Considering that this band got its start in the ’90s street-punk scene, that development is a weirdly inspiring one it’s not like the Pist or Violent Society or the Swingin’ Utters or Aus-Rotten are now part of the cultural bedrock in their local communities.

They’re good for at least one performance at a big game in Boston every year, and locally, they’re a big enough draw to headline the TD Garden, even if they’re strictly House Of Blues status in the rest of the world. There are countless stories of the members of the band heading into hospital rooms, instruments in latex-gloved hand, to play private sets for ailing fans, and they’re now the sort of band that debuts a new song by sending its members onto the NHL Network to discuss the Bruins’ season. Instead, they’re big advocates of local sports franchises and local charities. They may sing more about fighting than any other band that has ascended to their status, but there’s nothing threatening about them. They’re just there, and if you live in or around Boston, they’re a sort of ambient part of your life. After 20 years and nine albums, they are, to my understanding, something like the local weatherman who’s been on TV every night at seven for the past 30 years.

Very few punk rock bands get to become civic fixtures in their hometowns, but that’s what the Dropkick Murphys are in Boston.

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