The Best Record of 1989, Day 61: #11 Fugazi, 13 Songs vs. #118 Paul McCartney, Flowers in the Dirt.
Good morning!
Today we’re taking a quick look at records from Fugazi and Paul McCartney
Note: As many of you know, I recently wrote about a Best Record of 1989 challenge and noted that I’d occasionally write some of these up.
I’ve started doing some quick hits of each matchup and posting them directly to the page. Some will be longer, some won’t, and some might just be a handful of sentences. There’ll probably definitely be some typos.
Check ’em out and let me know your thoughts! Chin wags & hot takes welcome! Sharing and restacks are always appreciated.
Note: Today’s piece on Fugazi draws heavily from this one I wrote as part of our Top 100 Records series from last year. That article specifically discussed the Repeater LP, but if anything, my feeling for the band itself has only grown in the months since.
KA—
Fugazi, 13 Songs
Some records change your life, but rarely does a band come along that changes the way you live. Fugazi did both. In an era when selling out was still a four-letter word, the band did what they did best: they lived their lives on their terms. They could make a compelling case for why you should be on their team, but if you weren’t, that was okay, too. It was a big tent, and their live-and-let-live mindset was a far cry from the straight-edge kids who had teased those threads to their extreme and spent shows looking for drinks to knock out of people’s hands.
Speaking of those shows, the band capped admission at $5 and insisted they be all-ages. I imagine that eventually paid off in the form of increased record sales, but they left a lot of money on the table then. Same with shying away from selling merch and staying on their homegrown Dischord label. Respect and street cred are all well and good, but they don’t pay the rent. But here’s the thing: that DIY ethic wasn’t just a gimmick for Fugazi; it was everything. When one of your songs has a chorus that screams, “You are not what you own,” selling t-shirts becomes a little tricky.
The band held themselves to a high ethical standard, and none of it would’ve mattered if the music wasn’t any good.
But about that record…
Before the postcards from Pedantry Place start filling my mailbox, yes, I know 13 Songs is technically the combo of Fugazi’s self-titled and Margin Walker EPs. So does almost everyone else reading this. You should also know that Margin Walker itself barely missed the cut to be in the tourney. A tourney that somehow has Godflesh and Cardiacs. In other words, I’m just happy this one’s here. No Fugazi would’ve been a real injustice.
At any rate, the short version is this: before they’d even released an LP proper (the incredible Repeater), they had already made a statement record (or two, really) that were then combined to make this, kicking off a decade-plus run of statement records and declarative statements.
If you know nothing else about this band, you likely know the bassline/intro to “Waiting Room.” By this point, it’s been in everything from viral clips of kids covering it at bandcamp to Metallica briefly playing it on stage during one of the “jamming” sessions they do at every show.
The record is also home to “Bulldog Front” and “Promises,” both blistering, both taking aim at something and taking no prisoners. Perhaps more than anything, Fugzai is best at demolishing someone or something (shitty friends, sexism, rampant consumerism), and doing it to one of the funkiest beats to NOT come from an 808.
It’s also worth mentioning that, as iconic as the “Waiting Room” bass line is, it’s not the only one of note here; “Bad Mouth” is another one. The chunky riffs on Margin Walker are infectious.
Who else but this band could get us to sing along to lines like:
Untraceable, untranslatable
I can’t explain all I ever wanted to do
Trajectory passing right through me
Threads my needle sends it right to you.
They can be preachy, sure, but it’s all for a good cause, and all set to a great sound. The music is softer than that of predecessor bands like Rites of Spring and Minor Threat, but if anything, the message is stronger. And it’s important to note that none of these records were promoted as usual- no merch, no guest hosting on 120 Minutes, etc. The entire thing was built on word of mouth, flyers on telephone poles, and blistering shows for the unheard of (even then) price of $5. This felt subversive in 1989. In 2025, it feels downright revolutionary. And in a lot of ways, it was.
On paper, Fugazi is still a band. In reality, they’ve been on hiatus for over twenty years now. Occasionally, a rumor pops up that they’ve again left money on the table by refusing to reunite to play a festival. Sometimes, there are even whispers that they’re getting back together. But nothing has come of it yet, and most of it is just white noise and/or wishful thinking.
Again, I’m going off memory, but I also recall the shows being played with just regular lights. Other than them coming up and going down, nothing changed throughout the setlist- no color, no nothing. The spotlight was on the music itself. Fugazi wouldn’t have had it any other way.
Paul McCartney, Flowers in the Dirt
My grandmother liked to go to the movies, and we had an informal deal; sometimes I got to pick, and sometimes she did. That s how we ended up seeing Breakin’2 in the theaters, but also how we wound up enduring “Give My Regards to Broadstreet,” whose soundtrack was, well, not well regarded. It gave us one “okay” hit (“No More Lonely Nights” and the rest of the film is probably best left forgotten. This is a long way of saying that the 80s were not McCartney’s best era.
Like a kid doing a great final project to salvage a grade after a term of sleeping through class, Flowers in the Dirt was a good—not great—record to end the decade. I don’t know if I’d consider it a comeback per se, but it’s close enough.
The most notable thing here is the collaboration with Elvis Costello. The two worked side by side in the studio, with some tracks ending up here and some going to Costello’s records (including “Veronica”). This pairing works better than I would ‘ve thought. I get that both are from Liverpool, travel in similar musical circles, etc. I guess I didn’t expect them to click the way they did. To me, Costello has always had just the right amount of cynicism, while McCartney has seemed sunny to a fault (I realize this doesn’t necessarily reflect reality, only my interpretations of their respective catalogs). In 2017, the record was re-released as a ‘special edition,’ and those bonus tracks/demos/outtakes are even better than the original. That doesn’t happen too often.
My vote: Shame that McCartney is up against one of my favorite records of all time here. Flowers in the Dirt was far more enjoyable than I’d expected—enough so that I did a quick search to see if any copies were “priced to move” on Discogs. The winner here also (I think?) will have a relatively easy next match, facing either The Pogues or Nomeansno in Round 2. That said, there are countless people whose lives were changed by The Beatles. Fugazi changed mine, and that’s who’ll be getting my vote today.
Any thoughts on either of these records? Agree/disagree with my takes? Which one of these would you vote for? Sound off in the comments!
Check out the full bracket here.
Info on the tourney, voting, and more is here.
As always, thanks for being here.
KA—
Kevin Sent 