If you’ve seen Instrument, the Jem Cohen–directed narrative that documents the history of post-hardcore group Fugazi, you may remember a segment from the film where band member Guy Picciotto lambastes hardcore music for becoming far too powerless and ritualized in the modern age. During his minute-long diatribe, Picciotto asserts that punk rock to him “is always about undercutting people’s expectations and throwing a spanner in the works,” calling the genre “a life thing” that must constantly be in a state of progression. The very next scene cuts to the band performing in a Philadelphia gymnasium sometime in 1988, where a scrawny Picciotto goes apeshit and hangs upside-down from a basketball rim with a microphone shoved down his throat. To witness this chaotic scene unfold firsthand must have been life changing, but to watch it on the small screen feels just as astounding, if not iconic.

Now to have an original copy of the band’s demo tape in one’s possession… that would be something. Produced by Dischord Records engineer Don Zientara after playing only 10 shows, the members of Fugazi entered Inner Ear Studios in January 1988 to find out what their songs sounded like when recorded to tape. After the studio sessions ended, the band would hand out their demo for free at shows as a means to share their music with fans. While the chances of actually scoring one of these prized cassette tapes—be it that one still exists—is most likely never going to happen, the official studio release of First Demo (Dischord Records) rejuvenates that sense of camaraderie for most of us sitting down to listen to this recording for the first time.

Considering this album is more or less a prequel of what was to come with Fugazi’s initial releases, one may approach First Demo with the utmost curiosity or extreme prejudice (or both). To put it into perspective, this is not Fugazi’s long-awaited return to grace after serving out an 11-year hiatus. This is a reissued demo tape, and with demo tapes comes the sneaking suspicion that the listening experience will be crap due to both the fidelity of the recording and the songs not being completely fleshed out. For a band that spent its entire career shunning capitalism and commercial appeal, it’s highly doubtful that Fugazi is finally dumping this record in our laps for fear of losing relevance in a musical landscape that has changed drastically since the quartet released their last studio effort, The Argument, in 2001.
As Ian MacKaye has commented during interviews, the desire to perform again is there, but conflicted due to a number of familial and work obligations amongst the band members. Perhaps there is no clear-cut answer for its release other than it being an opportunity for Fugazi to put this recording into the hands of anyone willing to listen to it and share it with their friends. It makes perfect sense when you think back to how their demo was distributed initially.

What is obvious upon a first listen to First Demo is that something feels amiss in the studio atmosphere. Not surprisingly, the first track on the record is “Waiting Room,” the guitar-gunning anthem that introduced the band to the world back in 1988 on their self-titled EP. The song feels sluggish in comparison to the final product with which most identify the band. Also absent from the fray is Joe Lally’s bass intro, a key element that shoulders the brunt of the tension that climaxes with the shouted chorus. And those awkward pauses? They’re there somewhat, although not firmly intact. But that’s not entirely it; something else is lacking. And then as you fill in the blanks, you realize that Picciotto must have gone AWOL because his presence in the song (and for most of the album) is seriously lacking. For the first year of Fugazi’s existence, Picciotto’s role in the group was limited to singer. With Ian MacKaye being the sole guitarist of the group at the time, as well as second lead singer, Picciotto became MacKaye’s hype man, claiming to have been inspired by Flavor Flav. This worked beautifully on the studio recordings, but not so much on the demo, as it lacks the sonic essences and abruptness that made your hair stand on end during “Waiting Room” and “Badmouth.”

Though Picciotto is present on First Demo, most of the material sounds like the work of a power trio with MacKaye handling singing duties. The only track where Picciotto is featured as lead singer is “Break-In,” a lung-crushing number that bridges the gap between the proto-emo of Rites of Spring and Fugazi. Elsewhere, the album offers a floor-stomping rendition of “Merchandise,” a song that would eventually appear on the band’s 1990 full-length debut, Repeater, and “In Defense of Humans,” the only song from the demo to have been previously released (it appeared on the 1989 compilation State of the Union). Another surprise is “Furniture,” which while performed at Fugazi’s first show, was shelved until 2001 when it appeared on the group’s final EP.

Of course, the greatest gift of First Demo is the ability to approach the material with a fresh pair of ears some 25 years after the original recordings were cut to tape. In a sense, it’s almost like rediscovering your all-time favorite band for the first time. Most of us probably remember the first time we heard “Waiting Room.” The same can be said about Minor Threat or any one of our most cherished punk bands. Considering that Fugazi was at the very beginning of a long road ahead when this demo was recorded, the first chapter of the band’s history feels a little more complete and gives plenty of opportunity to relive our youth.