24 Year Revenge Therapy

As a punk fan, I’d been following Jawbreaker for years when in 1994 they released 24 Hour Revenge Therapy which basically announced the end of the American underground music scene as we knew it. Jawbreaker’s earliest songs- good, not great- had showed real potential and so my friend Toast and I kept buying everything they released. For me, the sign of a good band is you can’t easily label them though people tried labeling Jawbreaker pop punk, hardcore, or indie/alternative (I think now they were probably closer to classic post-punk music- they even covered the Psychedelic Furs).

In 1992, Jawbreaker (a bicoastal band who traversed between New York and California) released the Chesterfield King EP and I knew it was a game changer. Not only was singer and guitarist Blake Schwarzenbach continuing his use of free verse poetry (not very common in punk music) but the song “Chesterfield King” was light years beyond any pop punk songs of the time. I was excited to hear the band’s growth and in the spring of 1993 Toast and I went to see our first Jawbreaker show at ABC No Rio in Manhattan’s Lower East Side (for some reason we brought along a camera and a tape recorder to document the event- which we did. No one seemed to mind- including Jawbreaker.) The concert took place in ABC’s filthy subterranean basement and there were maybe 50 people in attendance.

When Jawbreaker took the “stage” they looked to be in a bad mood and opened with a catchy new song (“Do You Still Hate Me?”) that got the crowd’s attention. They then proceeded to play other catchy new songs we’d never heard before, and when they broke into “The Boat Dreams from the Hill” I was standing just a few feet away from Blake and- listening to the lyrics for the first time- I felt a thrill because I knew this song was not only amazing but the culmination of everything I ever liked about Jawbreaker.

Boat remembers the carpenter's sure hand
Missing fishy flutter on its rudder
Sold at an auction, on a dolly ever since
Sometimes rainy days drop boyish wonder 

He keeps patching it and painting
Thinking about his pension plan
But the boat is out to pasture
Seems it never had a chance 

I wanna be a boat
I wanna learn to swim
Then I'll learn to float
Then begin again 

I wanna be a boat
I wanna learn to swim
Then I'll learn to float
Then begin again
Begin again 

This was the song we always knew Adam, Blake, and Chris were capable of writing and it clearly blew every person in the audience away that drizzly May evening in New York City. Nine months later, my friend Mike and I drove an hour to buy 24 Hour Revenge Therapy and I was happy to see “The Boat Dreams from the Hill” was the opening track. A month later, Toast and I went to see Jawbreaker again- this time at Maxwell’s in Hoboken- where the trio was in much better spirits and rightfuly celebrating the release of what has become a classic album.

Jawbreaker at ABC No Rio, NYC 1993 (Photos courtesy of Toast)

They say a writer who writes about his own people, his own place, and his own time writes about all people, in all places, and in all times. Whether it’s taking jabs at the political correctness of the punk scene police, undergoing throat surgery in Europe, or experiencing the highs and lows of desire, a weary but confident Schwarzenbach dispenses with superfluities on 24 and connects directly with his audience while tossing off one great line after another: “I believe in desperate acts, the kind that make you look stupid”, “Too old not to get excited”, “I dip my toe into this cold, cold life. I want to dive, but I can’t find your feet.” Who does this NYU punk think he is- a songwriter? So does 24 still hold up 24 years later? Even after removing nostalgia from the equation I’d still say yes.

The Jean in front of Jawbreaker's van

Every song on 24 is solid, personal, honest and the album captures perfectly that moment when we all realized “the scene” was over. The excitement of pop punk had run its course, Green Day and Nirvana had become rock stars (Kurt Cobain killed himself shortly after the release of 24), and the scene was now awash with bad blood and backbiting. It was just a matter of time before a major label sucked up Jawbreaker and they either became rock stars or got spit out in the trash heap. We were all getting older, leaving home, going to college, starting jobs, and 24 felt like a goodbye party for all of us. It was as if Jawbreaker was saying to us, “See? All these years we always knew we could make a record like this. We’ve made a great album- all of us- so now let’s celebrate and go out in style- with some dignity- before the dream ends.” It ended all too soon. Grade: A

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Recommended Links:

Don’t Break Down: A Film About Jawbreaker – Trailer