By Frank Little

Here's to the maker,
The film double taker,
The illusion type faker.
Guaranteed shaker,
Paravision viewer.

Or it just may seem
you lost the real scope of life,
the hope of life,
to cope with life,
And found it on the screen.

And how many times have we heard that line?
Do you think I'm blind, to trade my mind for what you call fine?
Never in my time—I’m not in your movie.

Do I have a theme song?

No. But “At the Movies” by Bad Brains is certainly a contender.

I have a strange relationship with this band. Like many others of my generation, my favorite hardcore punk band is arguably the most unique of the genre. In an overwhelmingly white subculture of punk rock, Bad Brains were black. In a musical and cultural movement that defied the authoritarianism and conformity of the Reagan era, Bad Brains were ultra-religious (Rastafarians, later born-again Christians) and homophobic. Like so many others touched by artistic genius, they were complex, and often contradictory. Yet at the same time there was jubilation, a love for life, a positive mental attitude, and a creative zeal that was simply beyond inspiring, especially in their earliest work of the late 1970s and early 1980s.

They were also helped by the fact that no one—and I mean, no one—could touch them, on stage or in the studio. Forget it. Stop trying. You simply accepted that they were the reigning champions of rock, and you were fine with that. Shit man, it’s Bad Brains.

I say “were,” because for me their career was largely over after their second full-length album I Against I. It represented a major shift in style, yet maintained all their brilliance and creativity. As for what came after this album, I don’t bother.

So, “At the Movies.” It begins with an effect-drenched reggae guitar intro, then shifts into high gear with an aggressive riff. The drums come crashing in, and we’re off. Forget about trying to understand the lyrics in this one. For one thing, the first 12 or 13 lines of the song are sung in about six seconds, and I think H.R. (singer) skips about half of them. Whatever. You don’t care, because your head is swirling in the rhythm and the rage.

Then something about “stale popcorn, don’t you stand in your chair.” What the…? Never mind. After a lead guitar break that’s over before it begins comes the second verse:

A child is influenced by the make believe
To take advantage of this truth is a cold-hearted sin.
So I say to youth right now:
Don't sway to the unjust!
No matter what they say,
Never give in, never give in.

I understand this will sound corny as hell, but every time I hear these lines, my heart just moves into my throat. Half of me wants to cry, and the other half wants to start throwing chairs at walls because the energy of the music is so undeniable. I feel like I’m performing some injustice by not wrecking shit, you know? Or I want to grab anyone in the room by the shoulders and shake them, pleading “don’t you hear this? Please tell me you understand how beautiful this is!”

There are songs that make me feel like I can get up, grab the world by the throat and say “Not today, motherfucker—I’m the wrong one to fuck with.” This one is on that list.

Bio: Frank Little is very much in love, and doesn't regard much else about himself as being of real consequence.  However, he feels it is important to point out that the war is over, if you want it.