Song of the Week: Waiting Room
I am a patient boy
I am the least punk Gen X person you might ever meet.
A pleaser. Conformist. Not a ruffler of feathers, in fact, I will go to comical lengths to avoid feathers altogether. I am the inverse of James Dean: a man with a cause and very little rebellion. No tattoos. Vanilla. Patently uncontroversial. I grew up with privilege galore. Two great, attentive parents who did well financially. I wasn’t Prom King but I did fine socially in high school. Fantastic, supportive friends. A white Mormon kid in a white Mormon community. I didn’t have much to rage against, though I still dabbled with a certain amount of what I now recognize as depression and anxiety (which can express itself in angst) that, at the time, was tempered by the fact that I was much better, then, at exercising A LOT between basketball and cross country and just general teenage boy activity that helped my endorphins keep those things more at bay.
So, yeah, I didn’t gravitate towards the world of punk, certainly not the aesthetic (as a befreckled, gangly redhead who wanted nothing more than to NOT stick out) but also very little of the actual music.
My meaningful intersections with punk music were few and far between. I will sheepishly tell you that my breakthrough moment, my gateway to starting to like The Ramones was hearing Jordan Catalano1 sing “I Wanna Be Sedated” during a party scene in the underrated one-season teen drama My So-Called Life2. I stumbled into seeing Face To Face randomly one Saturday night in a free outdoor concert at Liberty Park. When Green Day exploded, I never bought an album(though I would, under duress3, always say that their song craft was tight and that I liked at least one part of every song they released, and I did teach my guitar students of that era a lot of Green Day4). I didn’t buy a Clash album5 until the early 00s, found myself shocked that The Clash didn’t sound anything like The Ramones or Green Day. Where were the fast-and-crunchy distorted chords?Yes, for years, I misguidedly thought punk was a hyper-specific sound (fast-and-crunch distorted chords) Likewise, I shamefully never even heard6 The Minutemen until about 8 years ago and was shocked, SHOCKED, I tell you, that they also sounded nothing like that very narrow definition of what I thought punk music was. In a good way, though. I love their classic album Double Nickels On The Dime now. Hearing Minutemen for the first time was a lot like when I first heard The Grateful Dead—the music of the Dead didn’t sound ANYTHING like I thought they’d sound like after seeing all their skeleton-and-roses iconography had led me to believe they would. I was expecting Iron Maiden and found….not Iron Maiden in the least. Minutemen were way less…angry? distorted? primal? than I had anticipated.
All of this to say: my punk bona fides are neither punk nor bona fide. I am very much a tourist in the world of punk. Map unwieldily in hand, souvenir bag over my shoulder, eager eyes.
The lone punk album I bought in high school was Fugazi’s 13 Songs. How does a guy who wasn’t really feeling it when it came to Green Day or Rancid or The Offspring or Bad Religion….how does that guy land on one of the most indie, DIY punk bands ever?
Even today, when my taste is broader and more well-rounded7 and I love The Clash and The Ramones and Minutemen, Fugazi is a hardcore outlier in my music collection8. I don’t regularly put on many of their peers/contemporaries, if ever. Here’s a handful of acts that Spotify’s algorithm associates with Fugazi:
The only artists above that I can honestly say I play regularly are Dinosaur Jr. and Minutemen. I know I’m “supposed” to love and revere the others, but I couldn’t name9 one Black Flag or Descendents song without googling it.
Fugazi came to me when my friend Adam, who wasn’t known for his punk fandom either, introduced me to two songs and I was instantly hooked: “Bad Mouth” and “Waiting Room.”
Looking back with decades of perspective, one of the reasons I loved Fugazi at first listen, unlike some of the other punk at the time (or ever), is that their songs have a broader palette of influences and inputs than a lot of the more straightforward, 3-chords-at-100-MPH punk. That stems from trace influences of reggae and dub10 in Fugazi’s groove-heavy (not a word you’d associate with a good chunk of punk music) songs as well as the guitarists doing far more than just speed-chugging power chords, instead you hear the angular, sharp, staccato11 stylings and interweaving postpunk guitar12, as well as embracing some minimalism in not playing full-throttle on every single measure of a song. When you hear people raving (as they should) about Fugazi, it usually starts13 (and often ends) with the two frontmen/guitarists, Ian Mackaye and Guy Piciotto, who certainly deserve any praise they get. But the rhythm section, Joe Lally on bass and Brendan Canty on drums (one of my favorite rock drummers ever), is what truly sets Fugazi apart from their peers. Those two are sooooo in sync and approach their parts with groovy creativity, jazz-like sophistication and dynamics, but also a (repeating myself for emphasis) funk-like feel—all things that I wouldn’t call hallmarks of your standard 80s/90s punk.
