It is a moon-lit night in Portland, Maine, on 9 April 1995. The doors to the University of Southern Maine gym, where Fugazi is set to play, are still locked. A huge crowd spreads out into the parking lot, spilling over onto the grass. The full moon above casts moving shadows of masses of expectant people over the ground.

Inside the gym, a few people milling about. It is quiet. The proverbial eye of the tornado. Soon this room will be full of over fifteen hundred fans; the walls and floors will literally be quaking to the sound of Fugazi.

If the spirit of rock & roll still lives, breathes, and kicks ass, it definitely rides shotgun with Fugazi. A live show by Fugazi is an emotionally powerful, hard-core tour de force; and the audience, who crowd up against the stage once they are let in, know it. And then they are there, taking over the stage the stage, exploding into their set with remarkable fervor and power. The electricity courses through the air. I experience the impact first hand from inside the line of a roll of crepe paper that stretches from each side of the stacks to the wall and serves as an extemporaneous crowd barrier, a reminder to the fans to leave a little air between themselves and the stage.

Band leader Ian MacKaye asks the highly charged crowd to challenge themselves in a new way, to jump up and down, to be cool with each other and to not push forward against the stage.

As the volume comes up, the crowd directly in front of the stage becomes a human sea, bodies literally thrown into the air, surfing over head, only to be carried in its currents before they drop out of sight. Into the third song sweat drips down Ian's face and arms as he and Fugazi play the crowd into varying levels of hard-core hypnosis.

MacKaye stops at one point early on and asks the crowd directly in front, pointing with his hand, if they are having a good time, if they are cool. They scream back and he turns to the left side of the room and asks again, and then asks the right side of the room and they, too, scream back. I look and see that everyone directly around me, and the hundreds of faces that slowly recede into darkness, are smiling and grooving.

At one point, a young girl jumps up onto the stage and starts dancing. Fugazi keep playing as she strolls around looking glassy-eyed and smiling. MacKaye stops the music and says to the crowd, "I want to introduce you to the newest member of the band." The crowd screams and Ian turns to her and asks her name. She does not seem to understand and he gently walks her to the edge of the stage and sits her down.

While the huge crowd in front of the stage is packed tightly together and the mosh pit rarely slackens up, as I move to the periphery of the room, small groups of people sit on the floor in circles trying to somehow communicate over the amperage while twos and threes are holding hands and swaying to the music. The show is a happening with multiple levels of audience involvement.

For Fugazi­­who played their first show in the Fall of 1987 after Ian MacKaye's tenure with the punk rock band Minor Threat and the short lived band Embrace­­it has always been about the music, as Ian MacKaye stresses in no uncertain terms. Fugazi's lead singer/guitar player is joined in the endeavor that is Fugazi by Guy Picciotto, guitar and vocals; Brendan Canty, drums; and Joe Lally, bass. All grew up in Washington, DC and its environs. Fugazi has toured constantly all over the United States for the last seven years, with the exception of 1994 which was mostly spent at home working on their new album, Red Medicine. In the Rolling Stone Reader's Poll, the group was named "The Best Live Band in America."

Under MacKaye's steady hand, Fugazi has released eight recorded works since 1988: Fugazi, a 7 song EP released in 1988; State of the Union, a compilation released in 1989; Margin Walker, a 6 song EP released in 1989; 3 Songs, a 7" released in 1989; Repeater, an 11 song LP released in 1990; Steady Diet of Nothing, an 11 song LP released in 1991; In on the Kill Taker, a 12 song LP released in June of 1993; and Red Medicine, the 13 song LP recently released in Europe and set for June release in the United States.

Fugazi are known for being resolutely indie. All of their recordings have been released solely on MacKaye's independent label, Dischord Records, which he started with Jeff Nelson while in a band prior to Minor Threat called Teen Idles. The group routinely sells out venues where ever they play, keeping ticket prices at a low, low $5. No merchandise stands to be found at the shows. Records and tapes are sold post paid for under $10 dollars and frequently can be found at these prices at the few retail record stores that carry them.

Whether Fugazi's music is radio-friendly or not is irrelevant; the word about this band has spread throughout the world without benefit or commercial airplay and they is able to survive just fine with the support of thousands upon thousands of fans who buy their albums and attend its shows. Fugazi does not advertise or otherwise hype their shows or records in ways that even bands that are several orders of magnitude less of a draw than Fugazi do. While Fugazi has a small devoted staff at Dischord working for them, Ian still handles much of the day to day management both at home and on the road.

Fugazi's music is loosely identifiable as hard-core punk rock. Material ranges widely from tunes off of In on the Kill Taker, such as "Sweet and Low," a moving all most dirge-like instrumental; and "Great Cop," a song that hits you bodily like a flood of churning water escaping from a broken dam; to "Bed for the Scraping," from Fugazi's latest effort, Red Medicine, that contains guitar riffs reminiscent of Robert Fripp's work and explodes out of your speakers, climbs into your head, and then will not let go.

Inside the gym, as Ian MacKaye and Guy Picciotto jam on their guitars, Brendan Canty pounds out solid, precise time on the drum set and Joe Lally provides a strong foundation on bass, I can't help but think that the rare conversation I was fortunate to have with Ian MacKaye before Fugazi took the stage probably would not have occurred if I worked for a traditional print publication. The Internet is a very different communication medium, and I have to believe that Ian feels more comfortable speaking to Fugazi fans in this way.

Backstage With Fugazi: The Interview

[Editor's note: Adam Cassel interviewed Ian MacKaye before the group's performance that night. To more accurately portray his interaction with MacKaye, Cassell has inserted some narrative throughout the interview. We've placed his thoughts and observations, as opposed to his questions, in brackets. Enough of that. Here's how the conversation went down.]

