Punk and folk singer songwriter Frank Turner joins me to talk about his spark Instrument, a documentary about seminal post-hardcore band Fugazi. What defines documentary filmmaking as a genre? How has Fugazi's approach to music making and marketing impacted the entire industry? How can artists create work in a way that stays true to their sociopolitical ideology? Frank and I dug into questions like these without taking ourselves or the subject matter too seriously.
Spark Parade: The jumping off point is always… Do you remember seeing this movie for the first time?
Frank Turner: Yes. I mean, I'm not going to be able to put an exact date on it or anything like that, but when I was in my late teens, I was in my first touring band who were called Kneejerk. There were three of us and we did a couple of DIY UK tours. And somewhere around that time, I'm pretty sure at like someone's house after a show or something like that. Someone had, I'm reasonably sure, like a VHS copy of Instrument and it got put on. And I was kind of at the beginning of an obsession with Fugazi at the time. It hadn't quite piqued. And arguably the film is one of the things that made it pique, but I was definitely interested to see it and pretty blown away by it.
SP: Yeah. I guess there's a few different lanes of inquiry here, but there's the filmmaking, there's the music and there's the band's kind of ethos, all of those things combined, making this film what it is. And I think it's really interesting that it's very obvious that this deviates from a traditional rock documentary structure, that this is not a typical version of what you would get there, but kind of this idea of using a fine art filmmaking template to create a rock documentary, not necessarily looking for a traditional narrative structure, having points that they want to touch on about the band, about themselves, about the way they interact with their fans, about their politics, about what life on the road is. But all of it in this loose… There is structure there, but it's very much taking little elements of what's gone on and not necessarily wanting to have a story behind it in a traditional beginning, middle end, trying to achieve some kind of narrative structure.
FT: Absolutely. I guess what I would say, though, is that the interesting thing, whilst it is, of course, a Jem Cohen film, it is not a film made by a third party about the band, really. It is a piece of art that is at least co-constructed by and with the band. And in that sense, it's almost like another Fugazi record, except it's a film as opposed to a documentary about them as a band. So in a way that is not in any way kind of disguised, they have a hand in the presentation of it. It is a statement made by the band rather than a statement made about the band. And of course, in some levels it helps to have some prior knowledge about who they are and what they're doing before you watch it. But I guess what I'm saying is the way that I regard it is different from watching a film that's made by a director and a documentary team about a band and sort of studying them as an object. They are the instigators of the thing. And in a way, once you understand that it has as much to say in the way that any of their records does and it's them saying it. And the fact it doesn't have normal structure is kind of the point almost in a way and I love the way that it kind of begins and it almost tempts you with this idea that it's going to tell you a story about who Fugazi are. And the back end of the film is pretty grueling in places and it's certainly I was talking about it with a friend of mine a couple of days ago and we both agreed it's kind of by the end of it, it's definitely a film for the fans, you know what I mean? It's not necessarily one for the casual observer. And my wife, who is not particularly enamored of… she doesn't dislike but she didn't grow up with punk rock. It's not really her thing. I remember us watching the film together reasonably early doors in our relationship and so by the end of it she was like, is this ever going to stop? Because both the music and the visuals kind of start kind of collapsing in on themselves a little towards the end of the film in a way that I find really interesting. But yeah, it's more a piece of art than a piece of documentary to me.
SP: Yeah. And that's what it reminds me of seeing installations in museums and galleries and being able to say I can sit down and engage with this as a casual viewer for three minutes and then say I've had my fill. Or if you're somebody who really loves the artist and is really engaged with it, you can sit for the full 2 hours and really let it wash over you. But yeah, I find that really interesting. It's obviously not meant to be a very commercial piece.