When Adam14 and I were auditioning drummers for our band in the late 90s, we’d drive up to some guy’s house, set up our gear in his basement, and play through a handful of our songs, the drummer adding his touch to them. An hour15 or two later, we’d pack up, thank the guy, and tell him we’d be in touch (not that it was some coveted honor to play with us). On our drive back home, we’d debrief on each drummer—strengths, weaknesses, likes, dislikes, references, influences. I remember two particular aspects the most: 1) Adam was a far better gauge of who was fundamentally a good drummer and who was not, in part because his sense of rhythm was/is far superior to mine16, and 2) I almost always lamented that we couldn’t find someone “as creative as the guy in Fugazi17.” (This was probably unfair.)
See, most drummers, upon hearing our songs, would fall into a standard rock drum part18. BASS-SNARE / BASS-BASS-SNARE. That’s where Adam’s ear for groove and swing and tightness came in handy because, for my part, I’d feel uninspired, like “even if you fail, just try something different, man.” My feeling was I’d rather have a drummer who would experiment and fail than the guy who played a generic beat. Fugazi spoiled me.
Today I listened to 1989’s 13 Songs (the tape I bought with “Waiting Room” and “Bad Mouth”, among others, on it) and, guess what, I was totally right about the eliteness of the Lally/Canty bass/drums combination.
You might not do this and that’s ok, but for those of you who are curious: go listen to each song (even just the first minute) and hear how different the drums and groove are on every single song (and that’s just their debut record, to say nothing of their entire catalog). Canty’s creativity feels endless and improvisatory. Lally and Canty add so much touch (restraint, even) to the songs. It’s not the angry ape of Dave Grohl (Nirvana, Scream) Or the furious and flashy Travis Barker (Blink 182). Or the clean hyper speed of Bill Stevenson (Descendents, Black Flag). With a standard, competent drummer and bassist, Fugazi could just be another solid political/activist, anti-corporate DIY band, but Lally and Canty gave guitarists Picciotto and Mackaye the best foundation in all of punk music and that elevated everything about the band. And this was just the first album19…
So…”Waiting Room.”
Iconic bass riff. One of two songs20 I play whenever I pick up a bass. It could absolutely be a reggae song’s bassline, a fact cemented by hearing the rhythmic ticks on the up-beat by the guitar, telegraphing the traditional reggae feel in the intro.
And then the guitars and drums come in. The guitars chug. But the drums have little ticks on the up-beats, again implying the reggae feel without going all the way there.
The lead singer of the band Quicksand, Walter Schreifels, astutely observed, "everything that's great about Fugazi is spelled out within the first verse and chorus of ‘Waiting Room.’” I couldn’t agree more. At that point, either you’re in or you’re out. If that doesn’t do it for you, it’s not for you. But if it does, like me, you’re gonna rewind the tape a billion times to listen to “Waiting Room” back to back to back to billion back.
The only reservation I initially had was the production on the background vocals (by Guy Picciotto), how they sound weirdly processed. But I eventually came around and now I love the way Guy plays the role of hype man, a la Flava Flav, to MacKaye’s Chuck D.
MacKaye’s lyrics are, according to a book I’m currently reading, Michael Azerrad’s Our Band Could Be Your Life, “about carefully getting one’s ducks in a row.” MacKaye had a bad experience with his previous band and was determined not to repeat his mistakes21. I love that, in a genre that’s often defined by speed and impetuousness and reckless youth, Fugazi’s opening salvo is about taking time to do something right. (And with Fugazi, he sure did.)
