STILL THIRSTY, NOT MISERABLE

Black Flag's main man plants it in NY again

"America washes ashore like cultural driftwood in countries like this one," mused Henry Rollins last November, dispatching from Jakarta, Indonesia, straight to the circuits of VanityFair.com. His inspiration? A local woman he encountered wearing a Black Flag T-shirt, who smiled bemusedly as he took photos of her, not knowing/caring that she was in the presence of their lead singer—a fitting, if modest, underscore to the massive global impact the L.A. band had on hardcore post-punk in their 1977–1986 run. No other outfit galvanized socially critical metal and punk as much as those Damaged men, and no other '80s ex-frontman has emerged as undiluted as Rollins—with his spoken-word albums, with the riff-y Rollins Band, even as an erstwhile MTV VJ, his raging, witty bristle is still thrilling.
Fri., March 12, 9 p.m.; Sat., March 13, 9 p.m., 2010

 
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