FT: Absolutely. There are messages there in parting about themselves and they are presenting their kind of ethical case in many places and on an individual level, that's been one of the most resonant parts of it for me. I am kind of slightly joking when I say this, but not 100% that I've long thought that there is a common ground between punk rock and Catholicism in the sense that there is definitely such a thing as punk rock guilt. And there is definitely the case that whilst if you've ever been a punk, you might be an ex-punk but you're never a non-punk, it's always sort of hovering somewhere in your life, you know what I mean? And on that level, I've worked with major labels in my time and I've done many things that I'm sure that Ian MacKaye would disagree with. But there is always a little part of me that's slightly wondering how he would feel about my choices. Not I suspect that he would give a fuck. And I've actually come to know him a little over the last few years and he's a delightful and nonjudgmental man, but they make their case. And whilst I'm not going to sit here and claim that I, as an artist, have followed their own ethical directives to the letter, nevertheless, I feel like the driving ethos, the spirit of who they are and how they approach their art as a kind of community activity and a fiercely independent activity. And it's a type of art that in contrast to the kind of Britpop bands that all my friends were into when I was younger, sort of had values and it had ideas to impart in a way that Oasis didn't, you know what I mean? And all due respect to them. But as a teenager, being in Fugazi was a lot more meaningful, I felt, than being into Oasis. It taught me things about how to conduct myself, and I like to believe that they still govern a fair amount of my thinking about the world.
SP: Right. And another thing that I find interesting about this, and I think Ian MacKaye says something to this effect that it's this kind of push pull between being prescriptive, telling your fans and your audience what the meaning is, and also letting them decipher it for themselves and not wanting to make people think that every single second that they have planned out has to be interpreted in exactly the way that they want it to be. But there are elements in the film as well where there's very clear indications of their politics, of what is important to them. And then seeing those scenes with the kids kind of hanging out outside and just being like, “Fuck them, man, they're not going to tell me how to behave in the concert. If I want to dance, I'm going to fucking do it.” So, yeah, seeing that contrast…
FT: At the very least, those scenes, I feel like, demonstrate that they have a sense of humor about themselves, or at least a self awareness about who they are and what they're doing. And I distinctly remember because I'm lucky enough to have seen Fugazi once before they split. And there was a sort of controversy around their kind of stance on violent dancing among some people, because a lot of people who liked Fugazi, liked other kind of like heavy rock bands of the era, and they are a heavy rock band. I mean, they're a punk band, whatever you want to call them, but there's a complexity and a depth to everything that they did, which stands above other more mainstream heavy rock bands from that era. But also, I think, in contrast to so many other punk bands, I've firmly maintained that Fugazi are the most important punk band in history and the most punk band in history. And part of that is that there is so much art in what they did, you know what I mean? And I think the film demonstrates that. I can't think of another band, another punk band who would ever make a film like Instrument, do you know what I mean? It's just no one's going to fuck... It's not really within the catalog when you want to do that. And Interestingly for me, that includes Minor Threat. Now, Minor Threat were my first love of Ian MacKaye's output, and I still have a huge soft spot for their work. But in comparison to Fugazi, it's very brittle. It's a lot more kind of preachy in places. And dare I say, it's more kind of like male somehow. It's more kind of like macho. And there's something much more ambiguous and open to interpretation in Fugazi, there's a deliberate obliqueness that leaves, as you were saying, leaves space for the listener, or in the case of this film, the observer to draw their own conclusions. And hardcore in its original format, didn't have a huge amount of that kind of light and shade. You know what I mean? Much as I love it, but I mean, songs like Straight Edge aren't especially subtle, should we say? Whereas I think that there's a kind of… Even as a listener, when I first started getting into Fugazi, there's a kind of mystery to it, almost. You have to work out what they're talking about in a way that you don't with a Black Flag song.
SP: Right? Yeah. And lyrical and musical complexity. But I think also the reason that Fugazi as a band represents this kind of bridge between hardcore and alternative, grunge all of that kind of stuff is that I don't know that it's more accessible, but there is variation in the melodic structure. Hardcore can be a lot of things to a lot of people, but the sound is quite uniform. And also just thinking about that transition as it relates to what you were saying about or what we were saying about their rules of etiquette, about dancing in the concerts, that it was like, to my mind, a reaction to the crowds at hardcore shows when you see Minor Threat crowds, Black Flag crowds, where people are just kicking the shit out of each other, and it got to be that that was the point is like a place to release that aggression in addition to or instead of actually caring about the music.
