Politicians pleased as punk

``It's kind of weird," said Geoff Forrest of Somerville, beer glass in hand, as he took in the unlikely scene being played out at the 21st Amendment, a pub on Beacon Hill. Before him stood two state senators, three state representatives (including his wife, Denise Provost ), and a city councilor.

``I don't think of politicians as being into punk rock," Forrest said, ``but there you go."

And there they were, Irish punk rock legends Stiff Little Fingers, fresh from a VIP tour of the State House, looking pleased -- if slightly bewildered -- as they drank with their political admirers, who showered them with little tokens of their admiration: pens from the Kennedy Library, courtesy of state Representative Kevin Honan of Brighton, and lapel pins from City Hall, delivered by City Councilor Rob Consalvo.

It turns out that the band, which formed in Belfast in 1977, has plenty of fans in high places.

``When you listen to the lyrics of Stiff Little Fingers," Honan said, ``you see that they're a band crying out for peace and justice in Ireland, and in the world." Honan, who first saw the group perform in the early '80s, led an entourage of more than two dozen politicians, staffers, and friends to the band's show later that evening at Axis on Lansdowne Street.

``They're a hard-driving band," he said, ``and at the same time, they've got this unbelievably powerful political message."

This appreciation of the band's punk-and-politics mix appears particularly strong in Boston.

``It doesn't happen everywhere we go," said drummer Steve Grantley . ``It's just remarkable that it means so much for so many people."

Equally surprised was singer and guitarist Jake Burns, who said that the band never set out to be political.

``Coming from Northern Ireland, obviously, to reflect your surroundings, by its very nature, the songs became political," Burns said. ``We're not saying one side's right or another side's wrong, but there's got to be another way of achieving this rather than killing people. I still can't sit down and write an `I love her, she loves me, and life is wonderful' song."

Also eagerly awaiting the show was state Representative James Eldridge of Acton (``I'm supposed to be somewhere tonight in my district, but I've got to take a break once in a while."); South Shore state Senator Robert Hedlund , the lone Republican in the delegation and a self-described ``headbanger"; and Brian Golden , a former state representative who first saw the band with Honan in the early '80s.

A 14-year Army veteran, Golden said he doesn't agree with the band's negative take on the military, but that he understands their frame of reference and is with them on the big picture. ``It's fundamentally about hope, and I connect with that across the board."

He needn't have worried that the show would be overly political: Opening with blistering renditions of early favorites like ``Tin Soldiers," ``Roots, Radicals, Rockers and Reggae," and ``Nobody's Hero," the gathering was a celebration, not a protest, with fans from their late teens to their late 40s joyfully mixing it up on the dance floor. Honan, Hedlund, and others were right in the thick of it from the beginning, pumping their fists in the air, singing along with the lyrics, and getting bumped and jostled by other fans.

``The mosh pit was very active," said a satisfied Honan, who described the interaction as civil, respectful, and free of flying elbows and the like. ``We meet our constituents at neighborhood meetings and at the shopping mall, but we also meet our constituents in the mosh pit."

Unseemly behavior for a politician? Not at all, said one member of the entourage.

``Kevin represents a district in which this is a significant dynamic, and if you're reclused and distanced from it, then you're not being responsive to your constituents," said architect Joe Mulligan , a Brighton native and a veteran of many rock shows with Kevin Honan and Honan's late brother, Brian, a Boston city councilor who died in 2002. ``At the end of the day, this is the environment in which we were raised," Mulligan said. ``It doesn't mean you discard it and you cast it away."