Fugazi - ‘Cashout’ from The Argument
Deconstructing Politicising Emo, Pt. 3
I
Along with Repeater, The Argument is what I would think of as an “accessible” Fugazi album, almost to the point of book-ending their catalogue of full-lengths (13 Songs is of course excellent but it’s a lot less fully-formed than its follow-up) with their two most listenable and directly engaging albums. In his One Week One Band post on this record, Thom Gibbs points to the obviously ‘poppier’ sonic elements, but what struck me initially was also the overtly, clearly political lyrics of the first song after the intro, ‘Cashout’:
“on the morning of the first eviction
they carried out the wishes of the landlord and his son
furniture’s out on the sidewalk next to the family”
He gives an interesting description of it, as MacKaye’s “descending guitar figure on first song proper Cashout sounds like the portentous chime of a news bulletin, a neat trick for a song which is a state of the nation dispatch about development and housing.” But living outside the nation in question, I’d like to think of it in somewhat broader terms. True, listening to ‘progressive’ (in both relevant senses of the word) punk rock from America in my teens did help me get a sense of the social and economic problems in the world’s leading power, especially that underbelly of capitalism which underlies the global march towards a bright neoliberal future; it also gives a sense of America as a polity with its own conflicts below the level of what is seen internationally, between presidential candidates who clash along cultural divides, chasms of ‘liberal’ and conservative ideology, while in states and cities smaller problems of money and power exist on a strong basis of subsidiarity. Yet there’s also a consequent universality to such problems - odd as they may seem initially to someone with a vision of America as country full of rich people, which is in fact merely the facet of wealth somewhat grander and less equally distributed than in most other developed countries - because everywhere in the West operates to the rule of property and the market, and have politics based on the theoretical equality of people which is undermined by any number of inherited cultural prejudices on race, gender, class or ability.
That is a shared reality - to use such a subjective construct - that stretches not only across geographical boundaries but also into our pasts, where conflicts and injustices often seem sharper and, consequently, to a mind worn down by the orthodox acceptance of what passes for life today, more vivid. Listening to the opening lines above, my mind turned to the fact that three of the members of Fugazi have Irish (or, okay, maybe Scottish) surnames: Lally, Canty and MacKaye - from a culture where eviction has become a notorious symbol of famine, depopulation and emigration. Eviction - though it still happens on occasion, and increasingly so in the climate of recession, and through a long tradition of an urban underclass too - primarily conjures up images like this for anyone who’s been through the Irish education system. Picciotto, too, has a heritage from another ‘peripheral’ part of Europe which suffered from an unequal system of landowning and added to the emigration flux towards America in the 19th and 20th centuries: emigration which, seen from the far side as immigration, became part of the founding myth of America, however that may have been curtailed or debased in recent times - but seen from the ‘old country’ such as Ireland, emigration becomes a form of eviction itself.
II
Another side of the immigration myth in America is the frequency, and expectation, of migration within and across the country: so where industry or agriculture does not provide the opportunity of employment in one area, you up sticks and find it elsewhere (assuming one is mobile enough and not ghettoised in a drug-ridden poverty trap, I suppose). Whereas if you’re ‘old country’, there’s a substantially unbroken connection to the land and culture that inhibits that kind of mobility: unless by economic or social necessity, or overarching desire, you make that choice - in Irish history there’s the intriguing commentary that political radicalism was suppressed throughout most of the past century (or two) by the effective export of the poor and disaffected, leaving behind a greater majority of those conservative and comfortable with their lot.
Except if, particularly post-independence in 1922, we were not very radical, we were still insecure. Traditionally this has been seen as being focused on property ownership, so that from the old landholding drive came a more modern house-owning one (renting being a waste of money and a subordination of the individual’s economic self-determination to that of the landlord class). Of course this just meant the landlords were replaced in the system of power first by the developers, who shovelled money into the politicians’ hands (originally the ‘men of no property’) in order to build more and more houses, and then by the banks who threw even more money at the developers to build even bigger buildings, until it came full circles and the politicians felt they had to give the taxpayers’/citizenry’s money to the banks.
“everybody wants somewhere
the elected are such willing partners
look who’s buying all their tickets to the game
development wants, development gets
it’s official”
III
I started writing this post when Seán Gallagher was at 40% in the polls for the presidential election, and was considered by many and most commentators as unassailable, barring catastrophe, and despite several quite well publicised stories about the links between the fresh new entrepreneurial face of the business-friendly Irish community and the old party of corruption, self-aggrandization and fundamentally unsustainable economics. As it happened, the catastrophe did materialise, thanks to some shady allegations from Sinn Féin (really the fact of a individual’s €5,000 donation for a fundraiser, hardly scandalous in itself apart from the connection it displayed to the party of loose financial morals), a hopelessly inadequate and devastatingly resonant (of previous corruption scandals) response from Gallagher, and a peculiar situation of an absence of poll figures and an intervening media blackout before the actual day of the ballot - which in the end almost exactly switched Gallagher’s poll figures with those of his apparently outpaced rival, handing victory to the steady campaign of Michael D. Higgins. I have my suspicions as to the genuine basis of the public’s scepticism, whether it was a reaction to the sheer effrontery of the charge and the ludicrousness of his defence, rather than a deeper concern for probity and honest progress in the political sphere. However, the upshot is that we have a new president to be inaugurated tomorrow; an emigrant, poet, student and scholar of sociology, political economy, science and philosophy, left-winger and intellectual. And that’s fucking punk rock.