FT: Absolutely. Yeah. I mean, there's a story about how like, and I can't quite off the top my head, remember if this included in the film or not. But there's a story that goes that when Ian MacKaye sort of post Minor Threat and even post Embrace was kind of searching for people to put a band together with. He had a conversation with Brendan Canty and he said, what sort of influencers are you interested in? He said, James Brown. And that's just the most fucking mind blowing thing for the singer from Minor Threat to say. And that is punk as fuck, you know what I mean? And they just blew open the palette of what a band from the punk scene was allowed to engage with creatively. And if you are of a certain kind of librarian mindset, you can sit there and point to how Fugazi essentially invented about eight different genres over the course of their recording career. But actually that's kind of, in my view, thinking about it the wrong way. What they did was they demonstrated that there were no limits to what sounds you could make within the context of punk rock. And there are funk influences on what they do, and there are kind of noise rock influences, on what they do, and there are kind of guitar pop influences on what they do as well. And it wasn't so much like identifying other sort of pigeonholes that were now acceptable, that was trying to destroy the concepts of pigeonholes full stop. Whilst also, I feel like, Fugazi are almost the moment where punk as an ethos truly takes off from any particular individual sound. You know what I mean? As much as I love it all prior to that, there is a much stronger kind of bond between a particular sonic aesthetic and that sort of values. And a lot of people have noted that, like, post punk as a phenomenon that existed in the UK, was interesting because it took the principles that punk rock sort of articulated about politics and actually applied to the music they were making as well. Because ultimately the first wave of British punk was pretty musically traditional in this way and Fugazi was kind of a similar thing. It was just kind of like, if we believe the following things about human behavior, we can also believe them about the way that we play our instruments. In Britain, you had this huge decade long sprawl of what constituted post punk. In America, you kind of had Fugazi, who did it pretty much single handedly. And I think that's fucking staggering.
SP: Yeah. And that point of letting other influences in or having a broader spectrum of influences talking about like reggae and stuff like that, and coming out of, again, the hardcore scene, which is not just predominantly male but very predominantly white, with the exception of Bad Brains, I can't think of anyone. So having that contrast, maybe even having fans who just have no connection to Black music whatsoever, being told that it's like, no, this music is a huge influence. It's a huge part of what makes us what we are is pretty remarkable. I think Additionally, throughout this whole film and throughout their career, that idea of… I think… I don't really like categorizing, what they do as DIY, I think that's a bit reductive. But saying wanting control over their output, over their image, over the way their music is distributed, over the way… access to their gigs, all those kinds of things. And that's very clear in this film as well.
FT: Yeah, absolutely. On a personal level, I've been somebody who's done a lot of touring in my life and there are sort of two moments of inspiration for that. And the first one was reading Get In the Van by Henry Rollins about the Black Flag years. And I was a young teenager when I read that book. And I did my first tour when I was 16 years old because that's what bands do. Me and my friends booked it from a payphone at our school and we did two and a half weeks around the UK. And played a fucking no one, I might add. But we got in the van and we went out and did shows because that's what punk bands do. And more to the point, we didn't wait for somebody else to do it for us. We didn't wait for permission to do it. It was like, this is what we do next. And how do we do that? Cool. There's a Book Your Own Life page in Fracture zine, we’ll fucking follow that. And that was the first thing. And then you watch a little later. And once I started doing them in the first few tours, you watch Instrument and first of all, Fugazi were pretty fucking commercially successful band in some ways, you know what I mean? Certainly when I saw them, they played to two and a half thousand people and they were doing three nights and they were all sold out. That's pretty fucking good. And they did it on their own terms. And that's hugely inspirational. To me, DIY... I think DIY is a term that gets much abused and DIY doesn't have to mean photocopied sleeves to me. And like bad quality. It means not waiting for permission and it means being proactive. And if no one else is doing it for you, then get the fuck on with it and all that kind of thing. The second thing I want to mention at this point that I feel very strongly still applies to what I do is that something Fugazi do that I find really inspirational. There's a way that bands can be political, which I personally find pretty trying, which is the sort of like, have you seen that film Get Him To The Greek with Russell Brand in it? Which obviously is a parody of it, but it's that kind of like that declamatory, sort of like I'm important in one field, therefore it will be important in all fields. And here is my opinion on humanity. And I'm basically the Pope and all this sort of shit, Bono syndrome or whatever you want to fucking call it. And I find that kind of grim. And like in the extremely minor way that I've been a public figure in my career, I've done my best to avoid that sort of rhetoric, should we say. But something that I've kind of figured out with the help of Instrument specifically and Fugazi more generally, is that the area over which I have direct control in a meaningful way is the atmosphere at my shows. So over the years, the groups that I have taken out as kind of charity representations on tour tend to be ones that are related to the business of live music. So, for example, Safe Gigs For Women Able To UK who do disabled access for shows, Stay Up Late who bring people with learning disabilities