Bad Religion - The Dissent of Man

So! 2010 is a big year for my beloved Bad Religion. Aside from being able to spend these twelve months making reference to the song “Ten in 2010″ from The Gray Race, the band is celebrating their 30th anniversary, and doing it with aplomb: a summer tour, a free digital live album- appropriately titled 30 Years Live- a series of three shows in New York City where they’ll focus on a decade of their music each night, and of course, a new album, The Dissent of Man.

Wikipedia mentions that this is the longest Bad Religion has gone without a lineup change. Amusing, but also worth nothing for the fact that the band has remained stable since founding guitarist Brett Gurewitz rejoined the band following their major label stint. (several albums in the ’90s were released on Atlantic following the punk/alt-rock signing frenzy)

But, let’s get to the meat ‘n bones of this here record.

The album kicks off with singer Greg Graffin’s distinctive voice asking “Do you remember when/we were young, adventure had no end?” This sort of looking back has characterized the band in their 30th year. But even if they find themselves reflective, their attack hasn’t dulled at all. The music on this release is what we’ve come to expect from Bad Religion at this point, and especially in the 21st century. The record begins with “The Day the Earth Stalled” and “Only Rain,” a pair of blistering punk songs, the latter having one of the more infectious choruses the band has written.

The progression of the album feels very similar to 2007′s New Maps of Hell, in that it begins fast and furious, and then slows down to more tuneful, yet still furious, material. “The Resist Stance” made its debut on the 30 Years Live album released earlier this year, and the studio version sounds great. The electric version of “Won’t Somebody,” first heard in an acoustic rendition on the deluxe re-release of New Maps of Hell, is good, though I think that I prefer the acoustic version.

All told, there aren’t a lot of surprises here. There are no “phantasmal myriads of sane bucolic birth” lyrics here, but the lyrics here are just as concerned with the world around them as ever, just a little less dictionary-requiring. And while I love my Bad Religion dictionary, it’s nice to not have to have it on hand.

Bad Religion here have delivered another quality release, that while not shaking things up, (they tried that once, it was called Into the Unknown, enough said) shows them doing what they do best: write catchy, socially-thoughtful punk rock songs, delivered with skill and energy of people half their ages. Fans of the band should get this- as if they weren’t going to anyway- and newcomers to Bad Religion could find worse places in the catalog to start delving in.

Bad Religion - New Maps of Hell

Keeping with my Election Day theme, one more review from a band largely known for its politics. And of course, one of my personal favorite bands. Bad Religion.

(Note: wow, this is a long-ass review)

I’m also kind of sick of seeing Dead to Me so overrepresented in the tag cloud, simply because there are two reviews of theirs, as of this writing. This should balance it out a bit.

Bad Religion follow-up their critically applauded return-to-form, The Process of Belief, with the timely and topical The Empire Strikes First. While many of the songs contained their trademark calls to arms that aren’t time-specific, many of the songs here were reactions to the current state of affairs at the time of its release in 2004. Here, the band seems less concerned with igniting the populace into immediate action, and is getting back to their usual attack between the ears.

The album opens with the 58-second opener, “52 Seconds.” Yeah, I don’t know either. But it’s a furious blast of the early-’80s LA hardcore that Bad Religion has specialized in and refined so thoroughly in the nearly 30 years since they got together, and leads into the brief, but single-worthy “Heroes & Martyrs.” Actually, the first five tracks of this album are all excellent, culminating with the absolutely stellar “Requiem for Dissent.” The first time I listened to this song, I had an incredible urge to be in a pit, pumping my fist and shouting along. Anyway, the album opens with these five speedy, pounding slices of profound punk rock; exactly what I want from the most erudite aging punks in existence.

The band slows it down some with the actual single, “Honest Goodbye,” which is more reminiscent of Weezer than Bad Religion. I get some flashes back to the more alt-rock lean the band adopted around the Stranger Than Fiction era. It sticks out, but works within the context of the album.

Things kick into gear again, speeding through 8 more tracks- including the minute-long distortion-fest of “Murder”- before the album closes itself out with the relatively soft “Fields of Mars.”

