Another video by your mans and ‘em. File under: “Jazzy DeathNoiseDoomSludgeGrindHardcoreViolenceBlast Nasty”.
So as I’ve previously explained, the pitiful iFLIP simply could not withstand the force that was Wetnurse…so I escaped only with footage of the song you see/hear…here…in the video (I have no idea how Apple’s little invention got through the pummel of Landmine…but let’s all be happy it did). Not only that, but by the time Salome took the stage, I had already burned away most of the recording time, thus leaving me with enough for only one entire joint. Needless to say, I feel like this video, though not quite shorting anyone, does not do the two aforementioned beasts the justice that they deserve. In reality, you should not be judging any band by a video on the Internet (but rather by the sound of the records and off the performance, in-person), especially not any one of these three incredible metallic conglomerates.
Yes, that one part where the camera goes nuts is due to volunteering to get caught in a mosh.
Also note how scary Salome look with the blurriness, from being in the back of the room, and the red lighting. Visuals appropriate enough for their mega downtuned, landslide of sinister-as-fuck soundclashery.
Warning: this post is full of bitter, jaded, elitist native New Yorker spew…but I swear it is an important and entertaining read and I fuckin’ like it.
If I had to explain the graphics for the new PTP layout (those which sit at the top of the page)… I chose this photo as an obvious reflection of the concept behind PTP, displaying the constant battle and ever-growing void between the ideals of “Old(e) New York” and those of “New New York” (more like “hollow preach” if you ask me)…progression, sincerity, revolt, and insanity versus mass consumerism/mass production, submission, unilateralism, and “white-washing” (take that how you want it, fucker). For the layman: on the left, you have one of the last truly legendary walls, on 23rd Street and 10th Avenue, while on the right, you have workers “blue washing” the Manhattan Mini-Storage logo off of the building to make things more “aesthetically pleasing” for users of the High Line walkway.
You should know who these two cats are…yes, the two names in large print on the aforementioned wall…especially if you’ve grown and actually lived in NYC. Having just moved here does NOT earn you the right to say you’ve LIVED in this shithole…and yes it IS a shithole, but no, not at all like it used to be. I’d say it is worse NOW, with subway cars that more resemble the bathrooms in your sterile and florescent 5th Avenue shared office than that of CBGB’s, or the Wetlands. And there’s more reason ahead. But first. The original point of this article.
How 4 letters can be absolutely fucking brutal. It’s about the approach and heart behind it.
Nice little tale of Revs from NPR’s This American Life. Episode titled “Cat and Mouse”.
Revs with his “PNC”, COST (from On The Go 2: Repeat Offender…check the whole movie in yesterday’s post)
Now to more reasons why shit has gone increasingly awry…
Yesterday’s post at Vanishing New York was a sad one; revealing the migration of hard hats to the wall on the left (photo by Steven Benga). Yes. They have defaced our wall. Under the orders of City authorities, whom did everything but consult with the actual people who make up the city, workers went on to remove the Revs and Cost tags. Very well-written articles, full of colorful adjectives and true opinion (of course, opposing this madness) can be found here and at The Gothamist. Props to Jeremiah Moss of VNY, Steven Benga, and Jake Dobkin and John Del Signore at The Gothamist for the absolutely necessary coverage on the destruction of a vital piece of NYC history.
Originally, I was going to title this post “Break Down The Walls”…but after having read the news at VNY, the inner feeling of angry backlash has grown from merely “something in the air” to a dense, mustard yellow fog. They are doing the breaking. It’s time for some get-back.