into a live music context, The Allied Coalition, which is about LGBTQ youth and access to shows and this kind of thing. One could make the argument that that's parochial. These are all organizations that deal with values within the context of the very small corner of culture that I occupy. But the point for me, like I say, the thing I like to think I learned from Fugazi is that in so doing, first of all, you're having humility about your reach in the world. But secondly, the whole fucking point of punk and hadcore to me was it was like this is almost a little kind of sandbox in which we can try out some ideas about how the world could be or should be or whatever, and about talking about individual human interactions and that kind of thing. And the extent of my job, but also of my responsibility in a way, is to kind of draw some lines around how people behave at my shows and then kind of say, and now it's up to you, you will now go and live your life. And it's not my business how somebody behaves in their job. Fuck me. But if somebody learns something about being considerate and being open to difference and that kind of thing in the context of a show, then maybe they will take that to their job and maybe they will go on from there. And that's an interesting and empowering idea to me. But there's something about in kind of being realistic about defining the barriers of the limits of your own kind of authority almost would be the word. You also are then able to focus your efforts in a useful way. So, of course, disabled access is an issue that is more important than just wheelchair ramps and gigs. Fuck me. I know this to be true, I'm not an idiot, but at the same time, if I can make that difference within that context, then hopefully it highlights the issue because everybody who comes to a gig also lives in the world outside of that and they can take that thought from there. That is the thing I do a lot and is the thing that I feel very strongly that I learned from Fugazi.
SP: Yeah, I mean, all of that also brings up another element of this to me, which is the time period that this is an artifact of a very specific moment in musical history, because it was right at the cusp of when the internet started being infused in every single aspect of all of our lives. And I think the political performance has become even more a part of public figures' idea of what they need to do and how they need to get respect. So the idea that this band was living their values and doing what they could with the people in front of them to articulate that when it wasn't about broadcasting it to the entire world because there wasn't a way to do that yet is even more remarkable to me.
FT: Absolutely. It's a really good point about the historical context of it. Because, I mean, the other thing is, of course, that Fugazi came up in the way that they did at a point in time when alternative guitar bands could sign tomise labels for a shitload of fucking money. And they never did. And hats off to them for that. But also one of their folks. And Ian remains this way in my encounters with him, he's very focused on DC. Because he's from DC and it's his town. And an awful lot of the activism Fugazi were involved in was centered on DC. And it remains the case that Discord Records puts out records by bands from DC. I can't be on Discord Records because I'm not from DC. And I had a kind of funny chat with Ian the last time I saw him. He was like, “I guess if you moved here and lived here for like a year. We could talk about it” kind of thing. And I think there's something kind of like admirable about that. And I think that there are moments when people kind of talk about the guys even a little sort of like preachy or overbearing or whatever. And I think to my mind that's slightly to misunderstand them. Because I think that in some ways, by their very existence, they throw down a gauntlet. But the gauntlet is kind of like, we're doing this in our town, and it's not our fucking job to do it in your town. You do it in your town. Like, fuck you. Do you know what I mean? It's not Fugazi’s job to make people raise money for causes in London. Do you know what I mean? Like, they'll come and play and that's fucking great. But ultimately they're a band from DC. I think there's something kind of cool about that.
SP: Yeah. And I don't really understand the perception that they're being preachy. I mean, saying things like, don't be homophobic, don't be racist. And then also saying to people in the crowd, don't fuck each other up. We want everybody to be here, be present, listen to the music, and not get hurt. It's all just kind of basic stuff to me.
FT: Absolutely. I think that one of the things about that, though, is that you and I having this conversation in a very different cultural context to 1993 or whatever. Do you know what I mean? And I think that particularly within the confines of the rock scene, which, as we've noted, was very male and very macho in many places and all the rest of it. But then also at the same time as the film highlights, they were pretty fucking funny with it. Me and my friends, there was a certain group of my friends to whom, to this day, if I'm trying to alert them to anything, I will just text them Ice Cream Eating Motherfucker as my opening gambit in a conversation. And there's a part of me that wants to… there was a… my old band, Million Dead, they had a song called Ice Cream Eating Motherfucker for a while. It changed its title over time. But they were funny motherfuckers. You know what I mean? They were entertaining with it. And there was something kind of that drew the sting out of it. And certainly as a performer, I've learned the best way to engage with the crowd is to be funny rather than angry. Jesus Christ, if you lose your temper, then you've lost the argument. But yeah, they were trailblazers for that. I mean, our culture has collectively moved in a direction that's more in line with where Fugazi were. Like, fucking hell, we're talking about 30 years ago now. Do you know what I mean? That's a long time. And they were ahead of that curve. Good Lord. There's something about, like, it wasn't just like, don't beat each other up because it's inconsiderate. It's also, as you've mentioned, it's like, because we're making art up here, we'd like you to sort of notice.
