Anti-Flag opening for Rage Against the Machine (photo: Tony Nelson)

Anti-Flag at the Target Center Sept. 3 (photo: Tony Nelson)

Radical punk band Anti-Flag headlined the Ripple Effect Tuesday at the St. Paul Capitol Grounds, where Rage Against the Machine were physically barred by police from taking the stage to perform a surprise set. Rage performed two songs on a megaphone out in the audience, and much of the crowd turned around to march on the RNC. We caught up with Anti-Flag singer-guitarist Justin Sane and drummer Pat Thetic backstage at the Target Center Wednesday to get their side of the story.

Q: So what happened Tuesday?

Justin Sane: The police refused to let Rage Against the Machine go onstage even though we had a permit. As guests of ours, they were included in that permit. The permit didn’t specify any bands.

Q: It’s been all over the media that Rage didn’t have a permit.

JS: That’s been inaccurately reported.

Pat Thetic: We had a hard curfew at 7:00, that’s what we were all worried about.

JS: We had invited Rage to play a number of their songs using our gear after our set. The plan was, we were going to finish our set early, and Rage were going to come up and be done by 7:00. So we finished our set, and Rage were supposed to be coming up. And as Rage got out of their vehicles, they were intercepted by police.

The police said, “Are you Rage Against the Machine?” And Tom Morello said to them, “I don’t know.” [laughs] That’s a very good answer. And then they encircled Rage Against the Machine, and told them if they went onstage they would be arrested.

PT: And they physically prevented them from going onstage.

JS: So at that point we all got together, Anti-Flag and Rage Against the Machine, and we said, well, let’s not let ourselves be intimidated into not making a statement. Instead let’s go out directly to the audience and be part of the audience. We just walked around the side of the stage.

There was absolutely no violence, no confrontation at this event at all until the police came in. The police single-handedly made this event very dangerous.

Q: Do you have friends or relatives who are Republicans?

PT: My parents are Republicans. My dad and I were just having a conversation before soundcheck, and he said, ‘We’ll discuss Sarah Palin later,’ and I said, ‘Yeah, we’ll do that later.’ [laughs] We never change each other’s minds. But I definitely encourage people to spend time with Republicans, because there’s a whole propaganda world that they get and we don’t get, and we get that they don’t get.

JS: There’s a real disconnect between our realities.

Q: Did you watch Fred Thompson’s pitch for McCain? I felt hypnotized by it.

PT: These people are experts at marketing and advertising. They know the things that are going to push buttons to make people like them. They’re spending millions of dollars to get you to think these things every day.

Q: How did you come by your politics?

JS: Well I actually grew up in the most extremely opposite kind of family, where my parents were left-wing political activists, They had a vegetarian restaurant in the 1970s, before most people knew what a vegetarian was. The city we grew up in, Pittsburgh, is a labor town, and my uncle was in the steel workers union. But what excited me about political action was political music, bands like Dead Kennedys and the Clash. So I could understand the impact that political music could have on a movement. Yesterday was an incredible example of that.

Q: That said, there’s a few dozens kids breaking windows and stuff. Is there a place to draw the line with illegal protest?

PT: I’m actually a fan, [laughs] I have to say. When you’re there, you see what’s happening. You see the frustration of the kid on the sidewalk who’s just there chanting, and the cops pull him off and throw him on the ground and start pepper-spraying him in the face.

JS: At that point, when kids start breaking windows, then it makes sense. Rarely does a group of kids just show up and start knocking shit over and breaking things for no reason. It’s almost always something that’s instigated by the police. And there have been cases where undercover police are in the audience instigating things, so that’s certainly an issue.

PT: I’ll take a number of Starbucks windows to get the troops out of Iraq.

Zach de la Rocha of Rage Against the Machine (photo: Tony Nelson)

“We want tits! We want tits!” came the chant from the floor before last night’s Rage Against the Machine concert at the Target Center. While Funk the War and other groups gave out radical literature from tables in the halls, young men voiced their simpler demand inside, and a young woman in the stands obliged them, as well as the rows behind her and to her right. Like any rock crowd, the Rage audience can quickly become the Jerry Springer audience. Yet some of the band’s appeal lies in the promise that this equation works in reverse.

Anti-Flag at Rage Against the Machine show on Sept. 3 (photo: Tony Nelson)

It wasn’t long before the nearly sold-out crowd was cheering those about to hop the barrier to the floor, a bit of authority-bucking that swelled the mosh pits. And when a female fan flashed openers Anti-Flag, bassist Chris #2 stopped the music to quip that there was probably a Blink-182 show down the street for that kind of thing.

Rage played nearly a dozen songs without mentioning the war, the RNC, or the growing and alarming police presence outside the arena. The band let anti-fascist songs such as “Bulls on Parade” (which they performed through a megaphone the day before at the St. Paul Capitol Grounds) speak for themselves, with only visual and musical clues to their revolutionary socialist gestalt: They took the stage wearing the orange jumpsuits and black hoods of War on Terror detainees, raised a giant red star behind them, and played “The Internationale” (in Russian, no less) over the PA before their encore.