I meet Ian MacKaye in a classroom, above the gym and the stage. He invites me to sit down and wait to talk to him until after the band finishes eating. I do not introduce myself to the other members of Fugazi and they do not volunteer to remove the awkwardness by introducing themselves. Some of the members of the first opening act, Karate, stroll and linger around, laughing and joking with each other.

The music of Unwound, the second group on the bill, reverberates loudly through the building. Ian stands at a window that faces out onto the gym, looking far down on the floor below. He seems lost in a private reverie; I hesitate to interrupt. Finally I join him at the window, and the view of the dark and cavernous room reveals a crowd of over 1500 people undulating rhythmically beneath us. I ask him what is going on, and our conversation begins.

Ian MacKaye : Maine is a very fucking extreme place man. These kids are just amped. It makes me nervous because the stage is not very stable, the stacks definitely aren't very stable. The stage can move back like 10 feet so. I'm a little nervous about that. Last time we were here we had problems with some particular thugs. Well, the kids don't look very thuggish this time.

I don't know if you were at that warehouse gig [Fugazi's last performance in the area, about a year ago, at the Warehouse].

ATN: No. I know it was out near the Eastern promenade. You sold that show out.

{Out of some nervousness, and the not unlikely fear that he might tell me to fuck off, I neglect to appropriately ask MacKaye if he minds if I start recording our conversation. He mentions this and I apologize. As our discussion continues, I come to realize that MacKaye is very aware of everything that goes on around him. He seems to state his impressions with a confidence that makes them seem as if they are matters of fact. }

{MacKaye seems never to be overly impressed with his own insights nor does he over react to people's mistakes or behavior. His gaze seems to alight on the world around him with neither too much fear nor too much favor. He does not at any point become really excited, except maybe when he demonstrates to me a particular style of Brazilian karate that he says evolved as a sort of dance form. His opinions flow from him evenly and sometimes with a light and refreshing touch of humor. It occurs to me that MacKaye, at least this evening, reserves his emotional intensity for the show.}

MacKaye: I don't remember[if we sold out that show]; it was a lot of people. Well mostly just look at them [the audience] and try and figure it out. So if you're recording all this stuff you should definitely make sure you let people know.

ATN: Oh yeah, I'm sorry.

MacKaye: The other thing too is everything you just heard in that room belongs in that room. That's just like people's own lives.

ATN: Also, if you want to say something to me that needs to be off-the-record, just say so.

MacKaye: I will don't worry. I'm really straight forward about that. Understand that when you come into the band's dressing room or you're hanging out as a guest, then you're a friend of the band. And everything that goes on there just belongs in that dressing room. It doesn't translate to print usually.

ATN: [Not hearing him.] I'm sorry..?

MacKaye: It doesn't usually translate to print the kind of goofy shit that...It's out of context. We're very well known as a band that's supposedly completely humorless, but the fact of the matter is that we spend most of our time laughing and goofing off. It's just that ...We're not going to publicize that.

MacKaye: Now if you look, you can see some kids, a little circle of kids. There is a couple of bad dudes in there. I can see them already. I can pick there thing already. They are much more concerned about what's happening in their little thing...

ATN: Than listening to music.

MacKaye: Right. Well, you don't know what. Than in anything else that is going on. The kids in front are just goofing off, but that little circle right there...

ATN: [I point to a space in the crowd near the stage] Getting a little rowdy.

MacKaye: Well, no. I mean not up there. That is not a problem. More in the back. It's the little opening. Everyone in front is just, like I say, is kids kind of freaking out. But if you watch the little circle, you'll see sort of a weird territorial thing going on. That's why there's a circle there because people are standing away from it. Another tell-tale thing to look out for is those lights there on those little yellow poles. [Ian points to the klieg's] If they start wobbling you know the stage is moving like crazy.

ATN: Which means people are pushing against the stage.

MacKaye: People are definitely pushing against it already. Unfortunately, when we play, its going to be that much worse because think about like a thousand kids pushing against that stage.

ATN: It's interesting to me that you are concerned on that level. Beyond being concerned about someone getting hurt and suing you.

MacKaye: I just think about it in terms of: it is just no fun. It's a fucking drag to have to be worried about what happens at a gig. It's no fun. It's just no fun when you're playing to think...

{Ian changes the track of his thinking and starts a new sentence. He seems to do this several times, questioning himself as if to search for answers that make the most sense, that are honest, that express his real thoughts and feelings.}

MacKaye: People say, "What is the deal with your fucking anti-mosh stuff." Whatever. "Anti-stage diving." It just makes the gig no fun because once you have to start worrying about the crowd itself and worry about people getting hurt... I mean actually a number of people go out on backboards; it's not much fun. And also a kid who comes up you definitely have to worry about it, but if we are thinking about the stage falling down then we're not thinking about our music anymore. But it also really has nothing to do with the music. I mean listen to this music and look at the way these kids are behaving. It has nothing to do with the music whatsoever. It has everything to do with a particular sort of almost tribal association or behavioral kind of pattern that comes up.

ATN: In group situations?

MacKaye: No. In this particular venue it's just the way it is. I mean, if this was like a country band you wouldn't be seeing this shit. It's just that the people who come to these shows are like, "OK this is what you're supposed to do," and as soon as the volume comes up to any level they go for it. Again, its almost completely volume based. We will play songs that are real groove oriented, but when the guitars come in, everyone goes fucking nuts. See the lighters, that's kids making fun of the band.