Archive for punk

Review: Alien Boys

Posted in Reviews with tags , , , , , , on June 7, 2019 by Magadh

Alien Boys, Night Danger (Desolate Records)

I’m going to just open up by saying that Vancouver B.C.’s Alien Boys have put out a punk rock record that is pretty close to flawless. If you don’t want to read any further, feel free to head over to their Bandcamp page and see if I’m right. But on the off chance that you need more convincing (from me) I will just say that on Night Danger they have found the sweet spot where rocking really fucking hard (which they do) meets smart, passionate politics (which they have). Honestly, I’m having a hard time thinking of something critical to say about them. Maybe it will come to me later.

First off, I love the name, not only because it is (I’m reasonably certain) a reference to the brilliant EP released by The Wipers in 1980, but also because Alien Boys is a great name for a band made up of five women. They put out a demo in 2016 called Self-Critical Theory. I can’t recall hearing it at the time, but it definitely had promise. It was pleasingly raw, chugging punk with melodies that lifted it above the run of releases in this vein. It was good, but it’s one of those things that looks better when you hear what came after.

Night Danger is in a whole other league. With two guitars the band absolutely thunders through nine cuts (plus the intro) of blazing, melody-tinged punk. There are a lot of reference points in the history of this genre that you could point to. Maybe Rabid Reaction-era Freeze (minus the stupid lyrics) crossed with early SNFU (no, not because they’re Canadian). Alternatively, they sound like The Gits with a second guitar and a lifetime supply of beer and steroids.

Alien Boys are unapologetically political and unflinchingly feminist. They have a kind of tonal similarity to War on Women in this respect, but with a slightly more goofball edge (I’m thinking here of the song “Bender” for which the video is fucking brilliant). Still, when they want to be serious they write songs that really strike home. One of the great failings of dudes (and here I do not exclude myself) is not hearing when women (especially those in the LGBTQ+ community) tell us that they don’t feel safe. “Whose Bodies?” is a great take on this:

When you go out to a nightclub, do you ever look around and wonder “is this safe?”
have you had to hit the ground?
does walking in the street with a loved one hand in hand make you do shoulder checks – because you feel demands from eyes that pry and ask you,
“why do you act this way?”
have you ever been cornered no chance to walk away
countless taken from us and more murdered every day
I’ll tell you something it takes strength to be out in this way
so we resist to this day

Night Danger is loaded with anthemic cuts that are passionately feminist and queer positive. It is, for this reason, not just a great record, but an important one as well. Writing great punk tunes is one thing. Using them as a vehicle for conveying messages that it is crucial that people hear is another. The ability to do both makes this one of the best punk records that I have ever heard.

After so many decades, one often finds oneself wondering if punk as a genre is played out. On the basis of this, you’d have to think it wasn’t. It retains its ability to deliver important messages. Punk always had an element (often a very strong element) of cis white guys mouthing political ideas that they didn’t really understand. But, at its best, it also created (and creates) spaces in which people marginalized people could talk about their lives and their experiences at the tops of their lungs. Sometimes you have to shout at the world because the world doesn’t want to listen. Night Danger is a great example of that.

Review: Martyrdöd

Posted in Reviews with tags , , , , , , , , , on June 1, 2019 by Magadh

Martyrdöd, Hexhammeren (Southern fuckin’ Lord)

I wrote somewhere, maybe here, that I always get kind of nervous when I hear that Martyrdöd are about to release a record. I can still remember when I first heard their classic In Extremis (2005), a record which rocked me as hard as anything crust record ever had. Ever since then I’ve been sort of waiting for them to drop off in quality. Sekt, released four years later, was good, but kind of didn’t live up to the earlier release. Paranoia was better but suffered from a bit of indistinctness that often happens to band that is tuned way down. Still, “Tragisk Zeitgeist” was a cut whose rage and power would not have been out of place on In Extremis. Eldop was great. List was better, especially the video for “Harmageddon,” with its footage of heroic women YPG fighters. Long story short, the bar for this band, at least in my estimation, could hardly be higher.

Hexhammeren opens with the title cut, a chugging, heal-damped jackhammer that gallops headlong into the darkness. The slightly more metallic picking style gives the music a different texture, swirling darkly underneath Martyrdöd’s signature melodic overlays. The second track, “Rännilar” (which I think means “rivulets” or something like that) gets back to the more mainline version of the band’s sound. But it is a pummelling track nonetheless, featuring yet another spiraling melodic line.

