Despite how much I may have nodded off in my Art History101 class, there were a few statements the professor mentioned that managed toburrow their way into my subconscious and stick with me. One of them is the artistic mantra that“everything old is new again.” Film inthe 1960’s was seen as “new wave” for breaking cinema’s ‘rules’ like they didduring its silent film gestation in the early 20 th century. Many independent videogames are now utilizinggraphics and sound design from some of its twenty-year old forerunners, and areseen as avant-garde and experimental because of it. In the early 1990’s, well after the punkgenre’s initial boom, it was stagnating. It rode the momentum of its shock value as far as it could go, and thestyle would have to revitalize and legitimize itself, or die trying. Some bands, like Blink 18, NOFX andPropaghandi walked a more playful path, evolving their humorous, mosh-friendlysongs into what is now known as Skate-Punk. Others, like Green Day and Offspring, would see the financial potentialof a more approachable style, and would shift their technique into something calledPop-Punk. A few, however, looked to anotherdying genre, Folk, for inspiration. Fromthis, stemmed a whole scene that for a while defied definition, and wentthrough gauntlet of titles: cowpunk, acoustic punk, alt-country, until settlingon a simplistic, but befitting title: Folk-Punk.[1]

To explore this niche genre, I interviewed three of itsunderground icons: David “Spoonboy” Combs, Chris Johnston (a.k.a. Chris Clavin)from the band Ghost Mice, and Terry Johnson, the singer and bassist of ThisBike is a Pipe Bomb. Some lean more tothe traditional side (Ghost Mice performs with only an acoustic guitar, afiddle, and a ukulele) while others are far more rock-infused (the onlynon-electric instrument “This Bike” uses is a harmonica). However, all three have released albums thathave been regarded as Folk-Punk, even if they no longer consider themselves as currentmembers of the genre.

To start off the interview, I asked what artistsinfluenced them the most, and each one cited the same band: The Pogues. Though Folk-Punk did not come into its ownuntil the late 90’s, its roots were planted by this group a good decadeearlier. The Pogues, formed by Shane MacGowan in 1982, played traditional Irishfolk music with a heavy influence from punk rock and American jazz. The group’s first songs were morerock-inspired, following the work of MacGowan’s previous band, the Nips. However, in their third album, If I Should Fall from the Grace of God,the Pogues found an honest, alternative identity in folk music. Chris Johnston, of Ghost Mice, commented:“Before that it seemed like they were goofing around, singing about fun butpretty juvenile shit. With this album,it was like they took the noises of their fathers and their fathers, and sort’ve wrote something timeless andrelatable. This music wasn’t just aboutpunk, it was about people.”

The public eye took note of this change; the single from thatalbum, “Fairytale of New York,” raced to #1 on the Irish charts and #2 onBritain’s.[2] Its offensive lyrics and harsh vocals arereminiscent of the Child ballads – ancient English and Irish folk songscompiled in the 1600’s – and its heritage enchanted UK listeners in a nostalgicnationalism, with an empowering “f*** you” feel to it. The song was later voted as the 84 thBest Song of All Time by BBC Radio 2 listeners in their “Sold on Song” top 100poll.[3] Even with the band’s success, people stilldid not know what to call them (as the genre did not exist yet), so many sawthem as an ephemeral novelty. MacGowanleft the band in 1992 due to alcoholism, in classic Folk fashion, and the bandfaded into a relative obscurity.

However, from those ashes rose many other musicians. The most heavily influenced were other Irishartists, forming groups like Flogging Molly and Dropkick Murphy’s. This style of music, however, became its ownsubgenre of an existing subgenre, andwas labeled Celtic Punk.

In the United States, fans of the fallen band thought thesound could be carried beyond the boundaries of its Gaelic roots. Chris Johnston formed the record labelPlan-It-X in 1992, under the mantra “If it ain’t cheap, it ain’t punk.” Johnston, and his friends’ bands (The TedDancin’ Machine, Instinct, and The Latch Key Kids), recorded and sold cassettesfor a dollar… even though they cost a dollar to make. “We were a non-profit tape label” he said, butadmitted that they didn’t really have a choice in the matter. “No one really would buy it otherwise,”Johnston laughed, “It was hard to be punk in Georgetown, Indiana.”[4]

When scrambling to create some sort of cover art for hiscassettes at Kinko’s, his friend and co-founder Samantha Jane Dorsett pointedout that the backs remained blank. Johnston suggested that they make a fake record label, to make it appeara bit more bona fide; Dorsett loved the idea, and proposed the name PlanetX. “You see,” he explained “Sam[antha] swore way back then that she was kidnapped byaliens for two years and held captive on a planet called Planet X. Don’t ask.” One of them decided to “spell it weird” to avoid copyright issues, and withthat, the label was formed on a whim.[5]