Lastly, I’ve gotta share this YouTube video of some Ohio kids from a School of Rock program covering “Waiting Room.” They kill it. And they’re having the time of their life, the girls dancing like it’s some hip hop banger, everyone playing it with the joy and passion you normally see reserved for gigantic radio songs, the lead singer growling with a conviction and abandon that would make MacKaye proud. She even mentions that it’s their last song, which I find to be unbearably rad when their set included songs by more-obvious closers like Queen and The Rolling Stones.
Yes, played by a young Jared Leto of Thirty Seconds To Mars “fame” (he’s also an Oscar winner, to be fair). I fully yearned to be mysterious and dreamy like Jordan Catalano.
And….I was 100% more in the mold of the socially awkward, pretty smart neighbor boy Brian Krakow.
Not all that unlike how I first heard and fell in love with the great spiritual “Go Tell It On The Mountain” on an episode of perhaps the whitest tv show ever, Little House On The Prairie.
And, not under duress, will regale you with my story about meeting Green Day frontman Billie Joe Armstrong backstage at an AFI concert at Roseland Ballroom.
Also 311 and Collective Soul and Dave Matthews Band.
London Calling, of course.
At least give me credit, though, for spending my hard-earned cash on Mike Watt’s cameo-filled solo debut Ball-Hog or Tugboat? in 1995. Yes, I mostly bought it because of a glowing Rolling Stone review and because of its endless list of grunge era cameos (Eddie Vedder of Pearl Jam, 2/3—3/4 if you count Pat Smear—of Nirvana, J Mascis of Dinosaur Jr, Henry Rollins of Black Flag, Meat Puppets, Sonic Youth, Flea of Red Hot Chili Peppers, Evan Dando of Lemonheads, 2/3 of Beastie Boys, Mark Lanegan of Screaming Trees, Dave Pirner of Soul Asylum, Frank Black of Pixies, Stephen Perkins of Jane’s Addiction, future Wilco guitarist Nels Cline, and tons more).
Check out this video of Watt playing on The John Stewart show, backed by Grohl on drums, and Eddie Vedder & Pat Smear on guitars. (Grohl even plays lead guitar on a later song as Sunny Day Real Estate drummer and future Grohl enemy William Goldsmith takes over on drums.) Foo Fighters OPENED this tour.
I put on Ball-Hog or Tugboat? today as I was writing this and have to admit that I get it way more now than I did in 1995 when I was TRYING to love it, but didn’t have the context for what was going on. The punk roots. The avant-jazz roots. The noise rock roots. The evolution from Watt’s previous bands, Minutemen and fIREHOSE. I didn’t have to try at all this time. Sometimes art appreciation is more about intersection with your life than any other factor.
I didn’t say “deeper” just a bit wider.
Sometimes I feel sad for kids today that don’t have a music “collection.” Sure, they’ve got all kinds of playlists and “Liked Songs” but that’s not a collection, a thing curated with time and care and money.
Testing myself. Can I name a song off the top of my head by the others? Let’s do this:
Sonic Youth: Teenage Riot, Sugar Kane. Off to a good start.
Slint: Ah man, so much for the good start, but I do know the album Spiderland is important?
Bad Brains: I Against I (phew)
Minor Threat: I feel like they have a song that’s the same as the band. (Fact check: correct, phew again)
Dead Kennedys: I hate to admit that I had them mixed up with Dead Milkmen, lol…
Gang of Four: I got nothing. Crap. I am only 50% here. Got some punk homework to do.
Wipers: Another whiff. I had them confused with The Groundhogs, who I’d listened to thanks to a Stephen Malkmus interview. 3/7 now…
The Breeders: CANNONBALL, BABY! Call me basic all you want. But I know (and love) that one. I did listen to Pod all the way through last year after an episode of 90 Songs That Explain The 90s. We’re back to 50%.
Hüsker Dü: ha….cringe face….no dice. I can name some Sugar songs? 4/9
Mudhoney: Overblown, Touch Me I’m Sick. 50% again!
