Poster boy for Punk

ONE OF THE CORE TENETS OF PUNK ROCK is “surround yourself with good people.”

Ha! Are you nuts?

Of course it isn’t!

… And yet the survival and continued growth of Minneapolis punk stalwarts Off With Their Heads is predicated on that beneficent premise — at least according to band founder/leader Ryan Young.

But it’s important to point out Young arrived at the “good people” creed only after long years of the incredibly self-destructive and us-against-them behavior more typically associated with a punk lifestyle.

“When I was young, I was a bit of a hellion, and that attitude was something integral to punk rock that I liked,” Young laughs. He’s on the phone from Chicago, shortly before heading out on a northeastern swing by a twoman edition of Off With Their Heads that will stop in New London Feb. 18 for a show at 33 Golden Street. “I wanted to play music, but I didn’t really have any talent other than attitude. The appeal of punk was that you didn’t need (talent). In fact, we didn’t need the music business and we didn’t need anyone else. We were self-sufficient, and I liked the idea of ‘(Screw) everyone else!’”

This “Wandering Duo Tour” celebrates the 20th anniversary of Off With Their Heads, and the lineup — with the band’s longtime drummer Kyle Manning joining Young — will spin new arrangements of old favorites and obscurities, play some cover tunes and probably share some anecdotes from decades of wild international touring. The stripped-down concept isn’t particularly unusual.

A fresh approach

There’s always been a revolving door approach to OWTH personnel with Young the mainstay and over 30 different musicians popping in and out over time. That

has allowed the band to stay reasonably fresh given a relentless early touring schedule that nearly killed Young and led to a nervous breakdown. Fortunately, Young got help through counseling and recalibrating the mission of the band.

“I’ve been through the ODs and the losing relationships and the bad side of it all. I took that and turned it around,” Young says. “Now, Kyle, who’s a close friend as well as a bandmate, and I are searching for the vibe and energy that hooked us on punk in the first place — but with the wisdom that comes with getting older. That means a different mission and choices.”

Along with overseeing the band — including booking, handling the music catalog and operating a company that designs, manufactures and provides T-shirts and merchandise for dozens of acts (and routinely channels profits into charitable causes) — Young has found fulfillment through a long-running podcast called “Anxious and Angry.”

“(On the podcast) I talk to other people in the creative business about their mental struggles,” Young says. “I think it’s good for those of us having the conversation as well as the listeners. It’s helped me learn that, OK, I couldn’t have a career where I just continually partied. I needed to do something good. I’m not saying I want to be Tony Robbins, but I want some positivity in my musical career.”

A turning point album

Through Young’s breakdown and recovery, there was a long period between albums before the band signed with renowned punk label Epitaph Records, which is owned by Bad Religion guitarist Brett Gurewitz. In 2019, they released “Be Good,” an album of relentless, raw punk energy where righteous anger over the state of the nation, the world and their own experiences is crafted with a liberal dose of laugh-out-loud humor. It’s as though Young and company are happy to acknowledge misery, but rather than using that as a cannon to blast into the abyss, they’re trying to do something about it.

Significantly, OWTH made the album at Pachyderm Studios in Cannon Falls, Minnesota — where Nirvana did their “In Utero” album.

“The studio is in a mid-century modern mansion, so you stay there for the duration of the recording,” Young says. “It was such a cool experience. There’s a pool and we were able to actually relax a bit while we were there. We always try to write lyrics in the studio so they’re fresh and genuine, and I remember thinking how different they sounded. How much of a positive vibe there is.

“Plus, the idea that Nirvana recorded a classic album there adds a sense of history that’s very cool. And the whole time we were there, I kept thinking about growing up on my family’s farm, getting into punk and bands like Bad Religion. And suddenly we were making a record and a guy from Bad Religion was paying for it! I’m living proof that anything can happen.”

An old connection

For the first few months of the 2023 tour, OWTH are consciously performing in towns and at venues they’ve either never visited or at least not in a long time. And while they opened for the Dropkick Murphys at Mohegan Sun Arena, this is the first time they’ve been in New London.

The booking came courtesy of Stuart Fensom, a New London resident and musician who met Young years ago when their bands shared a bill in North Carolina. The two bonded, post-set, over conversation and Natural Light beers in the club parking lot, and a friendship was born.

Now living in New London and playing in the band Rogue March, Fensom heard OWTH was touring in their twopiece unit, looking for new places to play, and thought they’d enjoy the Whaling City. Fensom reached out to Craig McCalister and Gene Barousse at 33 Golden Street, a punk and hardcore mainstay venue, and they signed on.

Just as important as seeing his old friend and sharing a musical bill, Fensom is, like Young, a survivor of punk extremes who’s emerged wiser and yet still loyal to the core possibilities of the music.

Punk survival

“Gone is (my) desire to rush head-first into every circle pit I see, and gone is the stoneblind optimism that punk rock will someday save the world,” Fensom says. “I honestly used to believe that. But I was around it long enough to see the cliques, the hypocrisy, the misguided anger, the drugs, the complacency … That being said, it’s still my religion. It’s the only thing that has always been there for me. (I was a) teenager from a redneck town, and punk rock saved thousands of kids like me, gave us something to believe in, and gave us the greatest possible outlet for our creativity and anger. I feel like I am forever indebted to it.”

That Young and Fensom have maintained their allegiance to punk, as refined through painful experiences therein, is after all maybe part of the purpose of art.

“I realized there were bad people in punk as much as in corporate America or the frat world,” Young says. “I’ve figured out what I like and what’s important about punk music. I like being connected to people who enjoy what we do. I like booking our shows and planning my own tours and making our records. Somewhere along the way, I’d forgotten all that. I’d allowed my own demons to take the wheel. I’m at a place now where I love what I do. I like who I am and I surround myself with good people.”