the public) funded years ago but which has been handed to this small group of corporate elite, to use as their own private playground for the last decade or so. Of course most Americans still dutifully watch “The News,” believing they are being properly informed on matters about which they will be required to make a decision in the future. It is a national scandal that our media and our systems of information are being used to marginalize and divide us into polarized groups who seem capable only of berating each other.

More than ever, we appear to be locked into a climate of fear and mistrust. Any idea, person or way of life different from what is in our immediate sphere is automatically cast in doubt and incessantly demonized by the powerful groups who profit from the status quo. Most other civilized nations couldn’t care less if gay couples marry each other but for some reason it’s an issue here. It’s inexplicable to me. When friends from other countries question me about things like same-sex marriage or health care, I just shrug my shoulders. What can I say? I am torn between my desire to sheepishly defend my country of birth and my daily realization that I live in an underachieving Democracy, one fond of vacantly beating it’s chest while possessing all the international tact of a bull in a china shop. We have allowed ourselves to backslide into a myopic society of greed, avarice and self-delusion where corporate thieves are rewarded, and our entire value system seems to be based upon how effectively we can climb over each other to amass wealth we then refuse to share. We have a large perforation in our collective heart where a living, breathing social contract longs to thrive. We are so busy looking out only for ourselves that we have forgotten how deeply rewarding it is to help other people and to feel connected to a greater community.

I blame a pervasive culture in our government which perpetuates a winner-take-all belief system and thrives on it’s ability to purposefully misinform and marginalize the very public it is supposed to be serving. The people we faithfully elect to go to Washington D.C. on our behalves soon find themselves besieged by lobbyists bearing lucrative “gifts,” and in no time they fall in line to cash in. Returning home emasculated, they invariably blame “The System” or an opposing party, and we pat them on the back and tell them “better luck next time.” All the while the interests of a privileged few are being fervently pursued and protected while the rest of us just chalk it up to tough times and go about the business of being manipulated.

I don’t want to be told who to blame, fear or despise for my fate. I want to be shown how I can participate effectively in a solution. I am reminded of the film The American President ,in which Michael Douglas portrays fictional President Andrew Shepherd and in a speech calls being an American “Advanced Citizenship.” “You’ve got to want it bad,” he says. He is talking about taking the high road in our national debates and treading the more difficult paths of reason and understanding while the simpler options of hate and fear beckon lasciviously. Currently President Obama has appealed to a sense of greater civic duty, which he naively assumes we all posses though recent history has shown us to be a nation of people who constantly surmise that someone else will always do the wet work. I for one am happy to do my part. I will pay higher taxes if it means that everyone can have access to free health care in this country. I will practice the precept that the First Amendment applies to everyone; even those with whom I fervently disagree, and I will do my best to engage my fellows in this grand experiment of Democracy for the betterment of us all instead of only the richest one percent. I think we all need to begin thinking about ways in which we can give back to those with whom we share this expansive republic, instead of obsessing about what we don’t have or coveting the fleeting elation of material wealth. Neither money, war or demagoguery will cure what ails us as a nation. We need a fundamental shift in our attitude towards one another and a resuscitation of the American legacy of open-mindedness and exploration. There is so much we can learn from what is going on around the world today and yet we choose to constantly tell ourselves we are perfect and bury our heads back in the sand.