Since In Extremis, Martyrdöd have made their stock in trade the expression of the anger and sorrow of the world. That record was a barely contained explosion of rage and pain that seemed at all points ready to break the bounds of the recorded medium and to become manifest in the world, anguished and self-aware. Over successive releases, they have polished and refined their sound, but have never lost the edge of furious urgency of their early discs.

Something they’ve added to their repertoire since the release of List three years ago has been video accompaniment. The video for “Harmageddon” mentioned above was an excellent opening shot, juxtaposing footage of the band playing with clips of female YPG fighters doing the business against ISIS. This was particularly effective, not only demonstrating an interest in, and commitment to, actual struggles for actual justice, but also emphasizing the role of women in the ongoing struggle. The band themselves looked on the edge of desperation. Jens Bäckelin attacks his drum kit like a guy administering a beatdown to someone he hates from the old neighborhood.

The new disc is accompanied by videos for “Helveteslarm” and “Pharmacepticon”. The former is good, and has a slightly lighter tone than some of their other material. The latter gets back on model, showing dark and unsettling images over a chunky, mid-tempo cut with a melancholic melody, the sum total of which is quite unsettling.

The material on Hexhammeren constitutes a powerful reaffirmation of the validity of Martyrdöd’s approach. Songs like “Bait and Switch,” “Cashless Society,” and “Den Sista Striden” emerge like explosions of black flame, dripping with overdrive and raw emotion. Martyrdöd’s music is, in a sense, an aphotic apotheosis of crust as a genre, standing as a challenge to every other band to find new ways of fusing darkness and melody. Hexhammeren simply restates this challenge with the accustomed power and clarity.

Since their last record, they’ve had a bit of a lineup change, with Pontus Redig leaving and Tim Rosenqvist moving from bass to guitar. Filling his spot on bass is Daniel Ekeroth, formerly of Dellamorte and a bunch of other bands (and author of the definitive book on the early years of the Swedish death metal scene). So no worries there. If there’s anyone who knows how this music is supposed to sound, or how the bass fits into a band tuned down to somewhere around the key of C, it’s Ekeroth. If I hadn’t known this in advance, I wouldn’t have noticed the difference.

Maybe it’s something in the water. Or maybe they’re just all really depressed. For whatever reason, Sweden seems capable of producing a seemingly endless stream of devastating crust acts, and has been since the early 1980s. One can easily name a dozen such bands without thinking too hard, from Anti-Cimex and Crudes S.S., to Wolfpack and Skit System, and on to Myteri and Misantropic and myriad other groups churning out music that reflects the dark structures of life. Among these, Martyrdöd leads the charge, consistently delivering dark and punishing evidence of the world’s decay.

The world is going down the shitter. That is not news. But it is at least some comfort to be found in the capacity of bands like this to translate the sorrows of the world into forceful mixtures of light and darkness that have the power to block out the anguish of the lived crisis, at least for a moment.  

John from the Eastside

Review: Dödsrit

Posted in Reviews with tags , , , , , , on December 30, 2017 by Magadh

Dödsrit S/T Alerta Antifascista Records/Bloodsoaked Records

 

dodsrit1Moments of absolute perfection are rare. This is probably a good thing since they are indubitably subject to a sort of quantity theory. If we didn’t have things to gripe about, even in the context of things we like, the world would be a duller place. And if our hopes and desires were always being optimally satisfied, life would likewise be impoverished. Maybe the philosophers of dissatisfaction are correct when they say that the payoff that we get never rises to the intensity of the expectation. But there are moments when the joy of realization’s asymptotic approach to the ideal gives one something approximating the joy of real fulfillment.

 

My most recent brush with this region of experience was the first time I spun up Dödsrit’s self-titled mini-LP, available via Bandcamp from Germany’s Alerta Antifascista Records (and in Sweden by Bloodsoaked Records). This disc literally has it all. From the cover photo featuring hoary northern woods bathed in fog, to the skillful melding of crust and black metal styles contained within, Dödsrit is constantly demanding an answer to the question: How could this be done better? And, frankly, most of the time I am left concluding that it couldn’t.

 

The driving force behind this epic is former Totem Skin guitarist Christoffer Öster, already of worthy renown. Those who follow the crust/h.c. scene will know without needing to be told of the complex brilliance of that band. Over the course of two full albums and a number of other releases, Totem Skin bludgeoned listeners with an effective mix of dark styles: from crust, to black metal, to screamo, to passages that verged on the more esoteric realms of emo. Their collective talent for arrangement and composition left in its wake a collection of ripping h.c. cuts the quality of which holds up with the passage of time.

