CHUMBAWAMBA
The Fillmore, San Francisco, March 2, 1998
They're British, they write catchy songs, they're good looking, and they've got a smash hit single ("Tubthumping") from their top-selling album, Tubthumper. That's how most people know 'em, as if they're just one more one-dimensional one-hit wonder. This image was smashed during a recent performance at the Fillmore, as fans young and old witnessed a highly entertaining musical-political vaudeville act by a band that's been doing it for years.

Chumbawamba, an eight-member Leeds-based collective, toiled in relative obscurity for about 15 years, churning out highly politicized, anarchistic rhetoric to a small but loyal following. They've remained anti-government, anti-capitalism, anti-war, anti-hate, and anti-commercialism. Throughout their nine-album career, the band's proudly worn their politics on their [record jacket] sleeves, encouraging political action groups to attend their shows, and writing the best anthemic rallying cries since their British punk predecessors invented the genre a decade before them. Now, whether or not anyone cares about the group's political stance, the band's finally got a captive audience.

Before they even took the stage, a giant billboard of Tubthumper's creepy baby-faced cover art grinned out at the audience; he knew what lay in store. For a few moments, spoken-word samples flowed out of the speakers, like some Pink Floyd audio collage. Then the troupe came out, waving their arms, smoking cigarettes, playing to the audience.

It's hard to keep track of eight people onstage, especially since they switch roles so often. Ever democratic, Chumbawamba (made up of five men and three women), balance the singing duties -- thereby preventing monotony and exhaustion. As one song wove into the next, the lead singers exited and re-emerged, always in new costumes. Every outfit -- like every prop and lyric -- seemed to carry a political message. Lead singers emerged wearing boxing gloves, a brick-pattern suit, a black mask, a white suit, a black suit, even a flying nun outfit. It seemed equal parts fashion runway, theater stage, and rock club.

Chumbawamba undoubtedly believes that these visuals give their hook-laden rants and chants the theatrical sprucing up that keeps fans alert. It's certainly more entertaining than idle chatter. The band has also stated numerous times that their message is useless if no one likes the music. So they cover the bases by playing punk, pop and electronica on an impressive array of instruments: guitar, bass, keyboards, percussion, tambourines, sample machines, as well as mallets on metal and giant cymbals -- plus some lovely a cappella numbers. Think of it as performance art meets highbrow punk with a snappy chorus.

It was all just a matter of time before they played the big one. Smartly, Chumbawamba paced themselves, playing mostly new songs ("Amnesia," "The Good Ship Lifestyle," "Drip, Drip, Drip," and so on) interspersed between popular old ones ("Timebomb" being a notable favorite). When the first few notes of "Tubthumping" played, electricity raced through the audience, and every mother, father, son, daughter and grandma (and I saw several) danced along and mouthed the words: "I get knocked down/But I get up again/You're never going to keep me down." It was heartwarming and everyone seemed unified for this one moment, even if the politics of the band were probably lost on the crowd.

As some fans dribbled out of the club (after all, Chumbawamba had played *the* song and left the stage), others stayed and chanted for the band's return. When the band re-emerged, lead singer Dunstan Bruce hoarsely explained that his voice was "totally f---ed." The audience responded by singing for him. Ploy or natural predicament, it worked; the crowd's chanting was custom-made for belting out Chumbawamba lyrics. The band then played five encore songs, dancing around issues of "justice," "Mumia Abu-Jamal" and "turning rebellion into money."

That last one's become a real issue only recently as their political ditties have now sold more than 2.5 million copies. Hell, you probably heard "Tubthumping" in film trailers for Senseless and Home Alone 3, episodes of Beverly Hills 90210 and Veronica's Closet, on Late Show with David Letterman and Politically Incorrect, or during the Winter Games and Fox Sports. Many people now feel they can't avoid the damn song. The band thinks it's great: less air-time for crappy artists. And to its credit, they avoid promotional arrangements with companies like Nike, donating their proceeds instead to political action groups, many of whom had stands at the show. Indeed, for a group that espouses anarchy, Chumbawamba seemed miraculously organized and focused. Their success may not have truly whetted Americans' taste for political music, but it sure could.