Every so often, a band comes around that is simply the best at what they do, and there’s nothing anyone can do to argue against it. They carry the unstoppable combination of immeasurable talent and fearless experimentalism that makes them legends in their own right and inspire countless others to follow in their footsteps. The Beatles were that kind of band. Radiohead still is (I’ll fight anyone who says King of Limbs wasn’t great). And friends, if you don’t already know, Fugazi was that kind of band. If you know nothing about Fugazi, just know that Fugazi was the Radiohead of punk rock.

Once upon a time, there were two hardcore bands named Minor Threat and Rites of Spring. Minor Threat played aggressive, heavy-handed, politically charged tunes that railed against corruption and recreational drugs. When Minor Threat spoke, the people listened, and Straight Edgers were born. Rites of Spring on the other hand were a little more sensitive–they didn’t scream as much as moan, and their lyrics talked more about love and isolation and other emotional topics, and so their detractors called them “emo” and pointed and laughed. As often happens, both bands broke up. Then the frontmen of each band got together with RoS’s drummer and a new bassist and started a band called Fugazi. Anyone wondering whether Fugazi would sound more like Minor Threat or Rites of Spring was surprised to find that the answer was mostly neither. Sure, the music was still filled with shouting and buzzsaw guitars and fast drums, but there was something entirely new to it. Something that the pictures of Guy Picciotto  throwing himself to the ground didn’t hint at. Because when I think of Fugazi, hardcore isn’t the first thing that comes to my mind, and neither are the lyrics that jump hard between political rants, emotional pleas, abstract imagery, or punk-sneering. What I think of is jazz. The bass and drums building grooves that will last forever. The way the guitars seem to be untied from the rhythm section somehow. The composition in the way that everything moves from one section to the next without falling into four chords and a crowd shout. Fugazi were the anti-Ramones. Fugazi were a jazz combo and a beat-poetry megaphone disguised as a punk band. They were composers operating in the form of hardcore. And even though their later albums wore their eclectic influences more obviously, 7 Songs is hardly a primitive debut. Rather, it’s the shadow of things to come, betraying their size and outline, but keeping their colors and textures a secret.