“Show You No Mercy” I tried to stop myself Told you those games ain’t good for yourself Gave ya advice cuz I thought you could hear Better listen closely cuz your end is near
Won’t show you no mercy at all Gonna kick ya, kick ya when you’re takin your fall Won’t show you no mercy today Gonna hit ya, hit ya when you’re movin on your way
Put ya in check cuz I thought you were my friend Sorry it had to come to the bitter end Just like a blind man you can’t see Better move along and just let me be
Don’t come to me For no sympathy You won’t get none here Just leave you in fear
Won’t show you no mercy at all
What does it take to prove you were a fake I thought so anyway, won’t show you no mercy today Won’t show you no mercy at all
The mayor and Parks authority can fuck off, along with the likes of luxury crusties and b&t kids. I hope a biblical rain of poly-epoxy and 4AM rebellion hit the section between Gansevoort Street and 34th Street like gangbusters…and rows of doped out, late-70′s Times Square hookers rise from the ground to “throw pussy” at any and ALL who choose to peruse the High Line.
As a final musical dedication…to both Revs and Cost…two cats who spat on the velvet rope of conventionality.
“Break The Chain” time for you to listen i got something to say get back! stay the fuck away! keep your distance and i’ll be free plastic molds, human shapes all distorted, figures of hate all the static fucks my brain must escape break the chain!
What is the one most noteworthy thing the U.S. cities of Chandler, Arizona and Camden, New Jersey share? The answer to that lies within one name: Unruh.
On September 6, 1949, war veteran Howard Unruh made the decision to roam his neighborhood of Camden, with German Luger pistol in hand, and engage in what would be known as the “Walk of Death”, the first single-episode of mass murder in U.S. history. In what only lasted 12 minutes, Unruh had ruthlessly acquired a bodycount of 13 with 14 shots fired, not excluding women and children. He eventually surrendered, but not after wounding several more in a frontdoor standoff with 60-police officers.
Unruh was eventually seen as insane, diagnosed with paranoid schizophrenia, and sentenced to New Jersey Hospital for the Insane (now known as Trenton Psychiatric Hospital). In an interview with a psychologist, he left the public with a final quote, “I’d have killed a thousand if I had bullets enough.”
He then became known as “Father of Mass Murder”.
Now that the scene has been set…(jeez)
Cut to 1995. By this time, “extreme music” had developed into a monstrous, winding tree with proud, interwoven branches, fostering the growth of numerous mutant subgenres. This hybridization, starting in the mid to late 80′s with the styles of Crossover and Crust, truly blurred the dividing line between Hardcore and Metal. Bands like Neurosis and Rorschach stood as exceptional proof and became the blueprint to many of their successors; Chandler, Arizona’s Unruh made for an extraordinary progeny, further pushing this cross-pollination into something of gold. What makes up Unruh’s sonic assault? Imagine a pot. Smear the entire inside of said pot with a molasses-thick coating of Hardcore-minded energy; this will soon cook into a hardened shell, tightly encasing the filling ingredients. Throw in a generous spoonful of Thrash. Combine equal parts blasts and technical riffage (Grindcore and Death Metal brand recommended), whisk in a metal bowl, and add once well blended. Seal with one part Remain Sedate-era Charles Maggio, two parts Exorcist-era possessed Linda Blair. Finally, take the sealed pot into Death Valley in the dead of summer, douse with jet fuel and ignite to cook. Commence ritualistic dance of choice. Once complete, extinguish the blaze by hosing down with a concoction of unrelenting angst, torment, and fury.
Voila! Your almighty “metallic hardcore” band of previous mention is ready for consumption.
Seemingly enigmatic, not only did these cats leave practically no stone unturned across the landscape of audio brutality, and then some, but the words, as harshly ejected by Mike Edwards, fell into the form of sincere prose; brandishing an elegant balance between unguarded, self-examination and social commentary of the most livid kind. No useless banter about “scene” politics or being tough, nor any tired discourse about saving the whales or suicide …just the bludgeoning violence of the music coupled with refined lyricism, thus making them even more impossible to box in for classification.
Click the image (left) to see the lyrics insert from their first album, Misery Strengthened Faith. Click the link to d/l it as ripped from vinyl (not me). It has been re-released on CD by King Of The Monsters with many bonus tracks included…so scour the Internet and BUY it (I’m pretty sure Interpunk has it).
