Boonie Boone: What’s left for Ian MacKaye to do as 1) an artist staying on top of his craft to be innovative and creative and 2) a humanitarian and activist creating awareness in the D.C. area, but also nationally?

Ian MacKaye: Who came up with that question?

BB: Me.

IM: Um…I got to tell you, I don’t think in terms of the future. I don’t think about things that are left to be done for me. I don’t think about what I’m gonna do. I don’t think about what’s gonna happen down the road. What I think about always is what I’m up to at the moment. And there are certain things I try and to make sure things are in place, so things can develop. I don’t want things to be stunted in terms of just naturally developing or evolving. However, I don’t bank on anything in the future. So I don’t ever try to prophesize at all.

Recently I’ve been thinking about this idea in terms of the future, it’s a metaphor that I think a lot about which is: the future is a point around the corner. If you’re going up, say a mountain road, the future is always around the corner. You never see it because it’s out of view around the corner. But the one thing that is sure is that the future is there. My job, I think all our job really, is to make sure the vehicle in which we are traveling is in good shape and will make it down the road. That’s the point.So this is the way I approach my life. People have always asked me, “Where do you see yourself in five years? Where do you see yourself in ten years?” I don’t see myself in five or ten years, I see myself today.

BB: I read a quote you had in a newspaper from Seattle that was along the lines of: “I learn from the past, act in the present and not worry too much about the future.”

IM: Exactly. So in terms of what’s left for me to do? I have no clue what is left for me to do. Life, that’s what’s left. The context of things is always changing. The one thing that I’m sure of is that things will change. And that’s the one thing I celebrate most about life. So, I will respond to those changes that make the most sense to me. So what’s the point of worrying about it all? What’s the point at even trying to make a guess?

BB: Do you think kids or your audiences are more open to accepting your ideas or message than they were when Fugazi started or even with Minor Threat?

IM: The context was different. When I was in Minor Threat I was 18, 19 years old. We were all peers. We were all accepting of everyone’s ideas. There was all kinds of stuff coming up. It was a really super-prolific time in terms of music, ideas, styles and all kinds of stuff. It was very focused on what was going on in the American punk underground. It was small and dynamic, and because it had no attention from the outside, it was able to develop in really organic manner. And it just blew up.

BB: And it changed.

IM: Sure, and the more exposure and light you shined on it, it changed more and that’s natural. Now Fugazi, we were a band that was entering into, at that point, a fairly calcified punk scene that had become really traditionalist after just about six or seven years. There was a traditionalist type of behavior that a band plays a note and immediately everyone is supposed to start punching each other in the face. And on a gender level it had become really boy-heavy. The violence had become so centerpiece that the only people who wanted to be at the front of the stage were the more aggressive boys, for the most part. That created a sense of, “Well, this is just boys.” So a lot of people were turned off by that.When Fugazi entered the scene, that was the context in which we existed. Our point-of-view was to not accept that kind of audience or behavior because we disagreed with it.

BB: This leads me to another question…

IM: Why don’t you let me finish my answer.

BB: Sorry, Ian. Go ahead.

IM: The rest of the story was, there were a lot of people that were unhappy with my point-of-view at that point ’cause it blew up and flew into the face of their conventional ideas. But then there were a lot of people who were really psyched because this was the way they felt and they did have any bands that would speak up for that kind of point-of-view.

Now days when you ask me how do people perceive me or do more people listen to me now, I think the relationship is different. I’m almost 40 years old; I’ve been doing this for 22 years. I have a legacy behind me. So a lot of people who are interested in what I’m doing were not even born when I started doing it. Their relationship with me is really different. I think they do listen to me differently now, because I’m an elder on some levels. So it changes the way people relate to me. Also, the times are different. I can’t compare these groups very well. All I can say is that where I’m at now is that I have a life experience and point of view people are interested in hearing about. Which makes me happy because I’m kind of interested in thinking about it out loud.

BB: You’re gonna have that chance.

IM: Well, we’ll see…unless I clam-up. But I’m not too worried about it. (slight pause) So anyway, I was leading you to another question.

