Anytime, Anywhere

Mr. Robinson, working out some issues When Push Comes to Punch A pugilist takes the couch L.A. WEEKLY:We know you like to fight, but why? EUGENE ROBINSON:Short answer? It’s expressively honest. There’s no real equivocation in an elbow to the jaw, no pussyfooting about the gray shadings of meaning inherent in civilized and power-shielded discourse. And it’s a potent tie to our immediate and ever-present animal. Now words are all well and good and like the Meat Puppets say, “Well, who needs action” when you got words, but in a land where words have ceased having meaning, this will have to do. Nicely. The problem here is, largely, this has become themodel for our national discourse. In other words, fighting has become trendy. Not the stuff in the ring, which I will love no matter what, but the idea that words are an embarrassment used only by those who do not know how, can’t, or are afraid to fight. Remember, I chooseto fight and I do so not because I have no other choice but because it’s frequently, in the wide and rainbowed palette of personal expressions, the expression that people seem to most want to see. So my reasons for wanting to fight are: Part Florence Nightingale: It’s not unusual for me to be thankedby the beaten. If not right away, then later. I’m not a bully and only fight as a last recourse, and if it’s some ass clown who’s been pushing and pushing, well, he’s thanking me for teaching him a lesson as gently as a hardhead like him is likely to notice. Part Ted Bundy: Vast wellsprings of rage, the sources of which go back to early-life Freudian shit having everything to do with every single existential and psychosexual issue you can ever imagine. Not to politicize my way around this but I’ve got a very, um, very complicated relationship with other human beings. Part Zorba the Greek: I like to fight. But what about the moral and legal repercussions?If you are a reactive fighter, not a bully, the law affords you a good deal of latitude. I mean, under the auspices of defendingyourself you can get away with murder. Literally. Also, being well dressed, sober and articulate can be a great saving grace and a license for the aforementioned murder. I was at this party, trying to make my way through the crowd to get out. The police were breaking things up. A biker stood in my way. I said, “Excuse me.” He belched. I walked around to the left. He stepped in front of me. I walked to the right. He walked to the right. I looked at him and said, “I’m going to give you until the count of three to get the fuck out of my way. One... two...” (Always go ON the number three, please.) I broke his nose and shattered his cheekbone with three solid right crosses that put him down, as luck would have it, right at the feet of the cops, who asked me what happened. Well, I looked at the unconscious biker, drunk, covered in blood and beer; I looked at the cop and said as honestly as possible, “He fell.” Good enough for the cop who arrested... HIM... on the spot. This covers the legal ramifications. As for moral ramifications? None to speak of that I know about. I mean, to quote AC/DC, “I never shot nobody that didn’t carry a gun.” I mean, sure, sure, you cry a few crocodile tears if you’re around a woman who you like and you want a few extra-special points for Alan Alda–esque sensitivities and a certain amount of noble savagery. The reality though? It’s as fun as the most fun thing you could ever do. Crushing your enemies, driving them before you and hearing the lamentation of their women? It doesn’t get much better than this. Is this what your teacher, Marcus Vinicius, taught you?Marcus Vinicius is one of the greatest men and fighters that I know. He’s a gentleman and in true Brazilian fashion would be shocked and appalled at my extracurricular application of a discipline that he reveres. He pursues the fight game globally. I’ve spent time with him in Russia and here. He’s gone to Serbia, Italy, the Amazon Rain Forest, Japan and Puerto Rico in search of the Apollonian heart of this Dionysus. While Marcus has taught me the finer points of Brazilian Jiu-Jitsu — a coterie of chokes, cranks and debilitating arm bars — his South American mix of an easygoing love of life combined with a certain machismo made my distinctly North American assholishness something I necessarily had to leave at the door. But make no mistake, what he taught me, he taught me to great effect. Translation: If I’ve choked you the fuck out, don’t thank me. Thank the great Marcus Vinicius. How did OXBOW become part band, part fight club?OXBOW is allband, and if you were looking for four musicians more serious about playing the music they play, you couldn’t find any. Serious. Pretentious. Portentous. It is not easy music to play. Unfortunately this means that in concert the most important thingfor us is the playingof that music. Not the fact that you want to show your friends how funny it is to piss off the Negro with the knife on stage in his underwear by screaming shit at him that would get you largely the same treatment streetside sansthe amps, the speakers and all the rest. In any case, because disrespect seems to beget disrespect, if you don’t want to hear the music and you don’t want us to play the music we’re being paid to play, well, it seems that leaves very little doubt as to what you really want: to get to know us better. Closer. More intimately. And you will. But yeah, your instincts are right here. There was an evolution to this position. It occurred one night when a “friend” taunted us the whole show. Because he was a “friend,” we gave him a pass. But after the show it felt so bad, like we had failed as musicians andartists, that we decided to NEVER, EVER again ignore the reality of the moment. To never ignore the hereness and the nowness of this Zen two-step between you and us. And so it goes: We’re engaged in the collective creation of a piece of art. It’s as egalitarian as it gets. Everyone participates. For good or ill. But the most important thing to note here is when playing a show, we’d always rather just finish playing the show than fight. (That is the collective WE.) And when fighting a fight we’d always rather just finish fighting the fight than play the show. Can you beat me?Beyond a shadow of a doubt.

—Joe Donnelly

OXBOW’s most recent record,An Evil Heat, is on Neurot Records, while their newest DVD,Love That’s Last, is being released by Hydrahead.