For the past several years, the Sony
MDR-V150 headphone has been my headphone of choice. When I'm chained
to my desk at work and unable to enjoy my stereo at home they provide
a decent frequency range while I'm plugged into a 160GB iPod Classic.
I stick with the iPod because I don't
like to rent my music from streaming services due to sound quality
issues and the inability to pay the musicians for their work that
these services seem to have. I also go with iPod because I'm sure
that having some sort of turntable setup on my desk might be frowned
upon by the management. That and lugging a crate of vinyl around
with me every day doesn't seem very practical.
The V150s are lightweight and have a
long enough cord that I can reach across my work area and not drag
the iPod along with me. If the ear pads start to wear out or if the
cord goes bad, they only run around $20 to replace instead of the
$100 that some other headphones run. These headphones fit in rather
well with my utilitarian way of life so I always find myself going
back to them if a new set is needed.
I mention all of this because I had to
recently replace a pair of my beloved and very necessary headphones
because some pigfucker stole them off of my desk after the office had
cleared out at the end of the day. I alerted management of the theft
but beyond that not much else could be done. As much as I would have
liked to have gone full Batman on the perpetrator that would have
more than likely led to cameras being installed in the office. My thirst for vengeance would have to go unquenched. I'd much rather pony up $20 for
new headphones instead of having Big Brother watching me while I try
to stay awake and pretend to be busy.
The immediate issue at hand was how to
survive eight hours of my coworkers prattling on about the inane
details of their lives as if the sky was falling. I wasn't even
fifteen minutes into the day and had more than my fill of
conversation about reality shows and bad hair days. All I wanted to
do was listen to the newly discovered John Coltrane album, Both
Directions At Once, but my plans
were foiled by some asshole that will probably use my pilfered
headphones to listen to dub step or some other over-produced
disposable music. Those headphones had passed Eyehategod through
their speakers so I can only hope that they will melt to his head in
rebellion if he tries to put Kenny Chesney through them.
As
someone who medicates with music on a daily basis, I physically did
not know how to do my job without music playing. I sat there staring
at my computer trying to figure out how to put my day back together. Music also serves as a barrier between my coworkers and myself. It
prevents me from hearing them and it prevents me from yelling at them
because I heard them.
Luckily,
there was a sonic ally in the area that made an emergency run to the
store for a temporary remedy so I wouldn't end up on the evening news
after Hulking out because some nonsensical conversation was the
gentle breeze that pushed me over the edge.
The
V150s have been replaced and Both Directions At Once
was an amazing listen. All is not right with the world but at least
it's back to its usual level of suck.
On
Thursday, August 2nd, 2018, I was drawn by the almighty
powers of the Punk Rock to venture an hour south once again to 123
Pleasant St. in Morgantown, WV. This time it was to witness the rock
'n' roll greatness that is Against Me!
Even
though I had seen Against Me! on multiple occasions, to see a band
that can easily draw a thousand people in a space that can hold a few
hundred is something that should not be missed. The only downsides
were my poor planning which did not leave me any time to grab pre
show food and getting stuck in a battle of semantics with the door
guy over what is meant by “Will Call.”
Typesetter,
from Chicago, opened the proceedings. They had a very Jimmy Eat
World vibe to them which is a sound I had grown out of over ten years
ago. Typesetter did what they do rather well but it just wasn't for
me. The folks that showed up early seemed to be really into them.
Speedy
Ortiz was up next. I had been wanting to see this band for years now
and they did not disappoint. Speedy Ortiz reminds me of the more
laid back moments of Veruca Salt. It was nice to have a calming
groove to relax in for a few minutes before the mayhem of Against Me!
hit the stage.
Against
Me! came out swinging with a one-two punch of “Teenage Anarchist”
and “White Crosses” to set the tone for a long, sweaty night. The club had completely filled in and everyone was going off. Due to
a lack of room, the pit area didn't get too out of hand. It was only
able to form into a large mass that would move back and forth like a
Jello mold.