BB: In the Minor Threat chapter of “Our Band Could Be Your Life,” you said, “I believe in that [justified aggression]. I’m an aggressive person.” Where do you draw the line between personal aggression and stopping your sets when a few guys get out of hand in the crowd at a Fugazi show?

IM: Again, it’s contextual. I can’t deny, nor would I deny, any of my actions. I acknowledge what happened in my life. But it’s contextual. In 1979 when I first got into punk rock, I wasn’t getting into it to get into fights at all. I was doing it because it was representing to me, a counterculture. That was a thing I really wanted to be a part of. I was not comfortable with the idea of existing in the mainstream because the mainstream seemed so depressing to me. That idea of life seemed very standard. It seemed like everyone was getting high, going to college, getting high, then getting a job, then drinking, living and then dying. I couldn’t believe that people didn’t want to go after the truth a little bit and confront things that were clearly wrong in the world. People that didn’t want to challenge any sort of conventional thinking whatsoever. For me punk rock was really that. I was not looking to get into a fight, that was not my idea.

Initially though, I was trying to separate myself from the pack. That’s why we wore funny clothes. That’s why we made the funny sounding music. What I found out though was that something as simple as wearing a silly jacket, singing a dumb song or doing anything to differentiate yourself from the public at large resulted in vilification. And we found ourselves constantly under attack. If we walked down the street, people would constantly drive-by, roll down their windows, yell shit, drive around the block, come back for a second time and literally attack us. They’d throw rocks at us or chase us with sticks. It was bizarre.

But what we found out was, that if you’re kids and you do something weird, it immediately makes people hate you. It’s hard for people to understand what it was like in the late seventies. So what ended up suddenly happening was there was this sense of aggression that was being aimed at us. And we circled the wagons and decided we weren’t gonna take shit from people. We thought we would fight back and defend ourselves. So it kind of upped the ante; with each passing year or passing month things sorta got more intense and we thought we’re gonna fight back because we’re not gonna be attacked anymore. You have to keep in mind that Washington D.C. is a government town and there’s an enormous amount of military here. We hung out in Georgetown and every Friday or Saturday night these Marine guys would come flooding into town, maybe they were told before they left to go beat up somebody, because that’s what they were doing. I got the shit beat out of me by a Marine for sure. So we thought, “we’re gonna defend ourselves.” I came up with this philosophy that I was gonna use violence as a form of communication. This was a way to communicate that I was not gonna take your shit and the philosophy was to bruise the ego, but not the body. It was a theory and one I felt I could adhere to. And I did. I never sent anyone to the hospital. I was never malicious; I didn’t pound people’s heads into the ground, try to kill them. What I tried to do was show them I was not scared of them and that I was also prepared to strike back if they were to attack. What I didn’t take into account was how other people would perceive violence, how they would read it and how they would perform it. The thing I had not taken into consideration was that how my acquaintances and friends and people around me would deal with it was quite different. Suddenly it became almost fashionable to get into a fight, which was weird for us. If you were out with a bunch of friends and someone started a fight, they were your pack, your tribe, your gang and you’d have to step in, you have to step up for your friends. But it was fucked. Basically, it ended up that you were defending the actions that were probably not even actions worth defending. But because of that sort of covenant, that tribe we felt for each other, we had to do it.

In 1983, it was clearly a problem. In later interviews in 1983, you’ll see I was speaking out that this has to stop – violence begets violence. What happened in 1983-84 was these skinheads starting showing up in Washington and they were attacking these people for what seemed completely absurd reasons. Now I’m sure some of the reasons I got into fights people thought were absurd as well. But I started seeing these kids attacking people for wearing red shoelaces, red t-shirts, for whatever. They were just looking for a fight. And that was what was going on. So I said, “Look, what’s up with you all? What’s going on here? Why do you all want to start a fight all the time?” What they basically told me was, “We’re just following your lead. We grew up watching you defend the scene. Now you don’t, but we will.” And I was like, “Wow, violence begets violence.” It’s just the way it is. And the irony of the whole thing is that I was a pacifist my whole life until I started fighting and I realized I had a conceit about me that I could keep things under control, but I could not. I don’t regret because there’s nothing for me to regret. It brought me to where I’m at today because I turned hardcore. In 1984, I made the decision that I would not fight anymore. One of the reasons I was kind of hanging on to violence was that I couldn’t understand how I would be able to navigate in a world in which I felt so under attack. What I discovered was, if you stop speaking a language, you can no longer hear what other people are saying to you. So when I stopped fighting, if a person drove by and called me a fag or some nasty word from a car, they weren’t talking to me. I couldn’t hear them anymore. So I no longer got into fights. It was a good lesson for me to learn.

