"We Jam Econo"--Required Viewing for Minutemen 101

What's harshing my mellow right now is how there's an anti-immigration group out there called The Minutemen. Why did they have to name themselves after my favorite band? Couldn't they pick another band? How about The Avenged Sevenfold Federation of Aryans? The Art Brutes? The Breaking Benjamin Militia? The Good Charlotte Beaner Hater Project? No, in an ironic twist of an ironic twist (seeing how the very name of the Minutemen band was named, in part, after a right-wing militia in the 60's), these clowns name themselves after the greatest punk rock band ever. The Minutemen are one of the only bands whose t-shirt I used to proudly wear; now, I worry about it getting misconstrued by those unfamiliar with the band.)

However, the other part of what the very name "Minutemen" means is what I love about this band.

When I saw "We Jam Econo," the Minutmen documentary in the theatre, I was annoyed with what I thought was excessive reliance on the Minutemen's contemporaries stating the obvious. In essence: "The Minutemen were really great musicians. "Double Nickels on the Dime" is a great record."

Thanks, Henry, Jello, Milo, and Ian et al. Couldn't've sussed that one out on my own. But...the 2nd time I saw it, I grew to like those parts just as much as the rest of it, if only because there's so much love for these guys in a way you don't see for too many punk bands from the 70's and 80's. Sure, plenty of bands from that era still sell t-shirts at Hot Topic, but there's a kind've religous fervor with San Pedro's Finest, a kind of reverence you only see in diehard Who fans. Approrpriate, because both bands have a total belief in the power of what they were doing, the idea that music has a power able to transcend our realities.

As Mike Watt explained in "We Jam Econo," the second component to the name was defining "minute" not as "60 seconds," but as "small." As in: mi-NUTE.

This documentary is a history lesson of how things used to be for your average unattractive schlep w/ a penchant for playing music (i.e. you, me, and everyone we know). That stage we take for granted used to be so far away and inaccessible except for a few stars. The best you could hope for was to learn some covers and play those on otherwise dead nights in some shitty bar.

Punk changed that, of course, and now, I worry that indie-rock is changing it back, with its over-reliance on glossy showbiz mechanisms.

"I never could get quite get into The Minutemen." So many times, I've heard that from garridge punk friends who should know better. Musicians, even. In fact, outside of my old Florida buddies, I can't think of anybody who's really into the Minutemen. Why is that? Is the music that inaccessible to the average stoopid punk weaned at the teat on nothing but odes to gluesniffing and girl troubles? Surely, it's not too stained from the excesses of 90's whiteboy funk (please don't lump the Minutemen w/ the Spin Doctors...) Does everything have to have a Marky Ramone beat behind it? Pardon the cliche, but I had a friend back in FLA who called The Minutemen a "thinking man's punk band," and maybe that's part of the problem. Maybe "thinking man's punk band" is a contradiction in terms for some, or the very act of using your brain gets you into some murky, pretentious, and unentertaining waters, waters you can't party down to on the weekend when you're at the rock club trying to get laid, unless songs about the colonial oppression of Central America light your crackpipe.

Well, "We Jam Econo" is for those who never quite "got" The Minutemen. This band is important, and their story needs to be told, because, like "History Lesson Part II" sez, "Our band could be your life."

Indeed, it is our life, because we're all mi-NUTE men, toiling in obscurity, putting in the long hours and maybe lucking out with a promotion, but it's a promotion on our terms, I hope. By being small, it means just doing your job as best as you can, without all the phony-baloney showbiz schtick (and that's what "Double Nickels on the Dime Means"), just "small" guys telling their stories. (That's something Watt and boon mention time and time again: We're just trying to tell our story.) No booj. No mersh. No egos. Pull your weight. Put the time and energy into the music, put your heart and soul in the music, leave the showbiz to the latest skinny-tied average mersh abomination. Just shut the fuck up and do your job. Like you, I sometimes need that reminder.

In 1994, I saw fIREHOSE at this hardrock Orlando dump called The Station. Watt came up to me and talked at (me too quiet to make that a "talk to") me for a few minutes and I actually got some words in over feeling intimidated and "starstruck" by the whole thing. A bunch of hair metal dudes were walking into the show. "They think they're gonna see Firehouse," Watt said. (They were a very bad, beyond hope even through 21st century pomo kitsch, hair metal band...in case you kids were wondering.) I laughed. "But that's cool," Watt continued with the spiel. "It's like the Germs, see, "What we do is secret! Secret!"

At the time, he was about 2-3 years older than I am now, playing in clubs on tour that are almost as shitty as The Station. I don't know how much longer I will want to play in a band. Maybe 20 years. Maybe 2 months. But, to even have that option now, I owe that much to Watt. There really are no rules anymore. If you go to the Empty Bottle on any given night, you're gonna see so many different types of bands and so many different types of people from all over the place making the music--some you will like and some you will loathe--but they all have their origin in this idea...of small men, bravely stepping up onstage...having questionable talent and nothing much at all going for them except some ideas and the desire to express them. Yeah, some of it is showbiz (increasingly moreso as the irony we thought we killed continues to fuck everything up), but most of it ain't, and even if I dislike some of it, it's better than a monolithic sameness and a rock star elite.

Nowadays, I miss the Minutemen for the same reason I miss Bill Hicks. The Enemies have not been this clear and this obvious since the sixties. The forces of good versus evil have not been this clearcut since the 60's, and what the fuck is going on with music? It's pretty ugly out there right now, and everybody's just pretending it's all okay, aside from a few personal hangups that'll get better when puberty (or, more in keeping with these days, our 20's and 30's) is outgrown.

I don't want retread nostalgia horseshit. I want stories and expression, challenge and ideas, a documentation of what you're really thinking. (Maybe that's why I like double albums so much. If you're going to release that much music, there comes a point where you really have to let go of your inner critic and just say whatever it is you're wanting to say.) The Minutemen gave me all that, and fortunately, I was young enough for it to make a profound impression. I like dum-dum music as much as the next guy, but that ain't all I wanna hear, especially if you're not a dummy.

The Minutemen, like The Ramones, like The Stooges, like Captain Beefheart, like Coltrane, like Sun Ra, and hell, even like The Spits, are one of those musical experiences that, once you get it, you really get it, and you're a better person for it. I want everybody I know to finally fucking get The Minutemen already and like them as much as I do, and this movie (besides their songs) is the best way to make that happen.