 

In Dödsrit, we have the quintessence of this stylistic mix. The songs are slimmed down (relatively), sacrificing complexity for epic power. Bombastic melodies spiral over cascading blast beats, before spilling vertiginously over broad expanses of battering double bass aggression. This release comprises only four songs, but they are longish, ranging from five to eleven minutes in duration. The question one always has to ask when h.c. and crust bands start crossing the 3 minute barrier with regularity is: Do these cuts really contain enough ideas to justify added length? I will say that, after repeated listening, Dödsrit always leaves me wanting more.

 

It is only a few years since blackened crust really started to be a thing. It’s not totally surprising that those on the darker end of the crust scene would want to try to integrate some of the power and atmosphere that lower fi black metal has often managed to achieve. But all too often this amounts to the excuse for the multiplication of blast beats without concomitant melodic or atmospheric overlays and it ends up just sounding lame. Dödsrit, on the other hand, are the real deal. The integration of crust and black metal elements is absolutely seamless, carrying the listening along on a flood tide of sonic aggression and dark ambiance.

 

Such is the perfection of this record that it’s a little difficult to know where Dödsrit could go from here. At least in my opinion, and you’re welcome to think what you want about what I have to say, they’ve set the bar incredibly high. But that’s a question for the future. For now, it is enough to ride along with them into battle among lonely graves and northern fogs.

–John from the East Side

Punk as Absence

Posted in Articles with tags , , , , on October 22, 2016 by Magadh

blackflagI discovered punk rock when I was in eighth grade (which would have been in 1982 or so). My buddy Chris introduced me to it. In seventh grade he’d turned me on to Iron Maiden. At that point I thought Number of the Beast was the most transgressive thing ever recorded (and so I was fascinated by it). One day, toward the end of eighth grade, Chris said to me, “Iron Maiden is ok, I guess, but Black Flag is way better.” Our mutual friend Brian (who we all called Chauncy for reasons I never quite understood) hooked me up with a tape that had Damaged on one side and the Dead Kennedys’ Fresh Fruit for Rotting Vegetables on the other. I was hooked.

dksThe music spoke to me in a way that metal never did. I always thought of metal as kind of thuggish, and that was never me. Strangely, punk didn’t seem that way to me at all. I got hassled at school all the time and I was pretty much a social pariah. Punk gave those experiences a meaningful narrative. The jocks and the rednecks and the cool kids and cute girls who made my life unpleasant were all scum. I and the few friends I had who’d tumbled on to this thing were privy to a sort of secret knowledge, of bands and scenes and signs and movements and languages. There’s a line from an old song by the German punk band Die Ärzte that goes something like, “Wir haben erlebt was andere nicht mal ahnen [We experienced what others don’t suspect].” That summed it up quite nicely, although I only heard it later.

It was only later too, once I’d learned a bit of the history of the cultural formation with which I had aligned myself, that I started to wonder what it was really all about (i.e. was it about what I thought it was about or something different). It was in the course of this that I worked out that talking about “the” punk scene was really a misnomer. The punk scene, like the underground scene more generally (and probably most cultural formations) is not a cohesive organization but a set of overlapping micro- and macro-scenes. There is no central unifying text or positive content, only a set of more or less overlapping networks.

Once I realized this, the culture of punk seemed to me to involve a paradox. People spent a lot of time and spilled a lot of ink in the 1980s trying to figure out what punk was and (what often seemed more important) what and who it wasn’t. If you read the letters section of Maximum Rock n Roll in those days you would see at least one or two, and more often significantly more, assertions that someone was a poser, or that some band was bunch of posers, etc. Even when I was 14 that stuff seemed like a stupid, sterile thing to argue about. In any case, this grated harshly against the ideals of freedom and the varieties of aesthetic expression that were fundamental to my attraction to punk at the most general level. On the one hand, authenticity was key. On the other, there was no such thing.

lydonI remember in this context reading an interview with John Lydon in which he asserted that anyone calling themselves punk at that point was being fundamentally inauthentic. There was a certain sense in which he had a point. From his perspective, he and a few dozen people in and around London in the mid-1970s had created a thing, which had then died (on an electrically tense night in the Cow Palace in San Francisco if not before), and they had moved on. Of course, it wasn’t quite that simple.

