When you become a music journalist, it’s very easy to become jaded by your job. You listen to tons and tons of records. Music is no longer a hobby, it’s your life. I listen to at least five new records a week, and sometimes I have to listen to stuff I don’t like. Rant n’ Rave is my blog, but I still have to review records that appeal to the general public to generate traffic. It can be painful sometimes, because I have to listen to these records in succession. It’s very easy to get burned out. I’ve come close once or twice, but then something happens that reminds me why I love music so much.
The club was packed with over 500 kids, wedged together against the barricade. They were waiting, waiting, waiting for something to happen. The seconds ticked by and the anticipation started to peak. The lights went down and there was a roar. Lead singer Brian Fallon strapped on his guitar while guitarist Alex Rosamilia played the opening riff to “Great Expectations.” When Benny Horowitz’s drums kicked in and Fallon started to sing, the kids started to mosh.
Usually I’d be in mortal fear of such a development, but this pit was unlike any I’ve ever been in. These kids weren’t out for blood or to display testosterone. The pit was a forum to express their joy and love. These kids were crowding to the front, but I was safe. They thought about the people around them, while still having an excellent time. They were pumping their fists in the air and clapping and singing along. At times it felt like a huge camp sing-along.
These kids weren’t reacting to superficial trappings of the average rock band. They weren’t reacting this way because there was huge amounts of pyrotechnics, or because the band had cool stage outfits. They were reacting to the music, to the lyrics and to the passion. Overproccessed rock n’ roll has become so prevalent that it often threatens the genuine article. There is no pretentious bullshit in the Gaslight Anthem. When Fallon told the crowd to have a good weekend at the end of the show, it wasn’t stage banter. He actually meant it.
The passion also extends to how they treat people. The band stuck around, signing records for the kids waiting outside after. When you meet Brian, Alex, Alex and Benny, you get the sense that they are really interested in what the kids have to say. There’s eye contact, firm handshakes and honest answers. It’s an extension of Joe Strummer’s philosophy that the band and the fans are on the same level. I’ve been lucky enough to meet and talk to several bands in my life. I am happy to say that most of them have been nice to me. However, there are a rare few that I feel I truly got to know.
There are a few bands that I have a rapport with. They talk to me not because I was a fan waiting for them to sign something or a journalist. They talked to me because I was just hanging out with them. The Gaslight Anthem wants people to get involved. By blurring the line between performer and average joe, their fanbase responds with honest passion. This extends to their entire organization, from their tour manager Hollie, to the opening acts, Good Old War and Pela. This is the true punk rock aesthetic. It’s not about safety pins, spiky hair and nihilism. It’s about the attitude and how you treat people.
To paraphrase Jon Landau, I have seen the future of rock n’ roll and its name is The Gaslight Anthem. I hope mainstream America has enough sense to embrace them.