Yet the momentousness of the music swept up even this Rage skeptic, who believes that Communists (like Republicans) are better for the world not being in power. The sight and sound of a suddenly illuminated coliseum full of kids shouting, “Fuck you, I won’t do what you tell me!” was undeniably powerful. At that moment, Rage were everything that makes them great: heavy as a planet, rallying as a P-Funk anthem, and deeply anti-authoritarian. The fact that frizzed-out singer Zack de la Rocha looked a little like Thing 1 or Thing 2 was just gravy.

Rage Against the Machine in orange jumpsuits during RNC (photo: Tony Nelson)

Zack de la Rocha and Tom Morello of Rage Against the Machine (photo: Tony Nelson)

The band more or less reunited to be here this week, a loud counter to the RNC’s week-long power grab on popular culture. (Which might explain why Rage is on somebody’s list: “Are you Rage Against the Machine?” the police asked them the day before at the capitol, according to members of Anti-Flag. “I don’t know,” was guitarist Tom Morello’s response.) Some speechifying at the concert was inevitable, and when it finally came, the words were carefully chosen.

“They’re concerned about a few people who broke a couple windows,” said de la Rocha to the audience. “They just broke two countries.”

Yet, perhaps sensing the Jerry Springer factor, de la Rocha closed with an appeal for coolness on the streets, in words that were part Gramsci, part MLK. “You know, in actuality, all these protests have been very peaceful, very in control. It’s really the police that have been out of control,” he said. “So when we leave here, let’s prove to them that we got more discipline than they do. Let’s show them that we’re willing to defend our rights here without any troubles, because they’re looking for shit tonight, they really are.”

Crowd at Rage Against the Machine Wednesday (photo: Tony Nelson)

Outside the Target Center, police in riot gear had entirely surrounded the building. An impromptu drum circle chanted, “Hey, Minneapolis, raise up your fists!” as the crowd poured out onto 1st Avenue and down the sidewalks, many stopping to take cell-phone pictures of the surreal spectacle of so much law enforcement. Before I could retrieve my bicycle across 2nd Avenue, an officer at the curb shouted to get to the other side of street, and pulled out his club. Though I smiled and kept going–”My bike is seriously right there,” I said–my hand was shaking when I unlocked it.

Peace sign outside (photo: Peter S. Scholtes)

Out in front of the building, a shirtless and visibly drunk Rage fan was yelling at a row of mounted police faced westward. The guy, who was eventually talked down by volunteer peace marshals for the week’s RNC protests, said something to the effect that he wanted only to have his own megaphone to disperse the crowd himself. (“You can arrest that guy,” joked Rage fans from the sidelines.)

After the police made the usual loudspeaker announcement to clear the streets in accordance with Minneapolis ordinance (adding a Robocop-esque “You have ten minutes to comply”), most people did, with a large crowd sticking around on the side to see what, if anything, would happen next. Soon the officers on horseback were gone, leaving behind only droppings for the stray downtown high heel to step in, and the remaining force eventually marched out as well, making way for traffic. Police arrested at least three people nearby, though I couldn’t confirm why (a mass arrest was going on a block away, though I didn’t know it at the time). When I tried to ask, one arresting officer said, “That’s not your concern,” while another threatened to arrest me if I didn’t leave.

In a way, for most fans, it was the perfect end to a Rage concert: defiance of arbitrary authority without painful consequences, just enough real danger to get the juices going. (“Fuck you, I will do what you tell me, but only after shouting at you for a while!”) But I was grateful that de la Rocha made his speech about not giving the police an excuse anyway. Though most people watched the street theater for what it was, police and protesters playing their roles, an excuse was all it would have taken to get ugly fast.

Atmosphere at Take Back Labor Day (photo: Tony Nelson)

Allison Moorer and Steve Earle at Take Back Labor Day (photo: Tony Nelson)

Billy Bragg at Take Back Labor Day (photo: Tony Nelson)

Onstage performers invoked the names of Woody Guthrie, the Clash, and James Brown, among others, with Morello embodying the lineup’s unusual nexus of hip-hop and folk leftism as he took the stage with an acoustic guitar scrawled with the words “Whatever it takes” (a nod to Guthrie, who wrote “This machine kills fascists” on his). Covering Rage and bringing members of Iraq Veterans Against the War to the stage behind him, he somehow persuaded a sea of tattooed under-30-year-olds to sing and clap along to Guthrie’s clunky national anthem “This Land Is Your Land.” Bragg (who could later be seen head-bobbing to Atmosphere) had already told the crowd that the event reminded him of London’s Rock Against Racism show in 1978, where he first saw the Clash.

“Labor doesn’t belong to any country, any party,” he said.

