- Street Dogs
Savin Hill
Crosscheck Records
By Jud Block
 Punk
is dead. That Nietzschean edict has been hovering like a desperate
childhood desire over the latter twentieth century's most important
musical development ever since the Sex Pistols, The Clash, Black
Flag, and the Dead Kennedys became more of a fashionable name
drop or product adornment than the soundtrack for anarchy. But
despite the best efforts of puddle-deep hipsters and marketing
drones, punk didn't die; in fact, it simply followed the course
of most everything in life outside of Fundamentalists and inanimate
objects - - it evolved. The musicianship became better, the overall
sound tightened and, in many instances, the production improved.
It was still very much rooted in the classic punk sound and attitude
- - it just cheated extinction by adapting. Ain't nothing wrong
with that.
Now in all honesty I am an aging punk rocker - - reached the
Age of Glory this year and am proud to report I have managed
to escape crucifixion so far - - and I am fond of that raw DIY
sound. The feedback from a slightly out-of-tune pawnshop guitar
and the sometimes overpowering low end of a bass with strings
so loose they seem to about to fall off does give me a rush that
might only be comparable to the aftereffects of Halloween night
when I was five. So there is a lot of so-called "punk"
music out there that I do find to be an insult to the genre -
- a little too over-produced with lyrics that are obviously nothing
more than accelerated bubble-gum pop - - but there are also a
lot of good new bands that remain true to the roots of punk rock.
And Boston's own Street Dogs is a shining case in point.
On their debut disc, Savin Hill, which is named for
a blue collar area of their hometown, the Street Dogs straddle
the line between old school and new school punk and even throw
in a little good ol' rock 'n' roll and a traditional-sounding
Irish pub singalong just for the hell of it. Led by the Dropkick
Murphys' former - - and in my opinion only - - lead singer, Mike
McColgan, the Street Dogs roar through 15 tracks with a sound
and tenacity that has more than a slight resemblance to another
blue collar group of rebels from Old England known as The Clash.
Social commentary, odes to fallen comrades, and songs about hell-raising,
drinking and fighting all presented with choruses so catchy you'll
want to grab a pint of stout and sing along until you pull a
vocal cord.
"Fighter," the fourth track on the disc, is one
of the most inspiring musical eulogies you are probably ever
going to hear. It is obviously about a personal friend of the
band's who even though he was dying never let that detract from
his enjoyment of life. Instead of being melancholy or depressing,
this song is more of a Clarion call to make the most of the time
we're given and to never give in no matter what the odds.
This is an ode to a man
Who spent his whole life in a fight
Never getting cold alone at all
Or ducking from our sight
Our eulogy for him is clear
We know just what to say
Kenny Walls he was a fighter
Right up to his passing day
Ever been in a situation where no matter how civil you're
attempting to be or how many chances you've given someone, they're
simply determined to force your hand into a physical confrontation?
Negotiation can only accomplish so much, then it's time for "Justifiable
Fisticuffs." It's just a simple song about Newton's Third
Law.
We passed the point of argument
The tension fills the air
I try to mediate diplomatically
But you don't even care
It's time to work them up
And throw them down
Make this squall
Go round to round
Have a row, time to throw
Can't see nothing but red
But considering the current sociopolitical climate, "Don't
Preach To Me" has got to be the most satisfying song on
the disc. With movie, TV and music celebrities voicing their
skewed versions of liberal opinion at every given opportunity,
it's refreshing to hear a dissenting take on the infotainment
media's much too publicized position. And I know it's disturbing,
Janeane, but freedom of speech does work both ways.
Take your soapbox rants
And your politics
Stick them where the sun don't shine
We'll solicit your advice
You're on the red carpet
Espousing your opinion
Why can't you just shut your mouth
Don't tell us how to feel
Savin Hill is unadulterated Irish Boston punk 'n' roll.
If you long for the days of Stiff Little Fingers or if you think
The Business is the end-all make-all of modern punk, then you'll
find the Street Dogs well worth a raised fist. Punk isn't dead;
it just keeps getting better.
Tie a flannel around your waist, put a few extra band buttons
on your biker jacket, and pogo over to www.street-dogs.com to
pick up your copy of a disc that'll restore your faith in punk
rock. Oi.
Contact Jud Block at jud-at-rockzilla.net
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