The London punk scene of the mid- to late 1970s was influenced by the sort of glam/art rock scene in New York, radiating outward from the New York Dolls, which was itself heavily influenced by bands like the MC5 and the Stooges. The more you dig into it, the more you find that each of these scenes was connected (sometimes by personnel, sometimes by style) to bands and scenes that had gone before. In Lipstick Traces, Greil Marcus makes the point quite effectively (pace Stewart Home’s rather nasty critique in Cranked Up Really High) that there is a line of cultural connection that can be drawn connecting Dadaism, Lettrism, Situationism, and a bunch of even less well known movements for the revolutionization of art and civilization, with the various punk-related scenes of the 1970s.

yotIn the early 1980s, I and my friends took part in inscribing the hardcore punk scene into the culture of small town eastern Washington. By that point the denizens of the “original” scene of Lydon and his compatriots had mostly moved off to serious musical careers, straight suburban lives, or spiralling drug addiction (or some combination thereof). By then too, the original impetus had fragmented, leading to the formation of complexes of microscenes in Los Angeles, D.C., New York, San Francisco, Seattle, and dozens of other cities (and hundreds of small towns) in the U.S. and around the world.

7secsGiven this process of fragmentary diffusion, it is not surprising that the question of what it all meant seemed so crucial. But, of course, there was no there there, at least in the sense of a coherent cultural something binding it all together. Even within the subgroups there was immense variation. Looking at straight edge, just as a for instance, the scene that grew up in D.C. around Minor Threat was much different than that in New York around bands like Youth of Today and Gorilla Biscuits, and both were different than the scene in California (Stalag 13, Uniform Choice, and others), and from the one in Reno centering on 7 Seconds. [NB. If you’re reading this and thinking that different bands might be more representative do bear in mind that I’m just tossing this stuff off the top of my head. If you know better (or think you know better) feel free to write your own blog post.]

stalag13This didn’t stop people from arguing about it, often quite nastily. A lot of it was social. The scenes that existed were often projects or projections of groups of friends, mostly high school or college age. These sets are fractious at the best of times, so it’s not at all surprising that charges of apostasy of various kinds might be made, especially when there was the possibility of amplifying them by having them printed in MRR, or Flipside, or whatever. These social dynamics synergized, once again, with the fact that the culture being appropriated was diffuse and acephalus. And so the grousing and griping spun on and on without ever really bottoming out or discovering very much that was fundamental.

Ultimately, the work of defining what punk was and wasn’t was left unfinished because the moment of its realization was missed. Green Day came along, and grunge, and the powers of the recording industry once again became convinced that there was some coin to be made. What it all meant became a matter of supreme indifference to any but the most neurotic purists and zine writers. Just what was punk? “Let’s make lots of money, and worry about it later.” So it has continued, although renewed corporate interest has not, in fact, managed to kill off the residual fragments of the punk scenes of what you might call the “intercommercial” era (i.e. the period between the late 1970s and the mid 1990s during which records types didn’t care very much about underground music). And still the devotees of crust and other abiding punk forms know what they are doing and with whom they share common ground without having to have an overarching theory to explain it.

And so, perhaps, it has come to this: punk was (and is), at its heart, an absence. If punk ever meant anything, if it was ever worth anything, it was because it created a space in which identities to could be created and explored (mostly) outside the hegemony of the dominant cultural forms. This did not mean that these identities were created sui generis. Nor did it mean that coercion was entirely absent. Some of the identities that people created were racist, sexist, homophobic, or chauvinist, the persistent influence of these tendencies distorted and constrained the cultural space of the underground. But still the space endured, not unique and certainly imperfect, but still a place where kids who were weird, or gay, or feminist, or otherwise marginal could take a hand in making themselves rather than merely reproducing images of what they were supposed to be.

Review: War on Women

Posted in Reviews with tags , , on August 4, 2016 by Magadh

War on Women s/t Bridge 9 Records

wowI always like seeing women break into the rock and roll boys club. I’ve heard about as many songs about man pain as I can stand at this point. Truth to tell, the thing I always liked about the underground scene was the space that it set up for women to express themselves outside the framework of dude-centered culture. And thus I was so often disappointed when the same old dude-centric tropes seemed always to be reproduced, whatever the rhetoric of inclusion might have suggested.

It’s been my privilege to see a lot of women with powerful souls getting their rock on. I wish everyone could have seen Tam Simpson fronting Sacrilege in their heyday, inscribing the poetry of the apocalypse across their blistering metal swirl. That was brilliant, but it was one woman in a four piece, and if it’s not quite fair to say that that doesn’t count, still it doesn’t seem to quite get to the cultural place of bands like Bikini Kill or Sleater-Kinney in which women were the entire creative force.

