Dear Black Flag, This is my break-up letter. It should’ve been written long ago, back when I learned that Henry Rollins got his own “No Reservations” animal-themed spin-off series on Animal Planet, or when I heard that you guys were slated to headline a bluegrass music festival in Tennessee this past summer. It shouldn’t have taken me this long, but I found myself listening to “Damaged” too many times these past few years to feel comfortable with abandoning the emotions I had connected to the name “Black Flag.” But I’ve realized my mistakes, and I’m stronger now. I’m just going to come out and say it. It’s over, Black Flag. And it’s not me. It’s you. Your official revival is too much, too late and too awful. Getting the ol’ band back together almost 30 years after its disbandment isn’t heroic or something to be applauded. It's quite the contrary. The Huffington Post got it so, so wrong when they published an article with the headline, “How Dormant Hardcore Punk Legends Suddenly Became Two Legit Bands.” It should’ve read something like, “How Legit Hardcore Legends Suddenly Became Two Dormant Excuses of Bands.” If you guys were just reuniting one Black Flag, I would still be pretty upset. But you decided to separate the former members into not one, but two separate revival bands — Black Flag and FLAG, both of which use the original Black Flag font and logo and feature prominent members of the band’s early '80s lineup. So, I’m really super-extra upset. Don’t get me wrong. I love that you guys re-adopted original members, and I love that Henry Rollins is noticeably absent from both the neo-Black Flag and FLAG’s lineup. I love that you still have an overwhelming desire to make music and immerse yourself in today’s music culture and generally be badasses at your age, but you lied to yourselves. You lied to me. Black Flag died in 1985, when Greg Ginn gave that short phone saying he quit the band, and that was it. That was almost 30 years ago, and you all have changed. Of course you have, because that was 1985. You were booking your tour dates around Kira Roessler’s college schedule. You are all entirely new adults now, and trying to reclaim the Black Flag name as the people you’ve become over the past 28 years is insane. None of you are Black Flag. Sure, you collectively make up the members that used to be in Black Flag. But you are not Black Flag. The original Black Flag jumpstarted DIY labels and brought a new breed of punk to southern California that scared suburban moms sh-tless. You were instrumental to some of the greatest acts of all time, like Descendents and Minutemen and Redd Kross. At the time, and for subsequent years held dear in every punk kid’s developing heart, you were among the greatest. And your album art was controversial, wonderful, and in a word: iconic. The art for the new album, “What The…” literally made me say just that. It looks like a 53-year-old Ron Reyes hopped on the computer, discovered that Microsoft Paint was a thing and started doodling while he laughed to himself about how “fun” his “cartoon” was. ( ... Oh. You mean that’s exactly how it was made? Awkward.) Keith Morris got it right when he formed OFF! with former members of Redd Kross, Hot Snakes and a few others. OFF! was the perfect example of old punk dudes who used to be in killer hardcore bands coming together to collaborate on something entirely new, while still using relics from the past. Admittedly, I would still prefer to listen to each members’ respective old bands, but I have much more respect for OFF! than I do for the new-wave Black Flag. I mean, Raymond Pettibon even did their artwork. Listen, Black Flag, or FLAG, or whatever. I don’t have unrealistic delusions of what punk is. I don’t toss and turn at night, trying to convince myself that real punk isn’t dead. I don’t spend my days concocting plans to bring back the old stuff I missed out on for the benefit of my angsty companions who have never listened to a Bad Brains album before. I, like most young adults whose musical tastes were defined by early '80s hardcore, don’t cling to the past. We’ve discovered new avenues and genres of punk that are what we need now. I’m not upset about that. I know Black Flag died before I was even born, and I’m not mourning its loss. I’m mourning its revival. Reach the reporter at mmspear@asu.edu
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