BRUTAL. A band who efficiently discharges the energy of their recordings directly into live form. Super rare to see any footage of them…so mucho propers to homey who uploaded this to the ‘tube.
Okay. Fucking intense, tight, and thoroughly entertaining performance. Typical German punk/hardcore scene hijinx with the paper mache snowball wars and energy (at least from what live footage I’ve seen of other bands playing in that region).
…not to mention a quick Nirvana rendition…yes, THAT Nirvana.
Come September 25th, I will be tearing my vocal chords out at the NYC reunion…then I’m skating off to the Organized Konfusion/P.R.T. show (followed by the C.R. reunion/finale out in Shaolin the next day). I will have no face.
This was found under the “related videos” section of the following (probably infamous) clip of Rorschach playing their cover of Black Flag’s “My War”. As I was one of the unlucky few who missed them in the early 90′s, the “My War” performance was the first live clip that I had the pleasure of finding. I was seriously floored. In this, I saw a band who looked and performed as they sounded on record…fucking crazy.
The fact that, in the video, they are all reduced to silhouettes thrashing around on stage, due to the venue’s choice of “mood lighting”, made this even more psychologically appealing. To me, it heartily reinforced the band’s bold, and sometimes unsettling, visual aesthetic (as well as that of the music). Let’s also not overlook the coincidence of the whole “cloaked identity”/Watchmen comic book character (from whom their name was adopted)…and the element of ambiguity that which the inkblot test was centered around (from which Alan Moore derived the name for his character).
Note: I’ve recently come across a few too many people who are into aggressive/brutal forms of band-provided music who were not all too familiar with the grandmasters, Infest, therefore I kind of went into article mode.
Infest. 80′s West Coast Hardcore quartet who pioneered the style of play that later became known as “Powerviolence”. What does that mean? They played with an insanely fast, ridiculously slow, always heavy, raw, livid, no punches pulled approach to “letting it all out” (usually in far less than 1.5 minutes). They took the unhinged blasts started by Siege and The Neos (them being especially unhinged) and just stuffed the aggression into a tighter-bodied shell casing…the result…a much stronger, more focused site of impact to the victim, causing irreparable damage.
Aside from the initial, all too obvious sonic attributes, one of my favorite elements about this band was the fact that the material, as progressive as it was to play stop-starts and tempo changes that intensely, was just that. They managed to hold onto the mega primal energy about which most hardcore purists fly off the edge in a rant. It was absolute raging…and as much of a non-academic bullying as it was, plus the fact that Joe Denunzio’s physical appearance somewhat resembled a certain Big Moose Mason (of Archie fame), they were overtly anti-jock/anti-violence/anti-sexism (and “anti” toward plenty of the other ills and isms that have plagued society for centuries) and their songs reflected this in a refreshingly intelligent snap of wit.
They were intact for around 10 years (calling it a day sometime in ’96, so I’ve heard) and constantly made killer music during that period. They left us with a handful of vinyl, a split or three, and mucho bootlegs…not to mention some live footy that is not hard to come by (thank you Internet). Their most popular release is one that makes the history books again and again…for good reason…1988′s Slave.
Enjoy (lyrics contained on individual youtube pages):
“Mindless” (obviously a trend of straightedge beliefs exist in the music…but they weren’t to the extreme of being called a “straightedge band”…there’s a difference)
The original name of this blog before the two subsequent name changes… Seriously. Everyone’s favorite for good reason.
Perhaps NOT the best way to get into a band of this style, but I just thought this was a ridiculously good live recording/performance. Shouts to KillThatCat for the insanely ill footy.
