Subhumans, Magic Stick, Detroit, April 21, 2006

The Subhumans are legendary; they were one of the first anarcho-punk bands, alongside other legends such as Crass and Flux of Pink Indians. They are probably the only one still playing with such intensity and no sign of stopping. With a career that so far spans more than 25 years, this is no small accomplishment. I was anxious to see them play, because I thought it might be the last chance I had. After seeing them tear it up, though, I'm pretty sure they'll be back.

We arrived to a sold-out show, and the crowd outside the Stick was not happy. They were milling about, complaining. One bunch of you punk kids were discussing that they'd driven for Cincinnati.

Inside the club, Human Eye was just finishing their set; this involved a lot of flailing and screaming and things flying into the air. Half of the crowd in front of the stage seemed really into them, half just seemed confused.

As Leftover Crack took the stage, the crowd went crazy. Leftover Crack has a huge following, that mostly appears to consist of 16- and 17-year-old punk kids. They were in front of the stage, yelling, jumping and chanting "L.O.C.," as the band rushed out.

Leftover Crack has an interesting sound; it's a blend of thrash, ska and old school hardcore. It does seem a bit like they're trying to be a bit of everything to everyone, though, and sometimes it seems like they are so unwilling to commit to one sound that it gets sloppy.

On stage, they cranked through a set that sounded like Operation Ivy on steroids, and in between songs they ranted on such "political issues" as not having children, and killing cops. This is a band that seemed really committed to just riling up the young portion of the crowd by being as extreme as possible. It worked.

They pounded through their set, saying basically anything they could to whip the crowd up another notch. Whether it involved drug comments or comparing members of the crowd to eminem, they were running their mouths in between songs.

At some point during their set, I realized I was standing next to Subhumans' singer Dick Lucas. He was walking through the crowd, just taking it all in. Then he disappeared backstage.

When the crowd got too high-strung and were climbing on and jumping off the stage, the band would stop and reprimand them. They seemed to really want it both ways - they wanted a frenzied crowd that left them alone. That wasn't going to happen.

When the Subhumans took the stage, they were all class - as classy as old school punk rock can be. There was no posturing, they simply walked out on stage, Dick said "We're the Subhumans," and they got down to the business of blowing the crowd away with great punk rock.

At this point, about 10-20 percent of the crowd had filtered out. This group consisted entirely of the young punks who were so into Leftover Crack. They may have left because they weren't into the Subhumans, or they were too young to appreciate them, but I am much more convinced they were leaving to make curfew. This happens a lot with all-ages shows in Detroit - the youngest portion of the crowd is gone before the headliners take the stage.

Even with the younger contingent gone, the crowd was showed no signs of being subdued. If anything, the extra space gave the crowd more room to move; they were just more civilized about it. People who jumped onstage quickly jumped back into the crowd, rather than messing a bit with the band. The security seemed much more relaxed, too. They were standing on the edge of the stage singing along with the band, rather than glaring menacingly at the crowd.

The club was really hot from all of the bodies. A haze of humidity hung over the crowd from the sweat, and as I stood off to the side watching the band, I felt really bad for Nicole, my photographer, who was down in front of the stage taking pictures.

The Subhumans' set was composed of fast short bursts of energy, broken up only by Dick Fish announcing the title of the next song in his thick British accent before breaking into the next tune. They hammered through classic tunes such as "Joe Public" and "Heads of State", as well as few new tunes, like "Culture Addict". Then, just like that, they ended the set. It was fast, tight and solid - the sign of true professionals.

After the show, the band hung around chatting. Trotsky, the drummer stopped packing up his kit long enough to tell us that the tour had been "F*****g fabulous," while grinning from ear to ear. Bruce, the guitarist, spent a few minutes, chatting about suffering from tour flu. Then we spent a long time discussing the Sprinter van they were touring in ("We love it - 26 miles to the gallon"). This is Detroit after all! We love our cars. The show was an experience, and the guys were all really cool.