Teenage Politics

MxPx (Tooth & Nail Records)

I’m in a crappy yellow school bus in Texas with stick-to-your-skin seats. I have those over-the-head, in-ear headphones on, and I’m listening to a black cassette on my Walkman. The bus, being awash in burning sunlight, is full of the typical chaos of middle school kids in a hot bus after a long day. My headphones, playing MxPx’s sophomore album, Teenage Politics, are the only things keeping me safe from being swept up in the madness. I’m twelve and awkward and at this point I’ve never been to a “Punk Rawk Show” in my life. To be honest I’m not even completely clear on the concept. But I know for sure it’s where I would rather be instead of this bus full of kids I have nothing in common with.

Middle school is a tough time for most kids. It was especially torturous for me as a twelve-year-old nerd, before nerds were cool. On top of that, I was one of those Christian nerds who wore neon Jesus dog tags unironically and was really concerned about “secular” music, so being part of the in-crowd was never really an option. Let’s be honest here: I was the ultimate awkward legalistic “church kid” who also loved math. I was every parent’s dream and every bully’s ideal target. But “alternative” Christian music of 1995 and beyond was my refuge. Teenage Politics was my gateway drug that, many years later, led me to finally take my life choices about faith and music into my own hands.

Twelve is the beginning of that crucial transition where all of your illusions about adulthood are crushed by the biblical reality that all humans are flawed, sinful creatures. 1995 was a heady time for such revelations in the church, because it was the time that “alternative” culture in Christianity had finally gained enough steam to clash, head-on, with the more staid, traditional Christianity. This was the case in my Assemblies of God church in southeast Texas, anyway. Torn jeans? Weird T-shirts? They were the signs that the rapture was immanent. It was here that I was torn, and Teenage Politics was one of the first times I remember knowing, for sure, that the grown-ups were wrong about this one. This music was loud and these guys had weirdly-colored hair and ripped clothes, but their words cut to my heart. I could feel that the questions they asked in their lyrics were honest and heartfelt, but still I couldn’t reconcile that with the (at this point) unquestioned authority of my parents and church leaders.

MxPx’s Mike Herrera directly addresses the element of unquestioned moral and political stances that lack the Biblical backing that’s implied by their assertion in the lyrics of “I’m the Bad Guy.” These words aren’t quite artful or poetic, but they perfectly articulated my frustration with conservative evangelical Christian culture in 1995:

Legalistic people suck
Legalism makes me sick
I wonder what makes them tick?
I want to go puke on it
Ephesians verse 2:8 states
God has saved us not by works but by grace

So what’s it gonna take?
There’s no getting through to you
So what’s it gonna take?
There’s no getting through to you
I’m way too young
To have a point of view

This whole thing just bums me out
Jesus knows my heart
But you don’t care
You’ve already made up your mind
I try to change my attitude
but it’s really hard
I’m so sick of you
God is gonna pull through

Let’s be perfectly honest: this was not actual rebellion on my part. The Chrindie element of honest, raw Christianity was quickly tweaked into a form that was theologically far less rebellious but kept the rebel trappings. That stuff SOLD. And I bought into it as fully as a kid with no buying power of his own can. I was well-stocked on t-shirts that looked vaguely like popular brands but with logos that were subtly changed to have Christian messages. I bought all the tapes that did the same thing as the t-shirts but with music. I even abandoned MxPx when they mentioned in an interview that they weren’t a Christian band.

But the seed of Teenage Politics bloomed about eight years later when I finally took a hard look at my faith and realized that the “Christian media” I had immersed myself in was a separate entity from Christianity as a system of beliefs. I had gotten deep enough into smaller Christian bands that I’d stumbled back onto music that was honest with its listeners about the Biblical reality that all humans are flawed, sinful creatures. I discovered artists who didn’t feel the need to print statements of faith in their liner notes but who spoke to my soul better than any U2-aping megastar worship bands could.

I could be overstating the influence of Teenage Politics on my life, but honestly I don’t think I am. Surely there are some other artists (Joy Electric, Starflyer 59, Pedro the Lion, tons of others) who worked for a while in the Christian market and were honest with their listeners. But MxPx was the first. Listening now 20 years later, I’m still struck by how subversive this album is. It’s almost certain that in 2015 this album never would have made the impact in the Christian market that it did in the relatively-speaking wild west days of Contemporary Christian Music of 1995.

Musically, it’s a fun, anthemic pop-punk album from one of the first big pop-punk bands. Before them was obviously Green Day and The Offspring (and the Kinks and the Ramones) but MxPx made an impact before Blink 182 or Good Charlotte or Sum 41 were MTV’s next big thing. My appreciation of this album is so rooted in nostalgia that I can’t judge it objectively, but I know plenty of kids who never got close to any other Christian music of the ‘90s who remember this album fondly. In fact, when I mentioned I was writing a piece about MxPx for a collection of articles on “20-year-old Christian albums,” a few friends were convinced I was talking about some OTHER MxPx than the one they knew. Until I mentioned “Punk Rawk Show,” obviously.

It’s funny, these days I’m closer to MxPx than I have ever been. I could probably get a member of MxPx on the phone in a couple of days with some Facebook messages to old coworkers or cousins-in-law. Earlier this year, I saw Herrera open for Five Iron Frenzy at the legendary Southern California all-ages venue Chain Reaction. Hearing the entire population of the Chain sing “Punk Rawk Show” was something that, as a twelve-year-old, I thought I’d never hear. I was not the first or the only kid who listened to this album in 1995 and had his entire worldview challenged. I won’t be the last, either.

I own it on CD now, and I also have it on my tiny pocket computer where it can play through the air to the stereo on the car that I drive myself like a real human adult. I’ve got kids of my own, and my daughter will be right around the right age to really start to understand this album in just a few years. I hope it can inspire the same questions in her that it did in me; without some of the questions raised in this album, I’d never be around to answer them for her.