Baltimore’s War on Women is a hybrid between these two conditions. Three out of the five members are women, including singer Shawna Potter, guitarist Nancy Hornburg, and bassist Suzanne Werner. But War on Women’s feminism is not so much a matter of having women at the skill positions (although that’s important too) but in their unabashed and unapologetic political stance. From their name, to the cover of their most recent eponymous release (which gets my vote for best of the decade), to their forthright discussions of topics like rape, abortion, and dude culture on the internet, this is a band whose values are front and center, and whose way of expressing them takes no prisoners.

It certainly doesn’t hurt that their message is delivered in a musical voice that would make you sit up and listen even if they didn’t have something important to say. There’s a lot of this disc that sounds like Swiz without the metallic overtones, or a slightly less melodic take on early Dag Nasty. But then there are also plenty of passages that are simple, fist-to-the-jaw punk, and the mixture makes for very interesting listening.

War on Women ticks all the boxes. They’re a punk band that actually has something to say, which is, frankly, all too rare (and not just these days). This is something that underground music (to say nothing of American culture generally) needs more of. War on Women demand to be taken on their own terms and to have their commitments heard and taken seriously. And they rock, which doesn’t hurt at all. They’re on tour in Europe now, and if you live over there, go see them. Yes, you.

For more on War on Women

https://bitchmedia.org/post/meet-baltimore-feminist-hardcore-band-war-on-women

https://waronwomen.bandcamp.com/music

https://www.reverbnation.com/waronwomen

http://www.bridge9.com/waronwomen

Straight Edge Playlist

Posted in Playlists with tags , , , , , on July 5, 2013 by Magadh

Few would term Mags and me as overly temperate. That said, we both have great love and respect for our straight edge brothers and sisters. This respect lead me to proposition walking musical encyclopedia and all around solid dude Rob Moran for 20 of the best straight edge songs of all time. His introduction and playlist are below.

Image

Here is the list of what I think are the best songs by various SxE bands. Now granted, I think about 5% of the people associated with these songs are probably still SxE, but who gives a shit…these are great fucking songs, they meant something to me then and they still do now. By no means is this any sort of definitive list, but rather a list of songs that stuck with me over the years.

Rob Moran

In no particular order:
  1. Inside OutNo Spiritual Surrender
  2. Minor Threat – Minor Threat
  3. Side by SideBackfire
  4. UndertowCutting Away
  5. Turning PointBroken
  6. 7 SecondsThis is the Angry
  7. Drift AgainDrag
  8. Uniform ChoiceNo Thanks
  9. JudgeFed Up
  10. Gorilla BiscuitsNew Direction
  11. SS DecontrolGet it Away
  12. SlapshotFire Walker
  13. UnityStraight on View
  14. Chain of StrengthJust How Much
  15. JudgeWarriors (Blitz Cover)
  16. Four Walls FallingHappy Face
  17. BrotherhoodThe Deal
  18. IntegrityHarder They Fall
  19. BaneCan We Start Again
  20. Dag NastyValues Here

Since Rob included Judge twice (not that we are complaining) and is such a modest chap this is my nominee for #20.

UnbrokenYou Won’t be Back

– Captain of Games

Nomads/Treacherouskin Split “Violent Fucking World”

Posted in Reviews with tags , , , , , on March 10, 2013 by Magadh

Nomads/Treacherouskin

Violent Fucking World

Melotov Records

The Nomads demo got a lot of play in the bunker and we’ve been more than a little curious to hear the 7″. We’re proud to report Violent Fucking World finds both bands at their best.

Nomads

Nomads offer up 4 tracks of blistering d-beat with a generous helping of power violence. By way of a reference I hear plenty of WolfbrigadeNails and Totalitär without the band veering into overt tribute territory. The opening track, “Swine Flu” tackles the topic of police oppression (something near and dear to Mike’s heart; check out Wartime Collective or the ACAB tattoo over his left eye) over a punishing d-beat onslaught and some righteous guitar work. “Viking Funeral” and “Thank God” are both heavily influenced by Dis-bands. “Bullshit Propaganda” is a ripper which conjurers up images of the best of Swedish crust. Nomads continue to impress and I hope to hear more from them in the future.

Treacherouskin are a more straight forward hardcore band. Think Sick of It AllNegative Approach,Mouthpiece and Champion with some Helmet, Prong and Pantera tossed in for good measure. “Father of Lies” is a punishing metal core anthem with some tasty breakdowns. “Oblitus” is the standout track from Treacherouskin, sludgey riffs give way to some Meantime era Helmet.

All and all this is a solid release. We’ll be listening to this one for some time.

-Captain of Games