Because
of the weather conditions created in the club by the lights and the
crowd, there were multiple instrument trade offs just to keep things
dry. Every time the drummer's hand came down there would be a splash of
moisture sent into the air. There was a constant cloud of humidity
and steam hanging over the crowd during their twenty-five song set. I kept thinking of the stories I've read about early Ramones shows
where clubs were packed like sardine cans and those in attendance
were as hydrated as a potato chip by the end of the night.
With
the exception of “Haunting, Haunted, Haunts,” the set was filled
with older songs due to the return of Andrew Seward on bass. He had
departed in 2013 so he was not around for the writing and recording
of the latest album, Shape Shift With Me. The newer songs
were probably left off so he didn't feel as if he was in a cover
band.
When
they started into “Pints Of Guinness Make You Strong” I was
almost compelled to jump into the pit. That is an urge I had not
felt in over ten years. I suddenly remembered that I wasn't in my
twenties anymore and came to my senses.
The
encore started with an acoustic cover of “Going To Georgia” from
the Mountain Goats and then the devastating “Two Coffins.” That's the song that Laura Jane Grace always dedicates to parents. Of the four times that I've seen that song played live, I don't think
there was a time that “Two Coffins” hasn't made me roll a tear.
By the
time Against Me! called it a night, everyone had sweat through their
clothes and you could see moisture rolling down the walls. Our Punk
Rock forefathers would have been proud. At the beginning of the
night, I had no intentions of buying a t-shirt but grabbed one on the
way out so I wouldn't have to drive for an hour while stewing in my
own juices.
It was
recently announced that Laura Jane Grace will be putting out a record
with a new band called the Devouring Mothers. The record is due out
this fall on Bloodshot Records. It will be her first solo effort
since Heart Burns came out several years ago between New
Wave and White Crosses. If the title of the new album
doesn't include the words “Heart Burns II: Electric Boog-a-loo”
there is no justice in the world.
When
the album was announced, I spent way more time than I should have
trying to do the math on why it was not a new Against Me! album. It
had been two years since Shape Shift With Me was released and
the timing fits in with record/tour/record/tour cycle. Then Laura
posted online that the songs were heavily influenced by the
six-string samurai, Rowland S. Howard. That's when it clicked in my
head. These songs are their own separate animal from Against Me! and
deserve to be released under a different entity.
Rowland
S. Howard did time with Nick Cave in The Birthday Party, back in the
early 80s, before going off on his own. His final album, Pop
Crimes, was a thing of beauty and very haunting. The world lost
Howard back in 2009 due to multiple liver ailments.
Needless
to say, I'll be first in line when the Devouring Mothers' record
comes out. Hopefully there will be more tour dates that will bring
the band further east. So far the only dates are in the Midwest.
While
killing time on the internets the other day, I came to find out that
Japanese noise masters, Boris, had put three new releases out into
the world without my knowledge. The band is sneaky like that.
There
was a Live At Third Man Records session that was released in
late 2017. There were forty available on half pink/half blue to
those who attended the session in 2016. And another forty available
during the Japanese leg of the band's 25th anniversary
tour, in December 2017. The prices on the half and half vinyl would
involve the selling of vital organs so I settled for the standard
black vinyl which is widely available. The session was recorded
during the tour where Boris was playing their album Pink end
to end. Hearing those songs live was a life altering event so I'm
glad Third Man put this out for me to lean on when I need to.
The
second release was eternity. This was a live album recorded,
in Japan, on December 28th, 2017. It was only made
available as a digital download from Japanese music site Ototoy. It
was a massive download of nearly 2GB for the thirteen tracks. The
album clocks in at almost two hours. There are two pdf files
included with the download. One is a six page file that contains
credits and artwork for the album. The other is a 73 page photo book
of shots from the show. I have been letting this thing rip for the
majority of the evening while I write this. It is a massive piece of
sonic art. I am suddenly jonesing for a two or three LP deluxe vinyl
version of this thing. I'm imagining a hardbound coffee table book
type release with all of the photos printed on thick, glossy paper.