BB: That’s some great knowledge.IM: If you remove it from your arsenal, then it cannot be used.

BB: I had a similar incident happen to me last night. Someone made a comment as I was walking our of an apartment and I went back in and asked who said it. The guy said it was him and I asked that he next time say it to my face. I walked out while him and a buddy trailed behind threatening us with violence. But that goes into a whole alcohol and drinking thing too.

IM: Punk rock for my friends and me started in 1979-80. That was like an explosion in this country. And the beginning of anything – birth, fire, anything else, is full of friction. The violence that surrounded punk rock to me made sense in the beginning because it was new. It’s like a supernova, it’s friction, it’s fire, it’s lava – all these things are changing. It causes unrest and I understand it and I’m comfortable with it. However, as a practice, a traditional behavior, it’s bullshit. It’s completely insane. There’s nothing to fight about at all. In fact, really once things first got into place, people should have been like, “Hey, we need to learn not to fight because that’s part of the evil.” I don’t want to go on and on about this, but if I were you last night, I would have walked out the door without hearing them.

BB: And we did.

IM: But I totally understand your point-of-view. Let me tell you, there would have been nothing more satisfying, in some ways, than if you had gone back in and cracked one of those kids upside the head. It would have been, on some levels: “Fuck you!” I understand the feeling. Let me tell you, that’s what got us so jacked up in the beginning. We would walk down the street and these cars of private school boys would drive by and say “Fuck you, you fucking punk faggots!” or whatever. They’d drive by and we’d be all seething mad. What we ended up doing one day when these guys drove by and yelled this was we started running. It’s in the city; a city block is not that long. There are traffic lights at almost every block, so the odds were against them. They hit a red light and we just totally went into them. We just dragged them out of the car. We didn’t murder anybody, but we scared the crap out of them. It was one of those things where it was so satisfying. It’s a feeling that not all rides are free.

BB: You’re calling their bluff.

IM: Right, and that’s all. So to the degree that that guy said that shit to you, you wish there was some incredible comeback just to lay them out. But the problem is, not necessarily beat them down, but have something to say to shut them up. The fact of the matter is they are drunken idiots. You could murder every drunken idiot in your town and the world would still be full of them. So, there’s no point in engaging anymore. Assholes are a virus. They will always be present and there are times when the virus will run stronger than other times, depending on where you’re at. Depending on where you’re at assholes will increase in numbers like a virus taking hold. Other times they’ll retreat, but they’ll just be somewhere else. They’re always going to be present, they’re part of the world. You can’t eradicate them, so why even engage in trying to eradicate one or two or three? You can’t teach them a lesson…forget it, walk away.That’s how I reconcile my point of aggression.

BB: How have the effects of September 11 affected you not only on a personal level, but also on a professional level as far as Dischord goes and awareness in the city?

IM: It really hasn’t affected me at all.

BB: How did you handle it when it happened?

IM: I got a call that morning saying someone flew a plane into the World Trade Center. So we turned the television on to see what the hell was going on. As we were turning the television on, I got another call saying another plane just hit. I was like, “Uh oh.” I knew right then that it was terrorism. I turned it on, saw the second plane hitting and I was like, “Okay, turn it off.” Because my feeling at that moment was this was an image that I will see the rest of my life and I don’t need to start looking at it now. So I just turned it off. I went back into my office, started making breakfast and got a call from Joe (Fugazi’s bass player) and he said, “Did you hear that?” I said no, I didn’t notice anything. I live near a 7-11 so there’s a lot of traffic. He said something just exploded. I turned the television back on and the Pentagon just got hit. I was like, “Oh, the Pentagon just got hit.” The plane flew basically right over Joe’s house. So I said, “Let’s just turn the TV off.” There’s nothing I could do about it, it was out of my hands. That’s the thing: everything that led up to it was out of my hands, everything that was happening that day was out of my hands and everything was going to happen was largely out of my hands too. Now, I can express an opinion about it, but I have no control over the actions of these people, on any side, it’s not my call. So my feeling was I’m not going to get caught up in the madness. Television is an insidious medium. It has its positive sides; it has some constructive aspects.

