Bad Religion is punk music’s Clint Eastwood, poignant and highly respected … but they don’t make us tear up like Million Dollar Baby. They’ve produced and toured with the finest, most thought-provoking punk rock for 35 years. That’s older than me, that’s possibly older than you, and it’s a testament to what intelligence, hard work, and standing for what you believe in can do.
Last night was the first of two shows at the Paradise Rock Club. The plan is that for each evening, the set list will represent a century, a “Battle of the Centuries” if you will. The sold out Monday episode showcased the 20th century (their 1980-2000 catalog), with enough social commentary to start an uprising. Much of the crowd was restrained by achy bones at this point to start any actual riots, however. Lead man Greg Graffin, with his wise white hair proclaimed, “I’ve retired from the pit, too many aches. At a show, you’ll find me up there in the cheap seats … sipping a brandy … probably reading, or writing, rather.” To which bass player Jay Bentley replied something like, “Dick wad.”
Despite their self-effacing ageist humor, these guys are unstoppable. Bands half their age can’t perform at the level that they do. They sprinted through 31 songs (plus a tease of “My Sherona”) in 80 minutes. That’s at the stamina level of a doped up Tour de France cyclist. As everyone pulls their weight with artisanal performance skills, Greg studiously moves along the stage. He uses his hands a lot. Pointing at people with a face of authority, double middle fingers, but mostly the quick gestures of an impromptu conductor—Hands flat to keep audience calm, palms up to encourage chorus, and pinched hands to enforce succinct points. His voice carries across the room, even and robust. Graffin is an operatic sage bringing baritone gravity to the everyday man. Bentley, Brian Baker (lead guitar), and Mike Dimkich (guitar) back this up with huge harmonies and blistering guitar solos. While Baker and Dimkich stay pretty tight and studious, Bentley bounced all around the stage, apologizing to random audience members for reasons even he wasn’t sure of. Their records are classics, but seeing Bad Religion live is a must. If the Rolling Stones are any indication, we’ll have BR for another 35 golden years.
While Epitaph Records was created in the 80s as a vehicle for Bad Religion, it continues to integrate new bands and sounds. The openers Plague Vendor are young blood to Epitaph, having released their debut a year ago. They’ve been referred to as voodoo punk, which makes sense as they mix morgue rhythms, surf screamo, and cryptic howling. Lead man Brandon Blaine is possessed at the mic, convulsing, contorting, and crooning with each lyric. His throat-burning declarations fly high dipping back into deep, cult-seance. It’s reminiscent of Davey Havok’s goth project Son of Sam mixing with the Cramps.
SETLIST:
Spirit Shine
21st Century Digital Boy
Stranger Than Fiction
Along the Way
Sowing the Seed of Utopia
You are the Government
1,000 More Fools
How Much is Enough
Suffer
Delirium of Disorder
Do What you Want
The Gray Race
Billy Gnosis|
Hopeless Housewife
No Direction
Anasthesia
Skyscraper
Change of Ideas
Big Bang
No Control
Conquer the World
Sanity
Henchman
Billy
You
Struck a Nerve
Slaves
The Handshake
Infected
Generator
American Jesus
Encore:
Against the Grain
Fuck Armageddon … This is Hell