Tom Morello at Take Back Labor Day with Iraq Veterans against the War (photo: Tony Nelson)

The Pharcyde at Take Back Labor Day (photo: Tony Nelson)

Crowd at Take Back Labor Day (photo: Tony Nelson)

Showtime and Myth, two b-boys on the grass near the stage, had never heard of Bragg or Steve Earle–they were here for Mos Def–but popped and locked to Earle’s DJ-accompanied rendition of the theme from HBO’s The Wire. (On that show, Earle plays the most iconic AA sponsor this side of Morgan Freeman in Clean and Sober.) Allison Moorer sang Sam Cooke’s “A Change Is Gonna Come.” And Mos Def (with his acting mentor Giancarlo Esposito in the wings) covered Brigadier Jerry’s “Jamaica Jamaica.” Atmosphere’s Slug dedicated “Yesterday,” a song for his late father, to George Carlin. Like the guitar says, whatever it takes.

Postscript: Not so peaceful. Most of us there didn’t know that arrests were taking place near the Wabasha Bridge down by the river within earshot of Atmosphere’s set–it was all over by the time I biked over. The irony is that the song, “Always Coming Back Home to You,” is partly about how relatively peaceful this city is. Watch the footage from theuptake above.

Here are some more photos from the show by Tony Nelson:

Steve Earle at Take Back Labor Day (photo: Tony Nelson)

Atmosphere at Take Back Labor Day (photo: Tony Nelson)

The Pharcyde at Take Back Labor Day (photo: Tony Nelson)

Outside the mood was glum. “I’m hoping to raise the consciousness of everyone here about what is going on in New Orleans right now,” said Mike O’Bannon, D.C. lobbyist for Entergy, taking a seat in a parked car next to his driver with a glass of liquid in his hand. Across the street, young fans of American Idol were screaming for their favorite stars outside the Target Center. “I’m hoping the Republican and the Democratic Party together do the right thing for these people that are hurting.”

Inside, a local volunteer for the RNC-invited Friends of New Orleans was more blunt. “[Katrina] was under George Bush’s watch, and he dropped the ball,” said Marni Hockenberg. “There’s enough blame to go around, but I don’t think that the Republicans have done enough work to restore New Orleans. If they feel a little guilty, they should.”

Hagar rocked this crowd about as well as anyone could, earning his laughs and cheers when introducing bass player/backup singer Mona Gnader. “I remember saying, ‘I can’t have a girl in the band, that’s like having a girl for vice president or something,’” he said. “Oddly enough we call her the First Lady.”

The Red Rocker then signed off after a mellow “Dreams”: “I’ll see you in Cabo! I’ll see you in San Francisco! I’ll see you in office!” As the remaining crowd began to dance, a visibly drunk and frustrated young reporter from the London Guardian recognized me and pulled me aside. “Republican are cunts, man,” he said. “End of story.”

But that wasn’t the end of the story. Because before anyone could auction off the shiny guitar signed by Hagar to raise money for Katrina-related charity, Louisiana musician Tab Benoit took the stage to address the chattering RNC crowd. “We destroyed the coast of Louisiana,” he said. “And that’s why we can’t handle these storms. We had major storms before, and we were protected by thousands of miles of wetlands. We’ve lost over the size of Delaware on our coast.”

“This is your fault,” said one suit-jacketed Republican to another on the floor, apparently meaning the destroyed wetlands, though now I wonder if he was talking about Benoit being onstage and going off script. Benoit received polite applause either way.

The Republican, who wouldn’t give his name, seemed genuinely upset by more than just the looming political storm. “I have family in Mississippi,” he said. As for the rest of the week’s festivities, “It’s over. Everyone’s gone home. Which is okay. We’re just going to have to run on our message, and win on our message.”

“A woman straddling a large silver metal phallus, it’s hard to beat that,” remarked bystander Ian Rans. “I liked the people who were skipping,” he added. “They could have had a sign saying ‘It could be worse.’”

The recurring theme was defense of constitutional liberty. “This is a test of the emergency free speech system,” read a sign carried by Ben Masel of Madison, Wis. “If this had been an actual emergency, there would have been preemptive raids by the sheriff’s department,” he announced. Similar sentiments united a surprising array of participants, from Church of Scientology protesters Anonymous (wearing the Vendetta masks) to Ron Paul “freedom fighters.” (Who, for good measure, were answered by a Ron Paul sign with the word “SUCKS” painted across it.)

“It’s a very slippery slope with all this data-mining in this country,” said Texas Ron Paul backer Brian Bymark. “If you don’t do something now, you might not be able to do something later.”

Bymark said he won’t vote for either party’s candidate, citing Obama’s plans for escalation in Afghanistan. Masel, with the “free speech system” sign, said he’ll vote Obama, “but without falling in love.” Avram Leierwood, 16, in full zombie makeup, said he’ll support a Republican, but not McCain. “I’d vote for zombie Abraham Lincoln,” he said.