The
third release is a three song EP called Phenomenons Drive. This will be released on August 8th and it will be a
limited run of 600 on clear vinyl. The release is being handled by
Japanese label, Hello From The Gutter. It is also available through
another Japanese label called Inoxia. I'm not sure if these are new
tracks or if they were taken from previous sessions but I can't wait
to find out.
Boris
is a band that will make you jump through hoops to get a hold of
their music. To the extent that they've released records that were only available at
their merch table on tours.
They've
put out records that were only available in Japan. Some of them have
been soundscape type affairs so their North American label, Sargent
House, may have passed on them. Or the records may not have been
offered to North America.
Sometimes,
Boris will put out a record on a small label that can only afford to
put the vinyl out in small batches. The records disappear in the
blink of an eye only to reappear weeks later on Discogs and eBay at
nosebleed inducing prices. This is why I was shocked that I was able
to snag a copy of Phenomenons Drive while it was still up for
preorder. I usually miss out on these things and have to play catch
up at a later date.
Boris
has a history of putting out two very different sounding records on
the same day. Or releasing two different edits of the same records. Nothing seems to be off limits or set in stone with this band.
The
recent reissue of their album Pink was a glorious bit of
madness. The full length versions of the songs “Pseudo-Bread,”
“My Machine” and “Farewell” were only available on the vinyl
but not on the CD or the download that came with the vinyl. Due to
the extended length of those three songs, the track listing between
the vinyl and the CD of the new release was different. This was done
so all of the material could fit on four sides of vinyl. A different
track listing will lead to a different listening experience so it is
worthwhile to have both versions at the ready.
And all
of this is going on before you get into the weird cardboard box
packaging and four different colors that were pressed. There was
clear with pink splatter, pink with purple splatter and light
pink/dark pink swirl in addition to the standard black.
Then
there were the nine bonus tracks that were on the third LP. Normally, when a band puts out a reissue with a slew of bonus tracks,
you can very easily tell why they weren't included on the original
album. That is not the case with these songs. It looks like they
were cut as a matter of logistics and had to be sacrificed due to a
lack of time and space the first time around. Not a single one of
these tracks felt like filler that could be trimmed and put on a
shelf. They were all strong enough that the songs could have been
put out as their own individual album at some point.
In this
day of commodification, most bands would not even attempt to release
music in this manner for fear of over saturating the market. Boris
has a very “Hey, look what we did” approach to their music and
will put out records whenever they see fit. Which is why they spread
their releases over different labels and territories. It's a living
hell trying to keep up with but the sonic rewards are worth every bit
of the journey.
In
addition to all of this, there are also their collaborations with
artists such as Sunn O))) and Merzbow. This material is not for the
faint of heart casual listener. This is music that will definitely
alienate your friends and loved ones but at least the crazy vinyl
colors will look good while doing it.
Around
the release of their last album, Dear, there was word that
Boris might be calling it quits in the near future. I hope this is
not the case. The world certainly needs their brand of weirdness in
it. And if the world doesn't need that weirdness anymore, I know I
sure do.
Earlier this month, there was an
altercation at a bar in the borough of Avalon, which is northwest of
Pittsburgh. A man, who happened to be black, entered the
establishment to say hello to his friend who was an employee at the
bar. Unfortunately, there just happened to be a group of skinheads
at the bar when he walked in.
These dimwitted racists started with
the verbal abuse and then got physical with their abuse. The cowards
fled the scene when they were told the cops were being called but the
cops eventually caught up with them. They were charged with ethnic
intimidation, simple assault and conspiracy. You can read the full,
but short, story here.
Luckily, there were witnesses to this
incident. Hopefully, they'll come forward and their identities can
be protected to prevent any witness intimidation when the legal
proceedings get started in August. I'm sure these stable geniuses
aren't going to be very willing to face the consequences of their
very stupid actions.
