Pop Music Review
By John Layman

The members of Bad Religion certainly don't look punk rock. Devoid of Mohawks or any visible tattoos or body piercings, the quintet appear surprisingly normal. Clad simply in T-shirts and jeans, there is nothing that distinguishes these unpretentious 30-somethings from everyday Joes on the street. Once on stage, though, Bad Religion clears up any misconceptions about what punk rock is or should be. As the band proved Tuesday night at SOMA Live, punk rock has nothing to do with a certain look or a particular age. It's all attitude. And Bad Religion had plenty of it during the first night of two sold-out shows at SOMA.
The band, introduced as "the godfathers of punk," was as outspoken as it's been throughout its 15 years and nine albums. Bad Religion opened with the title track from its latest album, "The Gray Race," with its refusal to see things as either black or white. It continued with new material from that record and its previous album, "Stranger Than Fiction" (the band's 1994 commercial breakthrough and its major-label debut). By the fourth song, a hammering version of "21st Century (Digital Boy)," the band had built up tremendous heat, both figuratively and literally. The literal heat was almost overpowering, even at the back of the room, a result of the mass of bodies, cramming, slamming and body surfing. Vocalist Greg Graffin threw water into the audience between songs, which was perhaps the best reason to try and struggle to the front. Graffin was a powerful presence, between and during songs. And while the band — bass guitarist Jay Bently, drummer Bobby Schayer and guitarists Brian Baker and Greg Hetson — had tight, terrific synergy, it was Graffin who commanded the attention. Articulate and intelligent, Graffin, who holds a masters in geology and is persuiing a Ph.D. in biology, is an idea man who presents music that is not so much about rebellion as it is about free thought.
The band soon moved into older material, songs that may have been around longer than some of the members of the audience at this all-ages show, then moved forward to songs from 1992's "Generator" and 1993's "Recipe for Hate." Then it was on to more new stuff, as they played "Punk Rock Song" and "Come Join Us." "We've got 130 songs," Graffin said, "what do you say we play 'em all?" They didn't, of course, but it felt as if they might, as the band approached its 25th song, then its 30th, finally stopping at 32. "I bet a lot of you had no idea what you were in for," Graffin said. There was no encore, but none seemed necessary. It was well after midnight when the hour-and-a-half set ended, and you got the sense that if Bad Religion were allowed to go on into the wee hours of the morning, it would have.

Stealing some of Bad Religion's thunder (and it had plenty to spare) was San Diego's own Unwritten Law, whose overpowering punker tunes often mirrored Bad Religion's, particularly the harmonic howls. This may be as much a result of osmosis as it is influence, as the band has been touring with Bad Religion and had its latest release, Unwritten Law's major-label debut "Oz Factor," produced by Religion's Graffin. Still, Law managed to infuse some fresh energy and vitality into a familiar sound, and compelled the audience into multiple mosh pits. The most original sound of the evening came from the other opening band, Dance Hall Crashers, with a dizzy, spastic mix of punk-pop and ska led by a duo of dueling female vocalists.