It slowly began gaining momentum as they put out morecassettes and started booking shows (the largest of which was called “RETURN OFTHE MARTIAN!” – a reference to Samantha Dorsett’s abduction experience). “We all sucked, and about twenty people wouldcome to the shows, and,” he said, coughing, “we got sick of dubbing tapes, likeeveryone did in those days.” Dorsett wasrewarded with some extra scholarship money, and when discussing how they oughtto spend it, the idea of releasing a 7” record came up. After some deliberation, Dorsett agreed, andthe two recorded the album “Operation: Chris Clavin”. With it, Johnston’s stage name was born. “Sam paid for the entire printing process,and it seemed worth it, but boy, those 7 inchers were hard to sell.” After some begging and more discounts thanthey’d like to share, they managed to somehow sell the whole stock. For a small local band playing a then-nonexistentgenre of music, those numbers were impressive.[6]

After that “little victory” they decided to make a fulllength CD in 1996. They were cheaper toprint, so they decided that more should be offered to the consumer for them tosell: “First off, they were five bucks instead of ten, ‘cause ten isn’tpunk. We threw in two stickers, not justone, and a patch on top of it. And wewanted a shitload of songs on there because, to be honest, they weren’t of thebest recording quality, so we tried to compensate with sheer, ball-busting quantity.” After trying to sell them, Johnston realizedthat they would have to step outside of their home counties if they wanted toclear out inventory and share their sound. “We packed up or stuff and went on tour, taking a thousand CDs withus.” Touring was different back then,however: without internet access, they had no way to get the word out en masse,and finding venues to take them was a challenge, as their main marketingstrategy involved flipping through phone books. Johnston aimed to book sixty shows, eventually pinning down only fortyfive, twenty four of which fell through. “Some would call that a bad tour, a terrible tour, but we lovedit.” Though they made only enough moneyto get by, selling a meager 180 CDs, they managed to make connections and finda small, but devoted, audience. 3

Here, they met The Bananas, who agreed to release theirnext album under Plan-It-X. “This was ahuge deal” Johnston explained, becoming visibly excited, “because they were thefirst members the label had who didn’t attend my high school!” It took two years for them to record thealbum, but when the label received it in 1998, it was well worth the wait. “ForbiddenFruit is a badass album and it made us real.” After that, Johnston took control ofPlan-It-X, signing new bands, printing new albums, and most importantly,adamantly keeping the five dollar price point. “Look at the people who identify themselves as folk or punk. They don’t have this excess income, so we gotto do what we can to let them enjoy our music. If we don’t live in luxury, so be it. At least we’re being true to our scene. We’re still fucking punk.”[7]

As managing thecompany became a larger responsibility, Johnston’s own acts (Ghost Mice, TheDevil is Electric, Operation: Chris Clavin, and Captain Chaos) fell by thewayside as newer, younger ones were found. Among these were the politically active rock group, This Bike is a PipeBomb. They released their firstPlan-It-X album, Dance Party With… in2001. “Chris just caught me after a showin 2000,” explained This Bike’sfront-man, Terry Johnson, “I remember told me he liked the band’s noise as whiletossing me a beer.” The two hit it off,and Johnston eventually asked if the band could join his label. “I thought about it, having heard ofPlan-It-X before, but Fab Records wanted us to do one more with them. I eventually forgot about it.” Johnston gave him his card, and they did notsee each other for about a year’s time. After releasing a 7” with Arkam Records, a sister label to Fab, theyband considered their next move. When rootingthrough his things while preparing to move apartments, Johnson found the cardagain. “Fuck it, I thought. I gave him a call, and for some reason he wasstill interested. The next week were outand on our way.” While recording,Johnston let the band stay in his basement. They began recording “Dance Party With…”, but something was off in theprocess. “We knew about half the songswe wanted on there, but we needed another 4 or 5, ya know? We need inspiration for it, and of course,Johnston whipped out our fucking muse: The Pogues.” Upon hearing “Dirty Old Town”, Johnson wasmotivated to make their sound harder than it’s thoroughly countryapproach. “That song was just so filthyand so honest to what we were feeling, as our shitty little towns were knockeddown and turned into soulless suburbs. We wanted something that anybody in the world could relate to. Something nasty and true.”[8]