These intellectual lightweights were
seen sporting white power tattoos and t-shirts but most news accounts
are describing them as “alleged” or “apparent” skinheads. Usually, when I see an individual in their Sunday best Steelers
jersey and the team logo tattooed somewhere on their person, it's
fair to suggest that they are a fan of a team that includes a dopey
looking rapist that chucks a ball down a field, without any
equivocation. So why are journalists hemming and hawing about
calling these racist pigs the racist pigs that they are? They were
wearing the uniform and the ink, loud and proud, so the general
public would know what they were and the hate that they represent.
This group of people is said to be
affiliated with a hate group called the “Keystone State Skinheads.” Way to go, fellow citizens of the Commonwealth. We've got our own
gang of skinheads. What the fuck is wrong with these idiots? They
squander, and fail to take advantage of, their white privilege so
they have to band together and take it out on someone because of the
color of their skin. This isn't out in the boonies of central PA
where dumbfuckery like this is bound to crop up. This is less than
thirty minutes from downtown Pittsburgh.
It is very unfortunate that these
racist dipshits have become emboldened over the past ten years. Their numbers grew during eight years of a black president. And now
that our country is being run by a bunch of pigs walking on their
hind legs, they feel like they can take this nonsense out in public
and ruin things for everyone else. Hopefully, if this country ever
comes back to its senses, we'll be able to cut the heads off of these
snakes before they crawl back into their sewers.
One of the last times I was at the
31st St Pub, I had a really weird encounter with the
skinheads that moved into the place. I understand that looking how I
look, with my pasty complexion and shaved head, it would have been
rather easy for these idiots to confuse me for one of their own.
I had heard the rumors that the
skinheads made the 31st St Pub a home but didn't take it
too seriously because I didn't think the owner would have put up with
them. Boy, was I wrong. I guess a beer sold was a beer sold in his
book.
I stood in my usual spot in the back
of the room so I could be as close to the exit as possible so I could
beat a hasty retreat as soon as the music was over. The skinheads
set up right next to me when they walked in. As one who does not
want to be associated with neo-fascist morons, I moved to a different
part of the club. Between songs, I noticed that they had moved near
me again so I went back to my spot near the door. This bizarre dance
went on a couple of times until, thankfully, the bands that I was
there to see were done so I hightailed it back into the night.
I'm glad I didn't have to have a
conversation with these lunkheads where I would have explained that I
only shave my head because I look like an idiot when my hair grows
out and I don't know or care what to do with it. And by shaving my
head, it's my way of having some level of control over how stupid I
look. I'm sure the discussion would have ended promptly with me getting
my ass kicked.
My only hope is that at some point
racism will become wrong again. It's getting harder and harder for
me to believe that it will actually happen. I used to think that old
way of thinking would eventually die out and we could all get further
down the road without the weight of active racism holding us back. But seeing the new wave of young hate groups popping up all over the
place I don't see that ever happening.
In the words of the wise prophet Jello Biafra: Nazi punks, fuck off!!!
On Sunday, July 15th, 2018,
I went to a rally in support of John Fetterman. Currently, he's the
mayor of Braddock, PA but he is out campaigning to become the next
Lieutenant Governor of Pennsylvania.
John's wife, Giselle, emceed the
event. Given the amount of work that she does in the community with
various non-profits, the commonwealth will be much better off with
Giselle in a more prominent role across the state.
Also speaking at the rally were Sara
Innamorato and Summer Lee. Both women ran against long time
incumbents of the state house of representatives and won. Both
candidates were tired of nothing ever changing so they changed it
themselves.
There was also some other guy there. I think his name was Bernie Sanders or something. It was great to
finally hear him speak in person since I missed all of the other
times he came through town on his run for president.
The theme for the afternoon was
Democratic Socialism and coming together to make government work for
everyone. Instead of the current model that seems to include
corporate plunder of public treasuries to the detriment of the many.
Mr. Fetterman kept his remarks short
because he was in a tough spot on the bill. After the fiery speeches
of Ms. Innamorato and Ms. Lee, there wasn't much left that needed to
be said and then he had to introduce Bernie Sanders. It was like
being on a bill with James Brown, The Ramones and Hendrix. There
wasn't much room for him to do his thing so he played it smart
and got out of the way.