Meat Puppets: Backwater, Lake of Fire, Plateau, Oh Me (this is a band I’ve wanted to do a deep dive on for a long time) 6/11
Hum: I am…familiar?…with the song “Stars” and its influence on alt-rock, but I put it on today and it was totally….unfamiliar? Back to 50%…
Sunny Day Real Estate: Seven. Do I get extra credit for knowing songs from side project The Fire Theft? No? 7/13
Death: Oh, my cursory glance registered these guys as Suicide (from whom I only know one song). No clue. Sigh. Back to 50%.
Agent Orange: I can only name “Bloodstains” because I used to play Tony Hawk Pro Skater with my brother Andy, where I also learned Motorhead.
Wire: Now this is really shameful, especially as a fan of Wire-influenced bands R.E.M. and Interpol.
So, fine, I overestimated my knowledge of Fugazi’s peers by quite a bit. I suppose it just proves my “tourist in punk” point all the better.
Also present in Bad Brains and other bands, I know!
Dare I say “funk-influenced”? I do dare. Gang of Four was funk-influenced. And Fugazi was Gang of Four-influenced so it all makes sense.
Also present in Gang of Four, I know!
It also frequently starts with how Fugazi never bowed to The Man. It was impressive. I won’t go into it here. But it was admirable and you can google just how anti-corporate and DIY Fugazi really was if you’re interested.
Remember? The guy who introduced me to Fugazi.
Sometimes less, if the guy was iffy.
There was a guy in the SLC/Provo music scene who I love and, whenever our bands would play together, I would have him come onstage and play some tambourine with us because I just adored his energy and enthusiasm. He would wave the tambourine around like his life depended on it, like he was playing the shreddingest guitar solo ever shredded. For my part, I never noticed whether he was actually on the beat or not until one time, after a show at Velour, our drummer Pat, upon hearing my enthusiasm that Tambourine Guy had joined us, remarked, “…uh, let’s just say his enthusiasm doesn’t quite make up for his lack of rhythm.”
I had no idea.
I didn’t know his name then. Sorry, Brendan. You’re the best. If it makes you feel any better, I couldn’t pronounce Ian Mackaye correctly until, like, four years ago and still am not confident I’ll ever pronounce Guy PIccioto’s name right.
Yes, I accept the possibility that it could’ve been the songs that didn’t inspire anyone to do anything beyond the standard beat. EXCEPT that we occasionally jammed with some great drummers (this one guy named Austin Booth was unreal but “too busy” to join another band) who brought so much creativity to the songs that I knew it was possible.
Tied with 13 Songs for my favorite Fugazi album, 2001’s The Argument is incredibly great and such a showcase for Lally and Canty.
Listen to the funky drums on “Cashout” under guitar parts that are anything but funky, more slithery and brooding and mildly drone-y, but somehow it works.
Or the pseudo-metronomic drum part on “Life and Limb” that simultaneously feels grounding while also adding to the frantic-ness of the guitar part. Same with the bass. Lally grounds the song while also keeping up and adding to the tension.
Or try the atmospheric, jazz-inflected understated groove of “The Kill”, with Canty keeping things moving while Lally pings between solid groove and experimental spaciness.
Or…does the intro of “Ex-Spectator” feel like it’s leading into a punk song to you? Not at all. It’s like this pseudo-Latin fakeout before the slashing guitars come raging in.
The title track “Argument” is a good example of Canty not always needing to innovate or mess with convention. It’s a straightforward BASS SNARE / BASS BASS SNARE beat, because that’s what works best for the song. But of course Canty’s drum fills aren’t just standard big dumb rock n’ roll fills. Check out the high-hat bass stuff that starts at 2:27. Interesting but not calling attention to itself.
“Hey Joe” by Jimi Hendrix is the other.
But I don't sit idly by / I'm planning a big surprise / I'm gonna fight for what I wanna be
And I won't make the same mistakes / Because I know how much time that wastes
First, everyone wanted to be or be with Jordan Catalano.
Second, Face to Face at Liberty Park! I saw them multiple times when I lived in California. Would have loved to catch them in nature.
Third, I recently read a profile of the band Turnstile in which the bassist mentions taking lessons from Joe Lally!
Fourth, in high school I suffered from punk imposter syndrome because I couldn’t get into Minor Threat but really loved Fugazi. I thought I was too soft, but I’m just a sucker for melody.