This is the show that Positive Force has likely wanted to put on for several years. As punk rock torch bearer Ted Leo noted mid-set, “I’m not from here, nor do I live here now, but I spent so many formative years here that it feels like home.” So, with only the bare minimum of promotion, the band that regularly fills The Black Cat and the 9:30 Club, put the largest crowd into the Sacred Heart Church that Positive Force founder Mark Andersen said he had seen since Fugazi played the same space in 1991.
As such, there was no way this show was going to be anything but great. No lack of refreshments nor abysmal acoustics — which actually was somewhat problematic for the otherwise fantastic openers, Medications — nor lack of real ventilation was going to stain this show. In fact, like any true basement show, these factors actually accentuated the energy exhibited by Leo, bassist James Canty and drummer Chris Wilson.
That energy was infectious. When Leo, via a vocal impersonation of Paul Stanley, encouraged the crowd to sing along during “Me and Mia” (and in fact for the remainder of the show), they responded with full voices. When he half-jokingly asked the crowd if it approved of his setlist choices (which spanned his past five albums), he responded with relief at the crowd’s response: applause, rather than a request for “Timorous Me”.
Leo was also a perfect candidate for a Positive Force show, as his politics have always been central to his material. For instance, he quipped after playing Hearts of Oak‘s “I’m A Ghost” that contrary to popular belief, the song was not about a little white floaty creature that kept the toaster from working correctly, but about being ignored by the political machine. As such, Leo utilized his bantering time to speak in favor of both Occupy DC (“these are things that a lot of people have been complaining about for a long time”) and the charities both local (We Are Family DC) and national (National Day Laborer Organizing Network) benefitting from the performance. He also encouraged the attendees at the show to continue works of activism and talk to each other and the folks manning the many tables set up in the back of the room.
Leo, either in solo or band format, reliably comes through D.C. (or Baltimore) once or twice a year. Anyone who missed this particular show didn’t miss any insane highlights like his parking lot performance after the power outage at the Ottobar or the extremely wild performance of “Ballad of the Sin Eater” that brought the 9:30 Club to its knees. However, this show was equally memorable, not so much because of any particular song (although seeing the kick moves he displays during closer “Stove By A Whale” is always a treat). Rather, it’s because every single element of that show from the all-ages friendly space to the vital and meaningful performances to the turnout of truly excited patrons highlighted how important Leo remains to a punk rock landscape that’s still purposeful and very much alive.
