Screeching Weasel/The Queers/Night Birds @Sonar Bmore, May 17 2012 Thursday Night

Sonar, Baltimore, May 17 2012 Thursday Night
Screeching Weasel
The Queers
Night Birds

What can I say?  I love Screeching Weasel.  When they played two years ago at the Troc in Philadelphia I was stoked to see them live.  I have fond memories of listening to Kill the Musicians nonstop through high school and college, and to this day have favorite songs from Wiggle and Anthem for a New Tomorrow.  Of course, I say all this as a fan who hasn't paid much attention to their work since Bark Like a Dog, although I do love The Riverdales and did get a copy of Ben's solo album.

If you've been keeping up with Screeching Weasel at all, you've heard about Ben Weasel's (Ben Foster's) unfortunate punching incident from last year's SXSW Festival.  Bad, bad news.  I have conflicting feelings about being a fan of a professional artist who could react so brashly.

That said, I take the unpopular stance of Alexander Pope who said, "To err is human, to forgive, divine."  Not that I have anything to forgive Ben for: he didn't punch me square in the face.  But as a figure in the public eye, we expect a certain amount of restraint maintained by our entertainers/on-stage personalities, even if they are punk rock icons.  I don't admire Foster for his mishaps; but I take it at face value that he made a mistake, for which he did apologize, and for its repercussions.

I'm grateful I live in a different world than Foster, where my shames and regrets aren't aired out publicly, and thank-goodness, virally through the internet.  Now, it is his choice to be a celebrity, to be an artist, to expose himself as a public professional.  I just empathize since the judgement bandwagon is so easy to hitch a ride onto; to write someone off for a singular action.  

We're all more complex than the sum of our pasts.  None of us grow from stewing in our regrets and we certainly don't achieve enlightenment from judgement (of others or ourselves).

(I'm not sure I am even defending Foster here so much as the idea of letting go of resentment in general.  I don't know much about him and he may be the very type of person to perpetuate what I'm trying to convey.)

Frankly, I love punk because of its opposing qualities.  It is a catalyst and an environment that allows us our anger and our individuality, our creativity and disdain.  Punk allows us a chance at redemption, I suppose, as well as our condemnation.

Alright, with that off my chest:
I was disappointed they didn't play Every Night, my favorite Screeching Weasel song.  Perhaps one of the best apology songs ever, I see it sung from the perspective of a regretful coward, someone who can't quite pull the trigger on saying "I'm sorry," though it eats at him day and night.  

It is the fantasy ballad of every girl/guy who's ever been wronged by some leather-wearing, t-shirt and jeans smartass punk.  It is the anthem for all of us who always wanted the strength to convey our mixed up feelings, but got too caught up in our own self-loathing and spat in the face of the love we longed for.

For all of us who shred the letter before we sent it, threw it away, burned it all up, or drowned it in the ocean, I give you:

Every Night

I'm not feeling human anymore

half connected all the time

Each night I document the things I've done 

The pointless points I've 

made for stupid reasons
Every night I'm always the same 
You're pounding on my brain 
Tonight, every night 
I lie down clenching up my teeth 
Trying to fall asleep 

I've sat and smoked a billion cigarettes 

And wished to hell that you were here 
My stained and calloused fingers hold a pen 
Scratching apologies to you too late too little 
Every night I pay off my debts 
Trust me I don't forget 
Tonight and every night 
I will analyze everything 
And make myself count the ways 
I fucked up today