Vermont Senator, Bernie Sanders, came
out and played what I begrudgingly refer to as his greatest hits. Using our tax dollars for healthcare and education instead of on the
military and prison industrial complexes. As well as equity in the
economic and justice systems.
I refer to them as Bernie's greatest
hits because I'm tired of hearing about them and I'm sure he's tired
of talking about those topics. These are all things that should have
been settled by now but aren't due to the fact that we are surrounded
by greedy pigfuckers. Greed and their desire for more of everything,
consequences be damned, is going to get us all killed.
For me, the personal highlight of the
afternoon and the reason I dragged my bundle of social anxieties off
of the couch and into a large crowd of people was to see Derek
Zanetti (a.k.a. The Homeless Gospel Choir) open the proceedings with
a handful of songs.
Derek has very quickly become one of
my favorite people in the land of Punk Rock. Armed solely with an
acoustic guitar, he's able to very succinctly get a message across
that, even though we may feel like outcasts, we are not alone. He
doesn't shy away from pointing out the impact that Punk Rock has had
on his life and I'm right there with him.
Trying to navigate my way through the
world became much easier once I knew there were a bunch of other
maladjusted people out there trying to find their way too. And they
made records about it!!! The discontent of Punk Rock became a
lighthouse for me and I was immediately drawn to it. The Ramones,
The Clash, anything with Ian Mackaye or Keith Morris. Those records
are my equivalent to magic Mormon underpants.
Seeing Derek play his protest songs in
front of an unexpecting audience that was waiting for political
speeches was a treat. I was worried about the response he would get
but the crowd seemed to be into what he was getting at. When he
started into his last song, “Normal,” it took every bit of
restraint that I had to not start pogoing in the folk pit. Chances
are I would have ended up crippling the two elderly women that were
standing next to me. That certainly would have put a damper on the
afternoon.
Derek is the closest thing to a Punk
Rock version of Mr. Rogers that I have ever encountered. He is all
about inclusion and kindness. The Punk Rock weirdos should be
uniting and holding each other up in order to push back instead of
forming into competitive factions that keep us divided.
Derek is also very open, in his lyrics
and between song raps, about his struggles with mental health issues. The more we talk about mental health the sooner the stigmas
surrounding it will fall by the wayside. If something he says at a
show encourages someone in the room to reach out for help and brings
them some sort of relief to their feelings of isolation, the greater
good has been served.
The Homeless Gospel Choir is on Anti-Flag's A-F Records. Please, take a moment to check out his work. Your ears will be greatly rewarded.
And if the internet isn't lying, Derek is assembling a band to take his songs out on the road with a fleshed out Punk Rock sound. Hopefully there will be a warm up show in the area before they head out.
As a
person that does not fit into the standard definition of a “grown
up,” I have started to find some of my parenting choices to be
rather comical while raising a fourteen year old girl.
I am
certainly not the khakis and golf shirt wearing type of father that
aspires to be the CEO of whatever soulless corporation that I ended
up working for. I could give a shit about sports and put as much
focus into rare punk rock singles and Batman as the average father
puts into their fantasy league.
A few
Saturdays ago, out of the blue, the kid asked if we could watch Kill
Bill. It had been a while since I had seen it so I figured “Hey,
why not.” She has always had a curiosity about the movie since
there has been a framed movie poster hanging on the wall in our house
since she was born. When I asked her if she wanted to watch the
standard US release or my bootleg copy of the bloodier Japanese
release, her eyes lit up. It was as if I asked her if she wanted ice
cream or ice cream with more ice cream on top. The story of a strong
female hero is something that I will always put in front of her. And
hearing her laugh her ass off at the over the top arterial spray is
something I will never forget.
The
only thing she didn't get was why I was laughing every time the water
feature went “Donk-Donk” before the final fight scene with O-Ren
Ishii. I explained that it was a device used to break the tension of
the moment and that it added levity to the scene because it's
something that wouldn't be there in your average action movie.
