. . . And Mao Makes Five

What I'm Reading:

... And Mao Makes Five: Punk Rock, Politics, and Career Advice From What We Hoped Would Be the Cutting Edge.

... And Mao Makes Five is the story of an early 1980s Minneapolis punk rock band. Co-written by the band's four members, the book mines the vast territory between youthful idealism and middle-aged accommodation. Unsurprisingly, the book leaves the reader with more questions than answers about such a vast and personal subject, but the project is infused with enough passion, insight, and (black) humor that you're left wanting to buy the MMF's Greatest Hits.

But no need to rush off to iTunes: "The closest we came to making it," confides the lead singer, "is when somebody from Prince's entourage came up to us after a show (we were the second of three warm up bands at an all-ages benefit for some charity) and said "Prince really loved your cover of [the Rolling Stone's] Paint it Black." Only problem was, a different band had played the song. And even that wasn't much of a chance -- the other band never made it, either. And they had a lot more talent."

The band's name was evidence of its ambition: to build on the musical and political legacy of legendary British band the Gang of Four. A lofty goal, completely unachieved. As a result, the band's members spend the following 25 years figuring what to do with their ambition, their idealism, in short, their lives. Much of the musing has that bittersweet "Reality Bites" self-parody. Is it selling out to work at Barnes and Noble? The guitarist goes through his mental checklist: "Working at soulless multinational. Check. Undermining community and environment through huge box store. Check. But I love books. And can it count as selling out when I make nothing? Can I undo the damage through employee theft? If so, is it more revolutionary to steal "The Making of the English Working Class" than, say, an issue of Blender?"

Ultimately, though, the book seems headed for a rather bleak end. "Today, every progressive act immediately becomes part of a marketing plan. In fact, advertising agencies have time to sit around and think of faux-revolutionary acts, to which we all immediately subscribe, not because we're stupid, but because we are desperate to feel that we're part of something bigger, and more meaningful, than our small, short lives." As befits any band, the darkest assessment comes from bassist: "We now live in a world where the gestures that seem most authentic are backward-looking and destructive, such as fundamentalist movements. Action itself seems antithetical to survival, because everything we do uses resources and contributes to climate change. If we're really killing the planet, can any band be revolutionary when the act of creating or consuming music undermines the material bases for human life?" I'm not quite through the book, so maybe the World Social Forum will appear to lift everyones' spirits . . .