Superchunk took the stage at Philly’s Ardmore Music Hall on Wednesday, September 10th just hours after the controversial right-wing influencer Charlie Kirk was shot and killed on a Utah college campus. As commentators online scrambled to sanitize Kirk’s legacy of division and hate, speculation grew over whether Superchunk—a band with a history of calling out far-right extremism—would mute their politics for the night. Not a chance, as their set list made it clear.
“Here’s a song from What a Time To Be Alive that’s just about where conservativism has gotten us in the U.S. – nowhere good,” frontman Mac McCaughan said from the stage. “It all started with Ronald ‘that fucking asshole’ Reagan.” The band then lurched into a ferocious version of “Reagan Youth.”
He also recalled a phone call he got from American Music Club’s Mark Eitzel when Reagan died in 2004; “I just wish he could die again,” Eitzel supposedly quipped. And from that moment on, it was clear Superchunk would not be kowtowed by those online looking to quiet any political dissent.
The band’s 20-song set was an impressive balance of music culled from their last three records as well as deep dives into their decades-long catalogue, including three songs off of their 1990 debut. Surprisingly, the handful of new songs they played from Songs In the Key of Yikes! – released less than a week before this show – received almost as much reaction from the crowd as those earlier anthems. The band tore through songs like “Bruised Lung” and the impossibly catchy “No Hope” with the same amount of confidence as they took to songs they have played hundreds of times before (like “Tie A Rope to the Bus”), and the audience still sang along just as loud.
Flanking McCaughan on Ardmore’s stage was band co-founder and rhythm guitarist Jim Wilbur, touring bassist Jason Narducy (who has also played alongside Bob Mould for the past 20 years), and Laura King on drums.
Their encore included a spirited cover of The Magnetic Field’s “I Don’t Want to Get Over You” as well as “Cast Iron” and “Hyper Enough”. But the song that got the biggest response from the crowd – an audience the band managed to keep hyped up throughout their full hour and a half-plus set – was “Slack Motherfucker,” a show staple for the past 35 years.
Three decades into their career, Superchunk have settled into a rare kind of reliability—album after album of great songs, no gimmicks, no musical trend-chasing. And while it may sound cliché, they’re a band best understood live, where their ability to move a room is undeniable. And true to the punk rock ethos learned through bands like The Clash, Superchunk are still immune to pressure from the right to simply stay quiet in the face of authoritarianism and the subtle slide into fascism.
