A Punk Survey – Part VII

To people of a certain age, compilations, or more commonly referred to as “comps”, were a key part of getting into punk.  It was an extension of those mix CDs your cool cousin or friend would make, giving you little clues as to what music to listen to. I think of my first year attending Warped Tour and getting their compilation for free, and then importing it into my iTunes library when I got home that night. While I may not have found my favorite band on that particular compilation, it was an essential tool as I was slowly developing my musical taste. This Punk Survey is a love letter to comps, along with some thoughts about one Chicago punk comp in particular.

Let’s Go Back to 2003

In 2003, Chicago punk exists at an interesting crossroads. 90s punk has already “broke” long ago, with bands like Blink-182 and Green Day proving the major label viability. But, we had yet to see the rampant major radio play that propelled local bands like Fall Out Boy, Rise Against, The Academy Is, and Plain White T’s to huge success. Some bands like Alkaline Trio had already graduated from playing shows at Fireside Bowl and were trying to make viable major label records, a la Good Mourning. Alkaline Trio’s contemporaries, The Lawrence Arms, were a few years away from their peak and breakout hit, Oh Calcutta! This is just to speak of the big “tentpole” bands that people who were divorced from “the scene” we’re aware of. You also concurrently had Chicago cult favorites, The Arrivals, who already had a split, an LP, and a record released.

This is all a preface to say Oil, a compilation released by Thick Records, could have only happened in 2003. It’s a product of its time in the best way possible. Every band existed on different continuums, but–due to a confluence of factors–happened to converge at a particular moment in time. The liner notes sum it up better than I ever could:

“The idea is to document the diversity of Chicago’s flourishing independent ‘punk’ community, and parallels of the cities varied industry in all its grit and glory.”

This is the goal of any good compilation after all, providing a snapshot of what was happening in a music community at any given time.

It is astounding the sheer amount of notable artists that were involved, contributing original songs. You move seamlessly within the first two tracks from Rise Against to Haymarket Riot, who the latter can still be seen playing 100-capacity venues to this day. Or you have Bob Nanna, contributing the compilations closing track, a sparse acoustic song with some light percussion ricocheting across the mix.

The story behind Oil is as compelling as any of the tracks that made the record. It’s as pure an expression of the punk ethos. A series of incremental decisions cascaded into something that would have sounded preposterous as an original pitch. Initially, the idea was just to put a compilation of all new standalone tracks, as a follow up to a compilation called Magnetic Curses, which was released in 2000. This brought up new roadblocks such as working around touring schedules and younger bands not being able to afford recording time. The only workaround was to rent out a warehouse, where you could create a makeshift recording space. In this case, the makeshift studio happened to be an oil factory, which Pat of The Matics happened to work at.  What started out as a simple compilation became a multimedia project, interviewing even the factory workers, all while recording 19 bands in 15 days.

Oil highlights one of Thick Records strongest qualities, which was artistic design. It’s one of those nebulous phrases or qualities that people can take for granted. Artists and labels become canonized by just one lasting image. Think about Converge’s classic Jane Doe logo, or even the typeface of Deathwish Records. It adds a character that exists beyond the music. Thick Records, on every release, has a post-industrial or almost steam-punk vibe. Even though the music wasn’t always uniform, veering from ska punk band Blue Meanies to the pop punk of The Methadones, who fit within that nebulous phrase of “Ramones-core”, there was still a thread that can be connected throughout every release.

Comps Meet Their Replacements

What’s always been attracting to punk is the freeness, the lack of boundaries. All it takes is that first step, no matter how anxiety ridden it can be. There is a “fuck it” attitude that underlies so many of our favorite records and labels. The little quirks that were mistakes or coincidences at the time give it character and underlie the feeling of artistic expression, not caring about perfection. The Lawrence Arms, for example didn’t have a fleshed out, ready-to-record version of “Joyce Carol Oates is a Boring Old Biddy.” They were still rehearsing as Bill from Thick Records explains in a wonderful interview. All that matters in the end is that the music exists, for the world to consume for long after, hopefully offering someone a peak into a community that is long gone.

Even at the time, compilations were already dwindling down in their utility. The mid 2000’s brought about the age of file sharing, with MP3s available for download. CDs were no longer viable as the primary revenue for record labels. As Noisey states in an article about comps, “Epitaph, which had reaped the highest level of success off the fad—selling more than two million copies in the Punk-O-Rama series—ended the flagship series in 2005 with its tenth edition” (2017). Oil, when it was originally released, was nostalgic for a time that was long gone.

Fourteen years later, music streaming brings a whole other set of complications. People are even less likely to buy physical media. You don’t even need to attract viruses via Limewire to have any music within your grasp. All it takes is a subscription to Spotify or you can even work around that, streaming exclusively via YouTube or Bandcamp. The cost-benefit analysis is uneven, foring compilations to become a novelty. All of the invisible labor of creating a truly memorable comp is still there for the curator. You still need to find bands who are willing to contribute and pay for studio time. Maybe all the effort will be for not, as someone will likely just pass over the comp for the litany of releases that come every Friday.

This is not to say comps are obsolete and useless. There were several comps that I purchased this year that felt unique to me. I can think of two Chicago comps in particular. Better Yet Podcast had a tribute to Wilco’s Yankee Hotel Foxtrot that had all proceeds go towards The Aids Foundation of Chicago. It featured several Chicago “heavy hitters”, such as Meat Wave, Slow Mass, and Ratboys doing their takes on seminal Wilco songs. Also, there was We Heart BML, a benefit compilation to help aid with Brandon Michael Lee with medical bills, who was a fixture in the Chicago and Philly DIY scenes. It included locals Good Brother, Options, Pet Symmetry, and too many other indie-punk bands to name. These were both well curated and intentional, going towards a good cause, along with adding depth to each artist’s discography, whether it be a B-side or a cover.

Covers in particular can help uncover or highlight why certain bands are so appealing. Dave Collis, of Slow Mass, has admitted that he doesn’t even like Wilco on Better Yet Episode 132. But, Mercedes and Dave’s vocals are so compelling that you become compelled to follow them on the 4-and-a-half minute journey. It highlights something that was already apparent on their debut, On Watch. They can move between soft and intimate to loud and brash with ease, making it seem like these shifts are effortless, which is one of the hardest feats to pull of in all art. Without the All Of God’s Money tribute comp, that realization wouldn’t have become apparent.

But, Oil is a reminder of a time long gone when CDs reigned supreme. Every purchase was an investment. There was no worse feeling than spending ten dollars on something that you do not enjoy. For teenagers, that might be their only purchase for a months time. A compilation was the cost-effective choice. You got to have a sampling of countless bands. Even if you didn’t like the first track, maybe the next three or four would lead to a whole bevy of discoveries.