The music on this album? Solid Bad Religion. Some complain that the band hasn’t really changed its style much in… well, ever. That’s not entirely true, but it’s easy to see where they’re coming from; the hurtling punk anthems from this album wouldn’t feel too out of place on most of their other albums. There’s something to be said, though, for doing it very well, which, when Bad Religion is on, they do better than just about anyone else.

As for the lyrical content, this album is the third reminder that damn, it is good to have Bretty Gurewitz back in the band. The competition between the two songwriters, while not unfriendly, I can only imagine helps the best songs rise to the top. Here we find another book of lyrics that millions of punks will pore over, reading and singing and mulling over on message boards and in their bedrooms. And of course, they’re delivered by the fantastic, instantly recognizable voice of Greg Graffin.

Not everything on the album works, of course; this isn’t 16 tracks of pure joy. Around the end, leading up to the great closer (“Fields of Mars”), things get a bit muddled. It’s not awful, but some of the tracks aren’t as distinctive.

All in all, Bad Religion has been cranking out great albums since the return of Mr. Brett back in 2001, and this is another fine example of that. Some say they should hang it up, but it’s a hard argument to make if they keep putting out material like this.

Rating: 4 stars

Bad Religion - Suffer (1987)

I’m going to start this blog with a review of an incredibly important album to any fan of modern punk rock. Well, this is less a review, since the last thing the Internet needs is another review of an undisputed classic, and more just writing on why this record is important.

Note that this is in no way objective. Suffer is my favorite record of all-time.

Previous to this 1987 release, Bad Religion were a well-known and well-liked L.A. hardcore band, but not the legends of punk they are today. They had released an excellent self-titled EP, an incredible first album (1982′s How Could Hell Be Any Worse?), and one completely out-of-left-field LP, the prog-rock Into the Unknown. During the recording of that album, the band had largely broken up. The future didn’t look bright for Bad Religion.

Come around 1986; the original members were coaxed into reuniting (reportedly, Jay Bentley had to be promised they wouldn’t play any Into the Unknown material), and they dropped the Back to the Known EP. The production was cleaner, the sound was still the hard-hitting punk they were known for, but there were… vocal harmonies? What! The release was met with much love from the punk community. A promising young band had found its way again. But no one was ready for what came next.

When Suffer was released in late 1987, it was stunning. At a time when most punk releases sounded like they had been recorded in someone’s bathroom, this sounded incredibly professional. The guitars were crisp and brutal, and FAST. Opening track “You Are (the Government)” explodes out of the gate, delivering propulsive drumming, simple yet incredible effective guitar lines, and fast, clear, and well-enunciated vocals from Greg Graffin, and backing harmonies (or as the liner notes say, “Oozin’ Aahs”) from the rest of the band. The twin guitar attack from Brett Gurewitz and ex-Circle Jerk Greg Hetson bring to mind countless circle pits ’round the globe. Bad Religion weren’t content to just stir the punk rockers physically, though; Graffin and Gurewitz, the band’s two songwriters, were pissed off at the world, and had the vocabulary to express it in an erudite way that most of their peers never came close to. At a time when most hardcore bands were content to rail against Ronald Reagan, Bad Religion wanted to write songs about bigger problems that looked beyond the scope of any single person, to the world as a whole.

Clocking in at 15 songs in under half an hour, it’s a quintessential punk record. But the quality of the presentation, and of the contents, both musical and lyrical, raised this above the rest of the stagnating scene. Fat Mike, of NOFX, has called this “the record that changed everything.” It is often credited with “saving” SoCal punk. Indeed, it’s hard to find a punk band that doesn’t claim Bad Religion as an influence.

Many of the hallmarks of this record- the clear vocals, the professional production values, the pop-influenced backing vocals- are now commonplace in punk. As a result, the importance of this record might be lost on younger generations of punk fans. But listen to other hardcore records coming out of SoCal in 1985. Then listen to Suffer. Then listen to records that came after. There’s a sharp divide. This album changed everything.