But largely, if you think about this country, you have 250 million people that have a television – if they are simply trying to get the story out, they have to show something 250 million times. When they run this thing 24 hours a day, three days in a row showing planes hitting a building over and over, buildings falling over and over and people dropping out of the sky over and over again, you’re not supposed to look at it for three days in a row. The idea was, people could check-in and say this is what it looks like. But people ended up getting stuck ’cause I guess they thought the television would explain to them what was happening. What was happening was human beings were being ugly. That’s what was happening. I didn’t need a television to show me that. That something horrible had happened was that a catastrophic tragedy had occurred. But this is nothing new in the human experience. Human beings have been doing this stuff to each other since the beginning. They’ve always been doing this and they always will do it; it just happened to be on our block. My feeling was, “I’m gonna answer the mail,” ’cause I had a lot of mail to answer. People had written to me and I thought this would be a good, productive way to spend the day. I can’t do anything about it, I’m not gonna run even though there were supposedly like eight planes still flying around. What can I do? There’s nothing I can do about it. I got the mail down and I started to answer the mail. I decided I would predate all of my letters. I dated them all on September 10 because I didn’t want people wondering why I was on September 11 writing letters. I find in a way, it was an interesting way to bridge the past and the future together. By doing this I say I wrote them on the 10th and mailed them, so they’d arrive on the 13th or 14th. My idea was that I’d go vote for the future. It’s been proven that the future would arrive. It’s just around the corner, it was gonna show up. So I’m gonna write these letters because I’m assuming that these letters will be delivered and people will receive them. And that’s my vote for the future.

My first thoughts really were, that we’d be okay. It sucks, but we’re gonna get through it. I’m opposed to planes being flown into buildings. I’m opposed to poison being sent through the mail. I’m opposed to the bombing and shooting of people of other countries. I’m opposed to it. So, I’m opposed to the war in Afghanistan, or whatever they’re calling it. I’m opposed to all of it, I think it’s incorrect and I don’t think it should be done. That’s my opinion about it. Now people will say, “What would you do?” I would not engage in violence. They say, “Well, you’re a pacifist.” Yeah, I’m a pacifist. That’s correct. They say, “If you’re a pacifist, is violence ever okay?” I tell them, “No, it’s not okay.” So they say, “Well, if someone’s attacking your mom, would it be okay then?” This is a typical wordplay; people try to trick you with this. My answer to that is no, it’s not okay, but it may be necessary. If someone attacked my mom, then yes, I would use violence to stop them. It may be necessary for me to engage in that, but it’s not okay. It’s never going to be okay. Because the moment you say it’s okay, then it gives full license to really horrible behavior. And if it’s sanctioned by something that’s supposed to be helpful or positive like the government or religion and yet they’re sanctioning the murder of people, there’s a problem there. There’s a big problem; it’s not okay. Violence is not okay.

I’m really troubled by the swiftness in which this country went to war. The word “war” was uttered within something like seven minutes when the buildings were crashed into. I would like to think of this country as a country that would have at that point and time, taken a moment to reflect about the situation and what the hell was going on and perhaps not jump into something that would be out of our control. It’s not as if the people in those planes were reacting to something that happened weeks ago. What happened was something that was born of hatred that was based on years. So, who knows where this will lead us. I believe violence begets violence and I suspect it’s gonna lead us into something else that’s gonna be unpleasant. I can’t help but think that, and I’m not scared of it. It’s out of my hands.

BB: Do you acknowledge the fact that you move people the same way bands may haven blown you away when you were younger? Do you see yourself in that realm?