After
breakfast the next morning, the question of watching Kill Bill,
Vol. 2 was raised. Well, if we watched one then we would have to
watch the other. Otherwise we'd be uneven. That's sound logic in my
book.
Then
last weekend, we were stuck in traffic when we ventured out to a
major shopping hub out in the suburbs. The iPod landed on the Laura
Jane Grace cover of the Mountain Goats song “Best Ever Death Metal
Band In Denton.” Towards the end of the song the phrase “Hail,
Satan” is repeated quite a few times. With the windows down and
the volume up, a fourteen year old girl could be heard belting out
“Hail, Satan” repeatedly. The looks we got from these
All-American, white, suburbanite consumers were priceless. And we
did this several times.
After
we had finished hailing Satan, who never showed up, I was asked who
sang the song. I was then asked why someone named Laura had a voice
that sounded like someone that shouldn't be named Laura. Here's
where being a parent that doesn't much care what other people do
becomes troublesome.
I never
put much thought into the subject of people being transgender because
I don't really care. Whatever makes people less miserable is fine by
me. All of the arguments over bathrooms and whatever else people
come up with because of their fear of the “other” are tiresome
and I have other things to get done. So my usual attitude toward
“normals” makes it difficult to explain things in a way that my
kid would understand. After a brief explanation without me saying,
“Stupid, fucking bigots,” she responded with “Oh, that's why
there's that third bathroom at school.” Exactly.
After
we got home, we ended up watching an episode of Comic Book Men. A large chunk of the episode was about the movie Shooting Clerks
which was a reenactment of Kevin Smith's making of Clerks. During the episode I had the thought “I really want to watch Clerks
now.” No sooner than I had finished the thought, the kid's head
popped up and said “Can we watch Clerks?” As you wish.
I did
warn her that it was much different than Yoga Hosers and that
there was a bit of language which still bothers her for some reason
even though she grew up riding in cars while I was driving. She said
she was ready for it so we let it rip.
When
she saw the Death Star construction worker discussion, I had to pause
the movie because she was laughing so hard. She said that's the kind
of things she talks to her friends at school about. She thoroughly
enjoyed the movie. Even the parts I'm sure she didn't understand.
Every
time she asks to watch a movie that might be questionable for someone
her age, I have to remind myself that I took her to see Logan
when that was in the theaters. If you ever want to have a gut laugh
over mundane statistics, read the IMDB parents guide for Logan. On top of the sex and violence breakdown of the movie, someone went
through the trouble of counting how many times each swear word was
used and provided the count for each. If that's an actual job that
someone gets paid for, sign me up. I'll be your “fuck” counter
any day.
That's
why when Deadpool started airing on FX, I thought it would be
a good time for the kid to watch it since it would be scrubbed of
naughty words and deeds for basic cable. Boy, was I wrong.
Apparently, there were budget cuts at FX and the only people that
were laid off worked in the Standards and Practices department. The
naughty words and deeds were intact. At the first commercial break I
thought, “Well, fuck it. We may as well just watch the Blu-ray.” At least there wouldn't be any commercials and I find those more
offensive than anything. At least she didn't ask what the deal was
with the International Women's Day scene. Having to explain pegging
to my daughter is not really high up on my list of things to do.
Ever
since she was little, I had always exposed her to stand up comedy. George Carlin and Patton Oswalt were always in rotation. This was
followed with Lewis Black and certain bits from Bill Hicks.
We
huddle around the laptop on a regular basis to watch Lewis' The
Rant Is Due segments on his website. She giggles her head off at
his creative use of profanity and how “fuck” is used as a place
holder between syllables.
Following
the events at Parkland, FL and the subsequent protests, she was
giving a speech in her English class about gun control. I handed her
an essay that Bill Hicks had written on the subject. She asked if
she could cite it in her speech. I said sure but with one condition. She had to refer to him as “The Great American, Bill Hicks” in
her speech. She gave a puzzled look and asked why. My simple reply
was “Because he was.” She rolled her eyes at me, shrugged her
shoulders and made it work. To witness one of the darkest/greatest
pieces of comedy, jam “Bill Hicks Rush Limbaugh” into your
browser and be prepared to be horrified and delighted at the same
time.