SP: Right.
FT: You know what I mean? It's funny. Like, I mean, I've played in heavier bands in my time, and there is a level on which seeing a heaving pit is quite satisfying. But you also slightly wonder if anyone's paying attention to what you're actually doing and have slaved away at in your rehearsal room, in your bedroom.
SP: Right. And also just stylistic stuff, like having those moments, seeing those moments where they're expressing their beliefs, where they're talking to the crowd, whatever. But from the perspective of… not quite the band's perspective, but from the stage most of the time. And having that angle, also just the stuff with chatting to fans in the parking lot, having that amazing interview with that girl on public access, which again, is like a very of its time thing. Like, it used to be that you could pay $200 or whatever and whatever city you live in, you could have a little hour long show on TV.
FT: Yes. But again, I mean, credit them for doing that interview because they wouldn't have done it. Actually, another thing that’s worth mentioning at this point is when I was about 16 or 17, I had a zine that did precisely one issue. And it was fucking awful. And if anybody finds a copy, I will be forced to kill them. But the one good thing in the zine was there was an interview with Guy from Fugazi in there. And what happened was… this is very early doors for the Internet, full stop. But I found an email address for Fugazi and thought, fuck it, and sent them a list of ten questions. And he replied at great length about a month later. And I printed it and I put it in my zine and it was cool as fuck. No idea who I was or whatever. And to this day, as an artist now myself, my email address is on my website, and I get 50 to 100 emails a day, and I fucking answer every single one of them. And I do interviews with people's zines and shit like that because they did that for me, you know what I mean? And I've done that hundreds, if not thousands of times. And maybe one of those kids is going to go on and be in a band later that goes somewhere, but they will do the same thing and the idea gets passed down or whatever. But that kind of accessibility was so startling to me as a kid. It's an idea that I try and keep alive to the extent that anyone cares about what I do. But if people want to get in touch, they can get in touch.
SP: Yeah. And I think that goes to everything we said about the band, that it's this idea of democratizing access to opportunity, saying everyone should have a fair shot at achieving their goals. And if you're going to stand in the way of somebody else achieving their goals when you're saying I'm going to do whatever I want to do and nobody's going to stand in my way, it's a contradiction.
FT: Absolutely. I mean, for me, one of the most striking things about punk rock, when I first encountered it in the flesh, as opposed to buying the first Clash album on CD when I was like 13 years old, when I went to my first ever punk show that I went to, the first band finished and got off the front of the stage, and the second band got out of the crowd and picked up the instruments and did their set. And there was something so physical about the fact that I've been standing next to the bass player and from band number two, that we blew my 15 year old mind to smithereens. And because prior to that I'd just seen some bigger, more corporate rock shows or whatever, and the idea that they weren't hiding in a dressing room or a limousine or whatever was like staggering to me. And Fugazi is such a great exemplar of that. And it's just the idea that music and art more broadly is a conversation within a community. It's funny, because I went through a phase when I was younger trying to sort of like in an anarchist way, trying to deconstruct, even though the idea of a raised piece of flooring for a stage I thought was bad because there was an implied authority imbalance there. It was kind of like highfalutin 16 year old theory shit. But ultimately there is a justification for someone to take a turn with the microphone, should we say? But what is demonstrated in Instrument and in Fugazi more broadly is that once the show is over, the floor levels are reset, you know what I mean? And people are back on the level with each other again. And I find, broadly speaking, ideologically speaking, art is more interesting to me when it is a conversation amongst equals than when it is a dictat from one class to another. You know what I mean? As much as I respect the guy's art, like the idea that David Bowie has a space alien and Space Odyssey and all that and Spiders From Mars, it's just kind of like, then why should I give a fuck? What does this person got to say to me? I don't want to have that conversation. I want to have a conversation with my community about what we're living through. And that's the thing that personally, I've gone on to find more in the folk scene as I've got older and that kind of thing. But again, it was a similar kind of ethos because it's people with guitars writing songs about what we did last weekend. And there's something punk as fuck about that. And discussing our issues and telling our stories in a sort of communal fashion. And there are aspects of the way that my career happens that don't live up to that every day, all the rest of it. But I hope and I like to believe that there is an element of that spirit that survives in my methodology.
