
15 June 2023 – The Tivoli, Brisbane – words by Bec Harbour
When I have previously seen Henry Rollins’ spoken word shows, he has been travelling and his show is full of his latest explorations of the world. This show is fresh off the back of Covid lockdowns and I was very curious as to how Henry spent his time and what the show would be like without his travel anecdotes.
Thursday night was already getting cold when we approached the Tivoli with the line for the sold-out show going all the way down Costin Street to the next block. People were buoyant in the line while they bunched up to friends to try to fend off the early evening chill creeping in. Once in the Tivoli we were greeted by an usher to show us to our seats. Interestingly enough the last time I went to a seated gig was during the Covid lockdown times – it was odd to see the Tivoli full of seats rather than packed in bodies at a regular gig.
With a playlist (was it handpicked by Henry?) playing tunes by Kraftwerk, The Ruts, Suicide and Glaxo Babies, everyone got into their seats in anticipation for Henry. Henry is a music consumer and has fronted two seminal bands, Black Flag and The Rollins Band so we were speculating if he did program the great punk music on the PA.
The lights dimmed and Henry came out on stage and we strapped in because we were on the Henry Rollins express bus now.
And for over 2 hours he spoke and had the audience in the palm of his hand, masterfully using microphone volume to punctuate (and scare the shit out of the front row) his stories. And while the stories seemed to jump all over, the thread that held them together was his desire to have a full life and a life well lived (but more about that later).
We are treated to an insight of how some of the more bizarre regression of women’s and minority rights could be solved as well (give them guns in line with the 2nd amendment to deal with rapists) as some of the glaringly obvious legal regressions in the US (not everyone is equal in the eyes of US law – money does talk). With of course the caveat, that they are far too extreme to even be considered.
Of course, Henry was going to speak about Covid and Trump, the 2 things that have dominated the American landscape since he last toured. He got that out of the way and moved onto the tour that he was now on that began last year with a story of being in the Midwest of the United States and how when he tours it’s a lot of old theatres and he uses a tour bus that may or may not have once been used by some hair metal bands that is usually parked out the back.
I would like to pause here, as Henry side-tracks into the fact that he doesn’t think that he can pull women, I know quite a few women who would happily oblige him. But I digress. The story continues on with him providing some time to some young fans when an angry 30-something man rocks up accusing Henry of having his wife in the bus. Then said wife comes along and metaphorically gut-punches the guy and hauls him off, letting the assembled group know “he gets like this every-time he is drunk”.
Henry muses about how that must feel for this woman to retrieve her twit of a husband all the time but almost admires the fact that the woman makes this guy disappear into himself while doing it.
Then we hear about Henry’s childhood, his mother Iris and the trajectory that has made him the person he is today. It’s a somewhat uncomfortable story that will make sense later in another story as to why he may have acted the way he did. We hear about Ian Mackaye, singer of Minor Threat, Fugazi and owner of Dischord Records and Henry’s best friend since he was 11 or 12. And we hear about his mother’s descent into old age, dementia and eventually her death and how Henry deals with this (his mother’s ashes are currently residing in his car’s glovebox thanks to Ian Mackaye retrieving a packet). Its sentimental but not mushy and this story is here for a reason.
Henry segues into the next story, the infamous Finnish stalker. While this is an amusing anecdote there is that undercurrent of something else, the moral of the story or a fable. Covid and its associated isolations and difficulties changed us all and maybe I have missed it at previous spoken words but the theme woven through this story is that all is never as it appears to be. The stalker, rather than being a run-of-the-mill burglar or home invader is mentally ill, and Henry is faced with the choice of having him locked up in the US penal system or having him go home with his mother for treatment.
This is where my admiration for Henry Rollins was cemented in forever. The wind up of the story was about the fact that we really don’t know what other people are going through and the appearance of what is on the surface may not be the whole story. This from a man who lives at the end of a cul-de-sac, in a house in the woods, who apparently hasn’t much time for people, actually wants the next generation to be better and thinks that they will be.
All of Henry’s stories have a point, his childhood, living with alcoholic parents and the coping mechanisms that have evolved, his friendships, his need for solitude, his collector nature (I would really like to have a day in his record collection), has culminated in his punk ethos to not judge, listen to others and be there for that younger generation. As usual, it was a full-on experience, but jeez, it was good to see you again Henry!