The San Francisco Bay Guardian published a review of Pinhead Gunpowder’s Feb. 10 show at Gilman St, and the author of the piece also posted some behind-the-scenes commentary on the Guardian’s blog that says: “Having a mainstream celebrity grace Gilman’s stage flexed the politics of everyone at the club, but struck to the core of a few.”

That there was tension among some of the volunteers and members of the scene about hosting Pinhead Gunpowder at a place like Gilman St doesn’t really surprise me. In fact it surprised me a little, at first, that the reactions that came out were so overwhelmingly positive, but then again, it really shouldn’t have been unexpected, because what makes a show magical is the music and the energy, from both band and audience, and there’s no question from all accounts that just about everyone was just happy to be there and that the performance was inspiring and wonderful.

So I’m not sure if this author is unnecessarily looking for discord when he says, “On the surface, the show was a raging success. But from talking with various people involved in the club, I knew not everyone was tapping their toes.” Surely, if you’re looking for it, you can always find someone who will grouse about anything?

It’s ironic that the piece specifically mentions the mistrust that the club’s staff feels toward the Guardian, and then goes on to be the only account of the show that gets in its digs at the club and its volunteers, opening with the statement that the staff at Gilman has “an overwhelming elitist vibe” that’s “insidious in thwarting the average person from attending shows there.” Gee, I wonder why the staff was skeptical about having the Guardian cover the event?

Still, I don’t doubt the truthfulness of the account, that there was indeed tension and some negative feelings about Pinhead Gunpowder’s show tucked in among the happiness and euphoria. I don’t know anything about Gilman St first hand, only what I’ve read. But I had some experience with the underground punk scene. I was a volunteer at a DIY venue that hosted punk shows every week, along with other activist and art projects. If we were seen as elitist or surly, it was because we had to be: it was an attempt to create some armor plating. Trying to run a community effort that is completely self-sustaining, without any help from the corporate world or any business interest, and that’s kept afloat by volunteers and dedicated individuals, is a fragile proposition. There’s never enough money, things are always falling apart, people are always flaking out or squabbling. It would be so tempting to accept some kind of sponsorship, to allow some big entity with big money to come and rescue the constantly-on-the-verge-of-sinking ship. But that would defeat the purpose of having created an independent alternative to the mainstream business model. It’s a very slippery slope, and it can get confusing to decide what should and should not be accepted within the confines of the scene. Some people react by being very intransigent, sometimes with good reason and sometimes not.

Sometimes, as Robert Eggplant is quoted as saying, people “are way more committed than they should be. They take it too seriously sometimes.”

Green Day’s relationship to both the punk world and the mainstream commercial music business is complicated. I think it’s a huge credit to them that they can navigate the paradoxes and come through with their integrity intact. But it’s understandable that not everyone would be completely at ease with their choices, and that Billie Joe’s presence on Gilman’s stage might bring out some of that unease.

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