Interview with ... And Mao Makes Five bassist Anders Helgen (part I)

Interview with ... And Mao Makes Five bassist Anders Helgen (part I)

Based on my review of their new book, "And Mao Makes Five: Punk Rock, Politics, and Career Advice From What We Hoped Would Be the Cutting Edge," MMF member Anders Helgun contacted me and graciously agreed to be interviewed by Kicking Up a Fuss. Here is part I:

KUF: Let's start with a little bit about you - What do you do now?

AH: As little as possible, really. Preferably at home. Actually, preferably on the couch in the living room at home.

KUF: Is there a name for that profession?

AH: If it's not too politically incorrect, I'd call it a bum.

KUF: Anything you'd like to share with the class about how income is generated on the couch in the living room at home?

AH: Not really, no. Certainly not if law enforcement has access to your blog (laughs).

KUF: We seem to have started off on the wrong foot. How about something a little less contemporary - How did you come up with the name "And Mao Makes Five"?

AH: It's the name of a book. I mean, not our book, an old book, from 1978, by Raymond Lotta. At the time, this is 1981, we knew very little about what had happened or was happening in China. We loved the Gang of Four, the band, and we knew that there was a political grouping of some kind in China called the Gang of Four. We knew that the Gang of Four, both the band and the Chinese group, that both Gangs were associated with revolution. We didn't know much, but we knew we wanted to make revolution. Anyway, there used to be a radical bookstore on the West Bank, near the U [University of Minnesota]. A couple of us were there one day, and Ceac [MMF drummer Cecilia Bjorstrom] found this book called "And Mao Makes Five." Some kind of defense of the True Revolution in China, Mao and the Gang of Four versus Deng Xiaoping. So, I guess we were like, that'd be a cool name for a band: radical, an homage to the Gang(s) of Four.

KUF: The Gang of Four are associated with the Cultural Revolution, and the Cultural Revolution is pretty reviled ...

AH: Yeah, if we'd become famous, it'd be a public relations problem. Like being in a band called Anthrax in 2001.

KUF: Yet you named the book after the band that was named after the people who led the Cultural Revolution.

AH: Very meta - and we're in a meta-age, no? I don't what else we would have named the book, because that failed band experience is what brought the four of us together. I guess we could have consulted a brand consultant, renamed ourselves Altria or Novartis or something.

KUF: Why did you decide to write a book?

AH: Because blogs are lame, and you can't make money off them?

KUF: I'm sensing hostility . . .

AH: Basically, we've all kind of stayed in touch, and a couple of years ago, we were like, "whoa, soon it'll be 25 years since we formed the band. What the hell happened? What does it all mean?" It's our midlife crisis, but instead of a red Corvette, we made a book.

KUF: Has the book helped with the midlife crisis?

AH: Not yet - it hasn't made any money.

KUF: Not to bring up a delicate topic, but through a process of, perhaps gradually, not spending all your time on your couch, you might find a number of ways to make money ...

AH: I will get off the couch to make revolution, not money.

KUF: So you're, what, holding a couch-in for world revolution?

AH: Sometimes I think - can't the fascists take over Spain again and I could join the resistance, and die an honorable death fighting for something good and pure? This death by a thousand cuts stuff, where you do good by attending endless meetings, or pretend to do good by blogging to people who already agree with you, it's not me. I was born in the wrong time. But there's no alternative to the meetings - walking in to my local Citibank branch and offing a bunch of low-level mandarins before being gunned down myself is not death with honor. It's not revolutionary. It's not even interesting.

KUF: Isn't that progress of a sort, to replace the need for violent systemic change with the possibility of peaceful evolution ...

AH: Certainly, because chaos has proven an unstable platform on which to build the New Society. To take the Cultural Revolution, a lot of people involved in it, especially in the early stages, they really were radicals, more radical, I think, than the people in the streets during the Prague Spring, for instance. But the PLA [People's Liberation Army] got involved, and there really was chaos. A lot of the chaos came from above, most of the killing came from above, from the army and government trying to stop something radical from happening and threatening their power base, but it ended up with chaos.

KUF: Creative chaos?

AH: No, not really. After the summer of 1967, there were really only glimpses of anything creative happening. The rest was a show, and it was a cruel and rather useless show. Not that I give a shit what happened to Jung Chang [author of Wild Swans] and her privileged, reactionary family, but it ended up being a period of stagnation, there was a poisonous corruption within most institutions, and it set the stage for the boring re-hash of 19th century England that China is today: sweatshops, expropriated peasants, sovereignty over Hong Kong, the struggle for suffrage, Taiwan playing the role of Ireland, the whole nine yards. Well, that's not right, because there is no empire. I guess China is slavishly copying only 19th century British domestic politics. Undoubtedly it won't end until the Party members have permanent, hereditary representation in a House of Lords.

Anyway, I think the original question was whether the current political situation doesn't represent progress, an improvement over what came before, and I think it is. Only it isn't. What I mean is, sure, peaceful change is better than blood in the streets; having the vote is better than people dying for the right to vote. But there is just this huge gap between what is possible - the kind of wonderful changes that could happen peacefully, and what's actually considered to be possible. Look, really smart, radical people say, "this could happen" or "a better future might look like this." But in reality, the political choices seriously under consideration are remarkably narrow.

KUF: Does the narrowness of political possibility tell us that people have a kind of false consciousness?

AH: I don't think so, I think people are really, actually feeling satisfied with how things are, which just makes me crazy. If I felt that people were living in some sort of bubble, my life could have a goal: to pierce the bubble. Once that happened, they'd see what's what and human society would march forward to the radiant future. That would make me a happier man. You'd ask: "Why are you off the couch today, Mr. Helgen" and I'd say, "Well, Comrade, I am off the couch today because I have to demystify the minds of the masses. It's important work because I'm clearing the path to the radiant future." But I think people are actually satisfied, and it makes me want to put my fist through a wall.

KUF: Is that a parochial perspective -- it seems you are speaking specifically of the U.S.

AH: That's a good point. I am speaking mainly of the U.S. There's at least one thing George Bush and I agree on, and that's that this [the U.S.] is the most important country in the world. We're a model for people all over the world.

If you are looking for seams in the teflon fabric of the current world order, you can find them. In Bolivia, there might be real and important change, fueled by an active, democratic movement. I don't think much that's interesting is happening in Venezuela, although some good may come of Chavez's posturing. The World Social Forum highlights that there is local resistance and innovation across the globe.

KUF: That sounds vaguely optimistic?

AH: It is and it isn't. There is always resistance. At the height of Stalin's power, there was resistance, even organized resistance within the USSR. But resistance isn't power. Remember, And Mao Makes Five was a resistance to Reaganism, and it's ended up with me on the couch. In certain sad individuals, being part of a failed social movement can breed cynicism and apathy.

KUF: Better to have loved and lost?

A: Absolutely, absolutely. And as much as they've been coopted by advertising, cynicism and apathy are probably still better than capitulation and success. I'm not kidding myself about the couch, it's not the seat, as it were, of a new revolutionary movement. But doing nothing doesn't mean I'm not having any effect. My inertia may help slow the momentum toward the complete homogenization of the natural and human world.