I'm not
sure what affect loading a kid up with (un)healthy doses of the
Misfits and Kurt Vonnegut might have on her but it has to be a better
diet than reality TV, hyper competitive sports culture and Sunday
school can give her.
Back on
June 15th, 2018, the ears of the world were given the gift
of Purge from the band High Tension. The band hails from
Melbourne, Australia and are one of the greatest discoveries that
I've ever made while diving in the immense ocean of tunes that is
Bandcamp.
After
the let down that was the bill of opening acts for Code Orange, Purge
was the blistering and bruising punch in the earhole that I
needed to remind me of what heavy music could be. Due to the
Melbourne/Pittsburgh time difference, I received the email
notification that the album download was available late in the
evening on the night before the official release. I immediately ran
to my computer to jam high-res audio files onto my hard drive. For
two straight listens, at a volume that probably took years off my
life, I sat in the middle of the floor and watched my speakers, as if
something visual was going to happen. I was stunned.
Purge
is a 34 minute piece of empirical evidence that High Tension is
clearly not fucking around. After their first two albums, Death
Beat and Bully, drummer Damian Coward and guitarist Ash
Pegram departed. This left vocalist Karina Utomo and bass player
Matt Weston as the only original members. Lauren Hammel and Mike
Deslandes stepped in on drums and guitar, respectively. Sometimes
after a band goes through line-up changes, they either end up
sounding as if they lost a step or they stick to their guns and make
the same record twice because they don't want to leave their comfort
zone until everyone figures out where they fit in. That is not the
case with Purge. If High Tension saw the bar set by their
previous albums as a tall building, they leapt over it in a single
bound.
Karina
Utomo's vocal approach is one that gives me the impression that I
would not want to encounter her in a dark alley. She can bring the
savagery with the best of them and would certainly qualify to be
credited in the liner notes as “Throat,” much like HR, from the
the Bad Brains.
Lyrically,
Utomo is drawing from the purges of the mid-1960s that occurred in
Indonesia. This happened under General Muhammed Suharto who was the
dictator of the country until 1998. Much like the purges in Cambodia
under Pol Pot, artists and musicians were swept up and murdered with
their works becoming contraband. This had a negative cultural impact
on these countries that can still be felt today. Listening to the
rock and roll that was coming from these countries just before the
purges is not easy given the knowledge that shortly after it was
recorded all of the musicians were most likely rounded up and erased
from existence.
There
is only one sonic lull on the album, it's track 5, titled
“Surrender.” The velocity of the music may have subsided for
five minutes but the intensity and poetics of the lyrics that are
sung more than make up for it. “Hold on/To the fury in your
voices/Hold on/To the sorrow in your pulse/Drag the sword from your
back.” Things don't get much better than that. On more than one
occasion, I've found myself sitting quietly and reading the lyric
sheet that came with the vinyl. They are that good.
The
only downside seems to be the lack of North American distribution. The shipping costs from Australia were almost as much as the LP but
so incredibly worth it. The color breakdown, as far as I could tell,
is 100 on oxblood/bone swirl, 300 on oxblood/gold
swirl and 300 on straight oxblood. The oxblood/gold swirl looks like it's only available from
the High Tension Bandcamp page.
If
you're going to get the vinyl, I wouldn't wait too long. High
Tension's vinyl tends to dry up relatively fast from their
webstore/label. Currently, there are a few copies of Bully
on Discogs which was on pink vinyl. Since the initial run of 500, on clear vinyl, sold out, Death
Beat only popped up for
sale once on Discogs a few weeks ago. And that copy now resides on
my shelf which, coincidently, was delivered on the same day that
Purge
crash landed on my porch. My turntable has been black and blue and sweating profusely for the past few weeks.
