6 minute read
Band of Brethren
Band of Brethren
HARDCORE HISTORIANS MISSOURI EXECUTIVE ORDER 44
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By Nathaniel Kennon Perkins
Dressed in the iconic dark slacks and white shirts of door-to-door evangelists, the “bike-helmet hardcore” band Missouri Executive Order 44 is taking a new look at Missouri’s history and identity.
The group’s namesake, as well as the inspiration for their lyrics, comes from a law passed 185 years ago. In 1838, Missouri Governor Lilburn Boggs issued Missouri Executive Order 44, more commonly known as the “Mormon Extermination Order.”
He stated, “The Mormons must be treated as enemies and must be exterminated or driven from the State if necessary for the public peace—their outrages are beyond all description.”
Now, MEO 44, who played their first show in December 2022 and has since gained a devoted following in the local hardcore punk scene, is out to avenge the crimes of the past.
Boggs’s Extermination Order came as the result of escalating tensions between members of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints (LDS), commonly known as Mormons, and their non-Mormon neighbors in Western Missouri. Hoping to create a religious utopia, Mormon prophet Joseph Smith led believers to Jackson County, MO, in 1831. Soon, religious differences, economic worries, and opposing political views led to a rise in anti-Mormon sentiment. A series of conflicts and mob attacks forced the Church’s temporary relocation to Clay County. When troubles followed, Caldwell County was created in 1836, specifically designated for Mormon settlement. It was there, as well as in neighboring Daviess County, that surging contention resulted in a skirmish called the Battle of Crooked Creek, fought between LDS forces and the Missouri Militia. This violence drew the ire of Governor Boggs, who subsequently issued the Order. A few days later, an unauthorized militia rode into Haun’s Mill in eastern Caldwell County and massacred 17 unarmed men and boys. Smith, hoping to avoid further persecution, led his people out of Missouri. This chain of events is collectively known as the 1838 Mormon War.
For MEO 44, this war is still raging.
“We got mad beef,” says Elos Olsen, guitarist, backup vocalist, and sampler.
Dressed in the standard-issue missionary uniform, the band performs a militant pro-Mormon stance. In the cover photo of their recently released EP, Seventeen Dead in Caldwell County, the members can be seen brandishing firearms.
With song titles such as “Fuckin’ Boggs” and “Crooked River,” they don’t allow listeners to forget the past. The title of the lead-in track, “138 Years,” refers to how the unconstitutional Extermination Order technically stayed on the books until Missouri Governor Kit Bond rescinded it on June 25, 1976.
But despite the aesthetic they embrace, the members of MEO 44 don’t take themselves too seriously. They are able to poke good-natured fun at some other controversial aspects of LDS history. In “Bonnie Lonnie Lauralie,” they acknowledge the practice of plural marriage, or polygamy— which was an important aspect in early chapters of the Church’s biography—when they sing: “My three wives will watch you die/Six long braids and covered thighs/Oh, sister wives/Bonnie, Lonnie, Lauralie.”
They never break character, but MEO 44’s Mormon themes and appearance are more than just a schtick. Rather, the performance is a medium through which the group is able to share deeply held principles—beliefs that extend far beyond the boundaries of LDS church history and doctrine.
“Missouri Executive Order 44 is a band whose wish is to shed light on how long the Missouri government has been alienating the rights of citizens it does not deem ‘acceptable,’” says Olsen. “For far too long, the state of Missouri has enforced racist, bigoted, and prejudiced policies against those that don’t fit among its status quo, a practice that continues heavily to this day. That history is something we can use to connect with people on a larger, secular scale.”
Lead vocalist Jarom Johnson clarifies that the band members aren’t necessarily vying to position themselves within the groups or identities that suffer present-day injustices. Instead, their music is an allegory that serves to bring such issues to the forefront.
“We’re carrying a banner that is staunchly anti-tyranny,” he says.
Anti-authoritarian sentiment enjoys a long history in the many branches of punk music and culture. And, despite their penchant for quoting scripture and sharing the good word, MEO 44 doesn’t echo the dulcet tones of the Mormon Tabernacle Choir. Rather, the classic sounds of American screamo, powerviolence, and grind make up the firm foundation upon which they have built their musical temple. They cite bands such as Saetia, The Locust, and Jenny Piccolo as primary influences.
But coming into the world of heavy music, especially given the members’ alleged religious upbringings, was a road of trials and tribulations.
“I remember being punished for listening to an Ozzy Osbourne CD as a child,” says Olsen. “You know, claiming it was Satanic music, but I think that kind of pushed me to dive deeper into that realm. And there’s so much you can take in from the heavier side of music.”
Now, channeling their energy and anger, MEO 44’s songs are screamed prayers to the holy trinity of punk: short, fast, and loud. Only one song from the six-track EP clocks in at over two minutes. At 27 seconds, “Crooked River” is the shortest, though not by much.
In “Root Beer,” the band pays homage to hardcore music’s association with straight-edge, a subculture that emerged in the early 1980s and whose adherents proudly defend their choice to refrain from partaking in alcohol, tobacco, or recreational drugs: “My body is a temple/same as where I pray/when I ask for coffee/take my life away.”
Of course, the lyrics are also a playful reference to “The Word of Wisdom,” a section of LDS scripture outlining the health code for church members, specifically prohibiting tea and coffee, which the text refers to as “hot drinks.”
In June, MEO 44 leaves for a short tour. They call hitting the road “serving a mission.”
“At the end of the day, we know in our heart of hearts that Joseph Smith would come to one of our shows and would enjoy himself,” Johnson says.
