Bad Copy

The early 2000s truly were a wonderful time for music. You’d hear a band and fall in love. You’d head to Hot Topic to find a shirt from your new favorite band and as you put away your chain wallet you’d notice the stacks of CD samplers on the counter. Never wanting a blank sleeve in your CD binder you’d grab one or three. These samplers threw open the doors to the audio promise land. Back then record labels could have a fanbase just as rabid as the bands they represented and with these samplers they’d could funnel even more of their stable’s music into our eager ears. Genius marketing tactic, BTW. One of these labels was Drive Thru Records. After falling down a sampler rabbit hole thanks to New Found Glory, I eventually graduated to actually purchasing music video samplers searching for that next song to plaster on my Myspace wall and it’s there that I found RX Bandits.

“Analog Boy” from the album Progress struck a chord and cemented the Bandits’ spot on my shopping list. That album lived in my CD player for the next several months. There was something different about RXB. These songs were about more than just looking for love at all the wrong skateparks. Yes, there were songs about girls, but there were also songs about addiction, depression, inequality, war, and the fight for social change. It was heavy stuff all wrapped up in bright choruses, distorted guitars and a killer horn section.

In 2003, RX Bandits followed Progress with The Resignation, an album that seemed to double down on those tougher themes. So, here we are on March 27th, 2005 for the 20th anniversary of The Resignation at Trees in Dallas. I never had the chance to see RXB and was, for a long time, convinced that I never would. Years ago they announced their final tour and I thought the time had come and gone. I would find out from an avid fan in between sets that there had been several occasions when it seemed they’d never play again, but they always returned. Thank God.

Bad Operation opened the evening. They took the stage sporting custom black matching jumpsuits. Bold black and white graphics and video clips played behind them courtesy of Trees’ massive screen. BadOp is a ska punk band from New Orleans. The band formed in 2020 and has been making a name for themselves on the punk/ska circuit opening for heavyweights The Suicide Machines. BadOp delivered a supremely danceable set led by vocalist Dominic Minix as he whipped his hair back and forth and pointed his finger commanding the crowd to move their feet.

The Bandits arrived after a brief intermission with very little in the way of theatrics. No intro music, no pyro, no smoke. The lights dimmed and the band members took up their instruments. Singer Matt Embree squatted to check pedals and tune his guitar. The Resignation comes out of the gate HARD with back to back bangers “Sell You Beautiful,” “Prophetic,” and “Newsstand Rock.” The crowd was ready though. It felt like so many in the room were much like myself – just waiting for this moment. The “3 Songs, No Flash” rule was in effect and that was fine by me. I happily snapped away just soaking in the energy before making my way to the back of the room. The sound was slightly muffled by my earplugs in the front row but once I hit the bar area and removed them I was thoroughly impressed by how much they sounded like the record. That’s a hat tip to both the band and the venue. Not much was said by Embree between songs but halfway through the show he took a moment to scold the government and galvanize the crowd: “Fuck both Democrats and Republicans. They’re all fucking up. Power to the people. We’re all children and grandchildren of immigrants. What’s happening in our country is not right. It’s our responsibility to make it right.” A roar of applause and it was on to the next song.

Obviously there was an encore. After the band wrapped “Decrescendo” and exited the stage the chants of “ONE MORE SONG” began. The Bandits returned. “We’re gonna take it way back…” Embree said as drums and keys rolled into “In All Rwanda’s Glory” from their 2001 album Progress. The night ended with rapid hand claps and voices raised for a thunderous rendition of “Consequential Apathy.” I couldn’t think of a better way to cap the evening than with a couple of songs from an album that dominated my senior year, by a band that I never thought I’d get to see live.