Following the completion of that album and brief tour,they went on to release their most successful album, Front Seat Solidarity, with Plan-It-X again in 2002. At this time, their sound was cemented, andthey were much more confident in their niche. “Folk-Punk was something real now, and we knew that at this point; we were it. We made our lyrics even more politicaland tried to sing about the injustices we felt, but on a much biggerscale.” This album covered such themesas racial prejudice in songs like “The Argument” (“And 40 years ago it took theNational Guard/ To let the black kids in public schools”) and “This is What IWant” (“This is what I want, / Black kids and white kids sharing all the songsthat their grandmamma taught ‘em”). Theband was more distinctly ‘Folk’ in this album, as well, covering traditionalfolk songs such as “We Shall Not Be Moved”. This iconic work became the poster-child of the Folk-Punk, inspiringfuture Plan-It-X groups Defiance, Ohio and Andrew Jackson Jihad. Johnson remembers it warmly: “the genre wasreal, the albums were great, and the audience was growing. Good fucking times.”[9]

Folk-Punk was legitimate now, and the breadth of itsartists exploded on the east coast: out of Massachusetts came Bread and Roses,in Connecticut were The Can Kickers, and Against Me! was gaining popularity inFlorida. The North and South wererepresenting the genre, but the mid-Atlantic had no one to turn to. That was until 2001, when The Max LevineEnsemble worked with Fight the Octopus Records to release Chach, Cops, and Donuts. DavidCombs, the lead singer took much influence from traditional American folk: “Alot of people said I reminded them of Woody Guthrie, mainly because I sangabout the people and I met, and that my voice was freaking gross”. But, like with Guthrie, people found hissinging technique – known as the “high lonesome style” – charming and, moreimportantly, sincere. Combs did not tryto create a false self-image for his audience, and they responded: “People lovethe music I make not because it’s well-produced or sounds pretty, but becausethey like what I have to say. That feelsbetter than selling millions as Hannah Montana, I promise you.”[10]

However, the other members of his band preferred to stay morewith the Punk sound they started with. Torn over this, Combs created a solo alter-ego, Spoonboy. “With Spoonboy, I can say more of whatmatters to me, and say it how I want to say it. Don’t get me wrong, the band’s great, but I guess the solo thing is abit more personal for me.” Johnstonattended a show of their tour, and after introduction, they were quickfriends. Combs discussed his soloambition, and Johnston was intrigued. Fastforward a few months later: the two are housemates, and Spoonboy recorded hisfirst standalone album: I Love You, Thisis a Robbery.[11]
“With Plan-It-X, I just had so much opportunity” Combsexpressed, “they never really told me howto sound, but rather showed me inspiration. They never forced anything on me; we all just shared our ideas and werethe better for it. And the mostimportant things is that they aren’t trying to sell the most records, ‘causethey know that they can’t. It’s aboutmaking the best music you can and getting as many people to hear it as youcan. We’re like the minstrels of oldfolktales. We’re like the punks ofmodern legends. We’re the Robin Hoods ofthe electric-acoustic guitar.” Combslaughs, “that maybe bit melodramatic, but you get the picture.”[12]

  David “Spoonboy” Combs, like the folk-punks Iinterviewed, is completely absorbed into the music he’s making. These groups remind me of the Carter Family:collecting their grandparent’s songs, spinning them in an earnest fashion, andsharing them with the public. Instead ofexclusively folk themes, however, these singers are sharing their families’emotional frustration and political struggles. The genre allows these men and women to express these feelings to an audiencethat criticizes not the quality of one’s voice, but the honesty of one’slyric. It is a rise of modern poets,lost since blues faded from the public eye, and with media outlets like Juno (whose soundtrack was led bygenre-darling Kimya Dawson) and Away WeGo embracing the genre, the movement is only gaining momentum, and maybe we’llsee a resurgence of Folk on the Top 40 charts sometime soon. Or perhaps that is a fate reserved for somefar off Planet X.



[1] Sweers, B. Electric Folk: The Changing Face of EnglishTraditional Music (Oxford University Press, 2005), pp. 197-8.
[2] Climeck, Chris. "Performing Arts - ThePogues."Washington Post (2008): 2. Web. 21 Jan2010.<http://www.washingtonpost.com/wp-dyn/content/article/2008/03/10/AR2008031002990_2.html>.
[3] Ibid
[4] Johnston, Chris. Interview on Jan 17 th, 2010. Via Skype.
[5] Johnston, Chris. Interview on Jan 17 th, 2010. Via Skype.
[6] Ibid
[7] Johnston, Chris. Interview on Jan 17 th, 2010. Via Skype.
[8] Johnson, Terry. Interview on Jan 18 th, 2010. Via Skype.
[9] Johnson, Terry. Interview on Jan 18 th, 2010. Via Skype.
[10] Combs, David. Interview on Jan 17 th, 2010. Via Skype.
[11] Ibid
[12] Combs, David. Interview on Jan 17 th, 2010. Via Skype.