Dillinger Four – Versus
God
Hopeless, 2000
Acquired: Mississippi Records, Used, 2013
Price: $4
One of my favorite places to eat in Minneapolis was Town
Hall Tap. I always wanted to go to Town Hall Brewery, but it was downtown and I
fucking hated going downtown. Not even for locally brewed beer. And then I
found their little outpost taproom like ten blocks from our house and anytime
Jenny couldn’t decide on what she wanted for dinner, I would just end up
driving us over there. I highly recommend the fried chicken sandwich, it is
unbelievable. So is their Masala Mama IPA. Plus all beers are served as 20 oz
imperial pints and affordable. This
weekend a lot of people asked us if we missed MPLS, and both Jenny and I shared
the same response: “Not really. Just the food.” And the beer. And the fact that
I lived in the same town that birthed Dillinger Four, one of my all-time
favorite punk bands.
I equally hated going to Cedar Riverside, but I got a little
chill every time I drove past the Triple Rock Social Club on my way to the
Cedar or the colossal clinic we went to for our first prenatal visits. “That’s
Eric from Dillinger Four’s bar!” I would tell Jenny and she would say “I don’t
know what that means.” I’m sad I never attended a show there. Anyway, Dillinger
Four are near and dear to my heart. I played their third album, Situationist Comedy, to death my last
year of high school and I feel like my sarcastic brand of left wing politics
was forged by the Versus God track
“Let Them Eat Thomas Paine” (Tell me are the colors of the flag much prettier
to see/ When viewed from the requisite comfort of the knees/ Were a loyal
little chorus still singing out ‘please’/ I can’t understand/ Don’t tread on
me” and “Where taxes paid is like a spade to a dog with a thrift store bone”
are just a couple of my favorite lines). This is the shit that was vital. Eric Funk’s nasal vocals were
about the most unsingery thing I had ever heard and Paddy’s gruff barking was
the second most unsingery thing I had ever heard. And their vocal exchanges
were just the fucking best. They still are. This is party music with a brain.
Music to blare as society crumbles.
I read something on the Internet that said one’s musical/cultural
taste is basically decided by the time they are 14 years old. That sounds like
bullshit, but I can’t argue too much considering how much I still love the
stuff I loved when I was 16, 17, 18. I have done very little “I loved that so
much in high school” lately. You know, when you try to act like your tastes are
so much more refined because you’re no longer listening to pop punk and The
National is music for adults. I did that a lot in my mid-twenties, but now at
the back half I’m settling into the shit I just fucking love unapologetically.
Big, booming, bratty, hilarious punk rock in the case of D4, who’s brainy and
comical Midwestern socially charged dogma is something I still very much adhere
to. As they say on "How Many Punks Does it Take to Change a Lightbulb?", "I guess that the more things change the more they stay the same."
"Let Them Eat Thomas Paine"
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