On a Mission to Save Punk Rock

Thank you, Mayor Bloomberg, for making cigarette smoking punk again. Turning Unwritten Law’s vocalist Scott Russo into a rebel is a daunting task, but you stepped to the plate, and I applaud you for it. God knows he needs your assistance.

At Unwritten Law’s surprise spot at CBGB, venue staff chased Russo off the stage for lighting up, making for a closing far more punk than the rest of what they did on stage that night. The next day, Russo sat in Lava Records’ Midtown office, looking like he got lost on the way to the skate park. “I’m surprised that [the ban] was enforced, especially at CBGB’s,” he says. “We’re talking about like, cigarettes. I didn’t have a fuckin’ hodge podge.”

Punk does not come easily to our cynical generation, and Unwritten Law is no exception to this—or most any—rule. To their credit, though, they’re aware of the pop-punk stigma, even if they don’t combat it. “I get annoyed when I get pop-punk, and Warped Tour, and Hot Topic,” Russo says. “I would rather be confused with Helmet.”

Russo’s impatience with pop-punk accusations is not entirely unfounded. For while the band’s studio-dependent, commercial sound does fit the bill, their general subject matter and the style of their songs depart from most people’s conception of pop-punk. Unlike bands such as New Found Glory, Unwritten Law is not N’Sync set to guitars. That said, they’re also not Helmet.

Unwritten Law’s beginnings in the early So-Cal skate-punk scene won them fans they keep to this day. Records like Blue Room (1995), Oz Factor (1996), and their self-titled “black album” (1998) established them as a legitimate force in the mid-’90s, long before the current pop-punk scene took over the airwaves. To put it simply, UL goes way back, and they’re not looking to sever those ties. With their new album Here’s to the Mourning (coming out Feb. 1), Russo looks to reconnect with fans who may think the band went astray with Elva (2002) and the subsequent acoustic album Music in High Places (2002). Of the new album, Russo says, “Evolutionary we took it back to the black record.”

Positing The Mourning as UL’s answer to what the band sees as wrong with current music, Russo says, “We’re really not satisfied with music that’s going on. We wanted to make something truly revolutionary. It’s either gonna hit, or it’s gonna fuckin’ bomb, dude.”

The new album, while hard to classify as revolutionary, is probably a step in the right direction after the MTV-produced Music in High Places, recorded at Yellowstone National Park. In fact, Russo thinks The Mourning might provide an answer to those disillusioned with the larger state of punk. “It truly is punk rock,” he says. “I fuckin’ hate that word, but that’s wassup.”

For Russo, punk is not an image but rather a philosophy and a way of acting. “Get your fuckin’ nautical stars tattoo whatever the fuck ever,” he says. “You know what? I’m gonna do the exact opposite. I’m gonna get an acoustic guitar and play in the fuckin’ sticks, like, that’s punk, you know?”

Russo’s got a point: Punk music necessarily concerns itself with cutting against the grain. Like he says, “I believe the ethics of punk is you gotta not give a fuck.”

That’s all well and good, but UL’s new album (and national-park MTV gigs) definitely seem to care about commercial success. Witness the fact that the lead single off of The Mourning, “Save Me,” was co-written by Linda Perry, whose credits include the likes of Gwen Stefani and Christina Aguilera. The whole album, with its Linkin Park-like studio effects and feigned histrionics, caters precisely to the Hot Topic demographic Russo claims to detest. Maybe it’s punk music that needs saving.

Is Unwritten Law simply a group of devious dollar-mongers, or is it just that our culture fools them into thinking TRL and punk can peacefully co-exist? I think it’s the latter. Sitting in Lava Records’ Midtown office, Scott Russo is missing the top-hat and monocle that would make me more suspicious. In fact, his enthusiasm for Unwritten Law’s music is almost contagious: He believes in what he’s doing. “Truly I think ... we’re on a mission from God, dude,” he says. “Someone’s gotta save fuckin’ music.”

In a cultural context where smoking cigarettes onstage and playing acoustic music in the woods passes for punk, it’s hard to blame Russo for believing Here’s to the Mourning might save music. He’s just a player in a game we should all hate, a participant, even if unwitting, in today’s pop-punk circus. But even while Unwritten Law’s music is an easy target on so many fronts, Russo still makes sure to thank his fans, a gesture that will never go out of style: “We’re honored and stoked by anyone who listens to our music. We’re very thankful for anyone who fuckin’ picks it up.”