“Sunday night! Nobody goes to work tomorrow. General strike, fuck this country.” Some of Blake Schwarzenbach’s first words on stage during Riot Fest in 2017.
This call from the singer and guitarist of Jawbreaker came loud to the audience between “Boxcar” and “Sluttering (May 4th).” It was possibly one of the most powerful sentiments spoken on stage in over twenty years, or it just gave Chicago the chills.
Jawbreaker taking the stage was an intense moment of anticipation and a release of decades of discontent into the Illinois air. The crowd went crazy, they knew all the words and the sing-a-long that night was an event for a community of punks and never punks alike.
How did we get here? A fan might wonder, but “Don’t Break Down: A Film About Jawbreaker,” will set your wonder straight. It’s out now, available digitally on iTunes, Google Play, and Amazon. Streaming will be available on Amazon Prime.
Directed by Tim Irwin and Keith Schieron, the pair also directed the film “We Jam Econo” about punk gods the Minutemen. Someone looking for a strong documentary will find one here. It’s about the evolution of smart punk, musical storytelling, poetic writing and good context on culture in the nineties.
Blake Schwarzenbach, bassist Chris Bauermeister and drummer Adam Pfahler are telling their own story through this film. It’s the very real journey of a band on the verge of breaking down or breaking up at any minute of their entire existence, until arguably their greatest professional moment, and then — they did just break up.
According to co-producer Dan Didier “Don’t Break Down: A Film About Jawbreaker” was filmed through the years, beginning around 2006 and into 2007. Filming continued around 2011 and the edit began at that time. DIY in its own way, this is a self funded film. When Didier, who is also the drummer of The Promise Ring and Maritime, got involved around 2015/2016 the edit started over leading to its premiere in August 2017 in San Francisco. The additional screenings led to funding the wider digital release.
In a powerful interview scene, a cold walk through what looks like New York where Blake Schwarzenbach lives today, Schwarzenbach explains Bauermeister’s music philosophy, “It was contrapuntal, Chris was interested in contrapuntal melody.”
Contrapuntal is an adjective that means of, relating to, or marked by counterpoint according to Merriam-Webster dictionary.
The interview with Schwarzenbach, cut into pieces and juxtaposed with a Bauermeister interview explaining his four string bass style. Pfahler is then edited in between them both, explaining Bauermeister further.
“He had a lot of good ideas,” as Pfahler is seen on screen illustrating the way Bauermeister is able to clutch the neck of a bass guitar.
Schwarzenbach goes on to explain the tension created by the bass player’s ability to play bass chords and melodies. He describes how that worked against his guitar chords.
“That clash of tones was where we found our sound,” says Schwarzenbach. Then the film dips to black.
This transition scene may be metaphoric to their lives. There’s a ton of point and counterpoint debates and lots of artistic arguments on display in the film. It seems the music held their emotions like the sky holds rain before a storm. The scene is 11 minutes into the picture. Fade up and away we go into the life and music of Jawbreaker.
The film’s highest moments are magnificent studio takes with the band from 2007, a decade before Riot Fest. There is a ton of tension in the frame. It’s like the alchemy of Jawbreaker is oil and water create fire. They are mythic fire waiting to explode.
“You want to fucking kill the mystery,” that’s Schwarzenbach’s sentiment to the directors and the audience.
The documentary is glued together with first hand accounts by musicians like Billie Joe Armstrong from Green Day, Chris Shiflett of Foo Fighters and Me First and the Gimme Gimmes — lots of others. Recording Engineers like Steve Albini, as well as, other record industry executives and producers. There’s tour managers, friends and family interviewed. They all corroborate and add color to the history. Lots of very intelligent and insightful musical people dissect and validate Jawbreaker’s art.
Pfahler has many insightful and peacemaking scenes driving his car, then parked in his car.
“If people ask me why do you think your band is referenced, why people seem to care about it? I would probably say it has everything to do with the words, with Blake’s words.” Pfahler almost laments as he reflects.
The film crescendos with Dear You, their major label debut. Dear You sold 40,000 copies before being taken out of print by Geffen Records. Retrospectively, it’s seen as a masterpiece.
It’s arguable the mid-nineties wasn’t ready for a fully formed Jawbreaker. Conversely, Jawbreaker may not have been ready to stand by the perfection of what they had created. The film is incredibly vulnerable and gets to the heart of what it means to be a band, to be an artist and to be judged for your choices as an artist and a band.
“Don’t Break Down: A Film About Jawbreaker” is metaphorically as if the contents of the mailbags, Pfahler shows off early in the film, are spilled all over the floor and dug through. It’s a time to triangulate these memories and put the band back on a map. The film exposes a passageway back to the band’s genes through their own words with affirmation from those who were there.
See ‘Don’t Break Down’ Here and the best places that stream
Like listening to a lost record, a visual Etc., the album of B-sides and rarities, Jawbreaker’s release from 2002, the film is a gift. Blake Schwarzenbach speaks volumes about discontent, it’s in his DNA. His words are poetry, in song, in this film and live on stage back at Riot Fest 2017, a compass to the roots of radical music. Chris Bauermeister’s bass and perspective give the journey melody. Adam Pfahler never let go of Jawbreaker’s backbeat, their archive or the place in the heart of punk Jawbreaker helped to find. The documentary allows the trio to flow together, hopefully, from the same strange spring the music originated. The film is musical, it’s contrapuntal — stolen from Bauermeister — and it’s as inspirational as the music itself.
Editors Note: The title of this piece and other elements have been updated for clarity
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