SP: Yeah. And that point about the connection between punk and folk, I think is really apt. And it's, on the surface, these are diametrically opposed forms of music that sound completely different, appeal to different crowds. But that ethical core is similar. And also thinking about other artists who've done things in the same way as Fugazi, people like Ani DiFranco, who have their own label, release all their own music, have done everything on their own, got to where they are by just touring and touring and touring and touring and getting their message out that. Yeah, there's a lot of similarities there. Anyway…
FT: There we go. Fugazi and Ani DiFranco, together at last.
SP: Same, same. I don't know if that was the conclusion that I was hoping to draw, but we're going to leave it there anyway This has been great. Thank you so much for your time for making time for me.
FT: It's been fun. The bottom line is I can talk about Fugazi forever. And actually, I'm going to just finish this by slightly blowing my own trumpet for a second here, if I may, but also telling you an entertaining story. So a friend of mine who worked for the BFI, the British Film Institute, and a number of years ago, he did a thing where you invite people of some sort of note to come and pick a film and show the film and talk about the film. And I picked Fugazi’s Instrument and I gave a little talk before the film and somehow or other that a video of that little talk made its way to the members of Fugazi, and they saw it. So when I met Ian MacKaye in Ithaca, New York, maybe five years ago, he was like, “Oh, you were the guy who did that talk?” And I'm like, “Oh, my fucking god! It’s the pope!” or whatever. And it was lovely. We exchanged phone numbers and all this kind of shit. But I've then gone through this hilarious… It has definitely reached a point now where it's funny. Ian, to his credit, maintains a very strict policy about independent venues and this kind of thing. In my career, I have played in many independent venues. I've also played venues that are not independent or whatever. And he said to me, hey, man, I'd love to see you guys play. Next time we're in DC, hit me up. And the next time we're in DC, we were playing a larger venue. And he was like, I'd love to come, but it's not really for me. And I was like, I felt terrible internally, okay? And then the next time we went through DC, we were playing, but it was the night before Trump's inauguration. And he was like, I'm pretty fucking busy right now. And it was like, that's legit. And then the next time I went through, I was opening for Chris Stapleton at some massive fucking country show. And he was like, no, it's not really for me. The last time I went through, which was in October, just gone. We were playing in a fucking… I was opening to Counting Crows, which is a dream for me. They're one of my all time favorite bands, but we were playing some fucking casino. Ian was like, “I don't even know what that is”. And just like, whatever kind of thing. But then beautifully enough, he was like, “Do you just want to hang out?” And I was like, “Yeah, that'd be great.” So we went to the Dischord House, and I had this absolutely magical day of hanging out at Dischord House, and Ian showed me around and was a gracious host and all the rest of it. And it sort of reaffirmed my respect for the man. Not that it had ever dipped particularly, but he was just a lovely guy and he's very self aware and all the rest of it, but it was a beautiful thing. I mean, I had, you know, the famous Minor Threat photo on the steps of the Dischord house. Me and my touring crew recreated that with Ian in the photo. And that's a pretty fucking life moment tick for me. And I have that photo, and I will gaze at it happily for the rest of my days.
SP: Yeah. I still have hope that someday you'll be in this country and find yourself in a small venue.
FT: One of the problems with it is that I have played the 930 Club, like a billion times, but it was all in the run up to the moment I met Ian by which point I slightly got too big to play that venue kind of thing. Just in terms of the number of people who want to buy tickets, not in terms of my ego or anything, but I'm sure that my career fortunes will lead me back there again. This is the natural cycle of things. On that day, I will invite Ian to the show and hopefully he will enjoy what he sees.
SP: Yes. Hopefully you'll be there by choice rather than by force.
FT: It is a great thing.
SP: Yeah. All right. Thanks again. This has been fantastic.
FT: Thank you for your time, man. I'll see you again.
SP: All right. Bye bye.
FT: All the best. Bye.