I got into Hardcore around 17-18, a bit late in comparison to my friends or most general cases…I wasn’t one of those 15-year olds who ran away from his home in the suburbs to become Lower East Side squat fodder, nor was I the 11-year old sneaking out of my room in my (parent’s) apartment to hit up CB’s or ABC matinees. I was always deep into Hip Hop (since 1st Grade, thanks to Video Music Box and a select few radio shows on the FM dial at the time)…but had friends who were just as deeply entrenched in Hardcore, as well as other types of band-driven, “extreme music”. Some had older siblings who were active participants in the New York scene, some were in bands, whatever. I always loved heavy, aggressive stuff…a salient example: Public Enemy was my favorite group until Wu Tang came out (not that they eclipsed the mighty PE, it was just that the torch was ready to be passed by that time, IMO)…both are perfect models for the type of uncompromising aural assault that perked my ears. Aside from amazing lyricism of these respective groups, PE had their bumrush of attitude translated into the music and stage and wall-of-sound sonic downpour provided by the Bomb Squad…while Wu was a powerhouse rendition of the “Hip Hop crew”…harboring a nasty grit so thick in the noise and language, you felt as if it was scraped off of the bottom of the bucket by the rusty edge of a boxcutter…half thanks to Rza’s collection of drugged-up, pissed off whilst sick with dementia sample collages half-pasted over crusty drum loops and other analog dressings.
Anyways…thanks to my pops who listened to plenty of Zeppelin and Deep Purple (if not Floyd), of whom the slower, consequently heavier, stuff always caught my attention…I went and seeked out the gods of what would become “sludge”, Black Sabbath, and reminded pops of their Earth rattling existence. I was then into noisy stuff that ranged from post-punk/post-hardcore (see: Steve Albini bands 1-3 and Drive Like Jehu) to sludge-math-post-rock-whatever (see: bands mostly on Skingraft Records…and Neurosis). I guess I was thirsty for some diversity in tempo (plus I really enjoyed the faster parts in DLJ songs). So it began.
Bad Brains, Black Flag, Leeway…then SPAZZ (I think Burn was in there as well). That’s how it went, I don’t know how or why, really…I think one night I was talking my boy Ty about fastest bands and he had mentioned Spazz. Spazz before D.R.I., Spazz before L’Arm, Spazz before Siege, Spazz before Infest, Spazz before No Comment, Spazz even before Neanderthal or Crossed Out. They were my intro to that degree of speed and brutality (other than what, Slayer?).
There you have it. I, again, don’t know why I just explained my life story on here…I guess that’s the ugly truth behind starting and maintaining a blog. Regardless, Spazz were a trio out of Cali who were active from I think 1992 up until around 2000. They played a crushingly frantic-as-fuck style known as “Power Violence” (or “Powerviolence”)…and were known for their Wu Tang’esque love of Hip Hop and Kung Fu flicks (well, that was the prototype for every 90′s Hip Hop kid). They released a ton of music in that time and managed to put a smile on many a face, perhaps it was also due to the fact that they managed to do splits with a long, VARIED list of bands (i.e. from powerviolence buddies such as Lack of Interest and Charles Bronson…to Albany grinders Monster-X…to thrash metal masters Hirax…to New York City’s thug mosher unit, 25 Ta Life).
Anyways…I love this stuff. They seemed to have kept it 100% and strayed beyond the conventional lines of hardcore or “being punk” by not taking themselves so seriously (from the song titles/lyrics to general attitude)…and blurring the lines of tradition through the implementation of seemingly random instruments (harmonica and ukulele, anyone?) and snippets of Hip Hop movies and song/slang references in their music. They even had Kool Keith do a drop on their La Revancha LP. The best part is, their love for the two subcultures, Hardcore and Hip Hop, is represented in a genuinely flavorful blend that doesn’t then fade into a tasteless, face-screwing “rap core”, “thug core”, “yo-yo-yo-check-this-shit-out kids in athletic jerseys hard posturing over neanderthallic breakdowns” schema.
They kinda reminded us of…us. We were kids who didn’t feel the pathetic need to subscribe solely to one circle of people in order to achieve something ineffectually vain like a renewed sense of subcultural validity. That type of insecurity was not permitted in our cipher. There was no frontin’ in our formula.