IM: I don’t think I see myself in that realm, but I understand the power of music. I believe that it is possible. I can’t really think of myself in that realm because I put them on such a celestial level. It’s really important for me to feel earthbound because that’s who I am. That’s the way I feel.

I go about my business – I’m a totally normal guy. That’s part of the punk rock experience. The guys that are writing that book (“Our Band Could Be Your Life”) – my sense was they were writing about heroes. My point about the D.C. punk scene was that we were kids, normal kids. And that is the possibility of life. If you want to do something, do it. Work hard doing it and love it. That’s what was heroic about it, not that there were these particularly gifted individuals, but that it was individuals among a world of gifts. Everyone has the same access to the human experience and we just happened to do what we did. So I always encourage people to do the same to whatever degree. Not to emulate or imitate, but to approach it the same. If they hear something, see something, taste something, then try and grab it, translate it and share it with or people. That’s a musician. Musicians to me are interpreters – we’re translators. When you make music, you try and translate it. You’re a medium almost and you’re hearing it and then you try to reproduce it. I hear certain things and can’t put them into words and that’s why I make music. If it were things I see, I might be a painter. If I were I painter I might see something, not explain it in words, so I reproduce it in paint. Translators, interpreters – that’s what artists are. It’s not just artists; it’s chefs, writers, anyone…that’s creativity. To answer your question, no I don’t think of myself in that category of Ted Nugent or whatever. If I did, then I would be stepping back from who I am. I would be putting myself in the third person. If I did that, then I would no longer be doing anything. I don’t really dwell on what I’ve done because like I’m still doing.

BB: I don’t want to ask you any more questions alluding to the past.

IM: I don’t mind talking about what I’ve done, I just don’t think of myself as being done. I don’t worry about the past; I’ll talk about any old damn thing. I’m not ashamed, or embarrassed about anything. Stuff I’ve done I think of as a flight of steps, so every step of the way is necessary. I don’t have any regrets about it, I’m just not stuck on it. How do you compare now with yesterday? Now is always more important. Always.

BB: Because it’s here.

IM: Exactly! (laughs) That’s always been the case. People ask me if music was more important back then. No! Music more important now…always. Because this is where you still have a chance to do something. I actually don’t like people who won’t talk about their past…it drives me crazy. It’s a way to navigate. They climb to the top of a building and pull the ladder. I leave the ladder out so people can see you climbed the ladder.

BB: Because if you pulled the ladder, nobody would know how you got to where you are.

IM: Right. A lot of people do that. They get to a point and then they pull the ladder up. And people go, “Wow, God must have dropped them there from a helicopter.” From my point-of-view, there’s the ladder, I climbed up…your turn.

BB: Are you happy with what you’ve done over the past 22 years or so?

IM: Sure. I’ve been a success since the first day.

BB: That’s a bold statement.

IM: Well, I mean it. The first day I decided to get into punk rock, I was a success in my opinion. The first day I decided to be in a band, that was a very successful idea. The first time I tried to figure out how to play bass…I picked it up, hit the wire with my finger and I was a success because I had achieved what I had set out to do. When we wrote our first song: that was a tremendous success because we had managed to organize sound to resemble something like a song. Then we did a set, a show and every one of these things were fantastic successes, relatively speaking. For me, it’s always been a success. When people ask, “How do you define success?” I define success by coming up with an idea and attempting it. That’s it.

When you attempt, you’re already a success. By saying, “Will I be a successful” or “If I receive an award at some Hollywood shrine…” then you’re fucked. If it’s just a carrot you’re after, you’re never gonna get there.

The music I’m into is made by people who have no choice in the matter. They’re never thinking about the carrot. They’re just thinking about what has to come out of them. And that makes them successful because they attempt to let it out.

BB: Has that success over the past couple of decades been a foundation or building block from each step of the way from picking up the bass to playing a show etc. Is it something that is leading to another level?

IM: I don’t know because I don’t think about that stuff. I don’t know. I’ve never set an agenda over these things. The agenda is on the day. I don’t have an idea where it’s going or when it arrives. Maybe it did arrive. I have no idea.