Bad Religion — Suffer

Vinyl, LP, Album, Reissue, Limited Edition, Red Clear, 2010

Here’s the thing. I spent a lot of time listening to Bad Religion when I was a junior and senior in high school. Our little garage band covered three Bad Religion songs, and I owned all of their records. I got to make a pilgrimage to First Avenue to see them the summer before my senior year.

I love them. So much. But I’d be lying if I said I understood them. Because a band this dense in political, history, and socioeconomic lyrics — sang at the speed , within the poetry of punk — isn’t something a 17-year-old future biology major is going to have room for among notes for the nitrogen cycle and genetic mathematics.

But I tried. I had a high-school senior’s knowledge of the dystopian trio of novels (1984, Brave New World, Fahrenheit 451) and I had read the inner lyrics of a few Dead Kennedy’s albums, so I really tried.

So when I heard lyrics like:

My pessimistic lines
Your superstitious lives
And the modern age’s lies won’t absolve you
And the professorial truth
And the dear clairvoyant youth
And of course the nightly news will deceive you

I thought to myself, “Hell yeah, fight the man and tear down everything!”

In action, though, I just marveled at the words. I fell in love with the wordplay, the rhythm, the fact that punk could sound smart with machine-gun wit.

And when I heard lyrics like:

Hey sit down and listen and they’ll tell you when you’re wrong
Eradicate but vindicate as “progress” creeps along
Puritan work ethic maintains its subconscious edge
As Old Glory maintains your consciousness

I thought to myself, “Fuck the government and we’re all going to die so suck it up California scum!”

But in reality, I used the songs as little mini-lessons. I learned a little bit about issues that were important, though I dove too deeply into them. I never gave myself a chance, to be honest — let’s be honest, I wasn’t at a place in my life where my activism was going to be more than drawing an X on my hand before an Earth Crisis show and being a vegetarian by eating nothing but Taco Bell bean burritos.

I wonder now if I still wander down that path — if I’m doing myself a disservice marveling at great tweets without learning every ounce of history or nuance, or if I’m being a stereotypical bandwagon jumper when I get riled up and driven to modest action for some political or social crisis, despite being nowhere near qualified enough to argue for or against it.

I wonder if I’m back in my room, vaguely following along to Bad Religion lyrics, soaking in a bit of purpose but still not grasping the larger pictures. I know it’s not good enough for the long run. But I wonder if it’s good enough for the moment.