For a while now, I've been seeing lots of red plaid pants, black sweaters with safety pins, and mass-produced handbags with the Sex Pistols logo emblazoned on them. I hate to say it, but punkness has become trendy. Suddenly, everyone is a fan of the Ramones and the Clash. Black Flag bumper stickers have re-emerged with a vengeance, and everyone can sing at least one line from "God Save the Queen" (although it's usually the titular line). So how come no one seems interested in new punk music? There are a number of groups around who feature punk elements: the Donnas, Green Day, the Ataris, Mars Volta, etc. (Sorry, kids, I don't count Mediocre Charlotte—they're a bit overproduced for my taste.) And for every one I can think of, there are thousands I don't know about, floating around in local clubs and cranking out great energetic music without commercial acclaim. In my book, even Wesley Willis could fall into this category. But no one seems interested in these guys as ambassadors of punk. Maybe it's because they don't really know or care what punk is about.

I'll admit it, trying to attain anything like a comprehensive view of punk music is a tricky thing. By nature, anti-establishment music thrives under the radar, and many high-minded punk bands today are committed to distributing their music without a profit. They don't care if you know who they are; making a principled stand for (or against) something is more important to them. And then there's the issue of purity of form. Many former punk types are experimenting with other types of music. A prime example is Neko Case, who has been counter-culturing the bejeesus out of country music for years now. So unless people are good listeners or particularly gifted at tracing the rhythmic ancestry of artists, they don't recognize what they're hearing as punk derived.

So why are so many unlikely people today striving to emulate that Sid Vicious sneer and stitching skull appliques onto all of their clothing? Maybe it's because they've all hired their own full-time punk consultants:

Shall I slick my hair to points? Do I modify my speech?

I shall wear plaid flannel trousers, and mosh upon the beach.

It's a little absurd—the appropriation of Outsider-dom—but I suppose it's no worse than when high school poseurs like me donned tie-dye and peace signs in hope of invoking some of the fervor and broad-mindedness of the 60s. As for the music itself, it can only be a good thing that more people are exposed to it. I'm glad that people have discovered the Clash. They're better people for it, I guarantee. But there's something about having that music removed from its original context that makes it a little less meaningful to your average Barry and Jill. What Barry and Jill seem not to realize is that punk, even in its hey-day, was never what could be described as popular. In a time of white blazers, pastel undershirts, and sockless boat shoes, it was definitely not popular to be a punk. Kids with spiked hair and "Anarchy for the UK" t-shirts were mocked mercilessly in school. Just like the Goths. Just like the skaters (who have also experienced a somewhat amnesic resurgence of popularity). Just like anyone else who expresses disdain for the mainstream culture, even if in doing so they embrace a homogeneous culture of a different sort, with its own costume and expectations. But that's a much lesser offense in my book. The initial defining of self is what's important, because eventually all these kids realize that it doesn't matter what you wear on the outside. Punk is a state of mind, and clothing is the least of the tools at your disposal for expressing it. More effective tools include embracing satire in all forms, embarking on anti-corporate campaigns, writing zines, supporting struggling artists, and volunteering to transform your community into someplace that represents your values.

But back to the issue at hand. To me, the public's recent enthusiasm for punk is just like anything else. Society rejects the phenomenon when it's new and dangerous, then later—when it's no longer in danger of accomplishing any real subversion—romanticizes it into oblivion. But that's where society is mistaken, because genuine punk cannot be castrated by commercialism. It's still there, in the alleys and clubs, in the unexpected heroic acts of individuals. It's like a superhero you can't kill. It may be forced to shed its title, but that very loss of nomenclature is what may allow it to penetrate the culture more thoroughly. In its insidiousness, it will be that much more powerful. With any luck, we'll be on our way to a punk renaissance.

And now, please bow your heads with me as we recite a few choice lines from the Dead Milkmen:

"Punk rock girl give me a chance,

Let's go slamdance,

We'll dress like Minnie Pearl,

Just you and me punk rock girl."

Tags: music, popculture