D. SABLU

 

Well documented and rightfully fawned over garage damaged stomps from New Orleans, D. SABLU has (not so) quietly earned a reputation for destructive hooks. It's one of the dudes from CASUAL BURN, but truth told I only know of the latter because I'm low key obsessed with the former - the No True Silence full length platter from earlier this year only intensified that obsession. A decade (plus) later, this shit fills the Reatard void I didn't even know I felt...and apparently I felt it deeply, because I want more and more. These songs dropped in 2022 (for a tour, obviously) - there are more, and you can start here or here. Just start please, and don't stop.

"LIVE" FOR TOUR

TROPICAL DEPRESSION

 

Even a casual visitor here knows that I am drawn to freak sounds. The difficult listens are....are a fuel. It's not always comfortable (and that is, in fact, the point), just like working out your own thoughts when you don't have words. Or when you don't know what the thoughts are. The difficult listens are good because they challenge you(r ears), because they are awkward, because they are unfamiliar. Thunderous fist banging kång and a wall of pummeling DBeat? Shit, that's like a bowl of grandma's mashed potatoes and gravy compared to New Orleans trio TROPICAL DEPRESSSION. Hold The Knife Close is a four song lumbering exercise in patience....guitar squawks like a free jazz alto, the bass plops, the vocals wail like a feral child crying for ice cream before bed at 3am and the drums that are supposed to hold everything together instead seem to just encourage the sonic mania. There are times when you wonder if the members of TROPICAL DEPRESSION are even on the same page at all and then....."fukk, this is intentional" and everything changes. Imagine CRUCIFUCKS and STILLSUIT and FLIPPER trying to work out a SWELL MAPS cover set and you'll be on the right path...or the wrong one. Five songs on the lyric sheet....four on the tape (and one of them cuts off). Because you need to keep wondering. Keep fighting. Keep trying. 

HOLD THE KNIFE CLOSE

SHITLOAD

Another nail of insanity into the lid of the coffin that was The Before. And we move into The After filled with uncertainty and chaos and lies, serenaded by SHITLOAD. One quarter hour of mania recorded on the heels of a third vaccination dose - 5G microchip noizecore. 

MORE VACCINATED THAN YOU!

 

CURVED DOG

Comparison are the laziest way to try to describe music, but sometimes the shit is just so out there that one's only recourse is to relate the sounds to something that you already know...something that you can put your finger on. So, while CURVED DOG doesn't sound like THE FALL, they share the same angular abrasiveness. And while there are only a few moments where I can actually say "oh man, that's some D. Boon shit right there," I still think that MINUTEMEN probably approached songwriting in much the same manner as CURVED DOG. And yeah, I want to say that somehow CURVED DOG land in between Sonic Death and ERASE ERRATA...even though objectively that doesn't make any sense at all. But that's how I compartmentalize CURVED DOG, and these are the things I think of when I pull out this 2013 demo. I also think that "2nd Hand Patois" is nothing short of brilliance, and that the guitar work on In Defense Of Plagiarism is actually closer to James Blood Ulmer than to D. Boon, but I digress....

IN DEFENSE OF PLAGIARISM

OBLIVIA

There is no logical reason for this to be in my life, and likely not yours either. There is also no logical reason for me to like this....but I do, and I trust that (some of) you will also. When enjoyed at an appropriate volume, I feel like an old man in the corner at a packed club in a strange town where I have no friends, and the 20 year olds are going wild and rubbing on each other with an MDMA fueled fury. It's sweaty and weird, but it sounds good and there are probably light effects so I stick around....because fukk it I'm already there, right? Their virtual presence states that New Orleans' OBLLIVIA are a: "mystic noise diva narrating the fall of mankind in a pitch shifted key" and honestly that sounds about right. It's a serious trip to listen to, but it feels even stranger to enjoy. Perceptions and aural observations welcomed. 

MARTYR COMPLEX

TORTURE GARDEN

HECATOMBS

GLUT

It's nothing fancy....but it doesn't need to be fancy. You want to listen hardcore? Ok...let's listen.

PRIMITIVE

GLUT

BITCHFACE

Between this demo and watching MYSTIC INANE positively own an art gallery two blocks from the ocean last night, I feel like New Orleans might be where it's at right now. These punks deliver snarky and disjointed (and catchy) tunes that launch into "grab your throat and pay attention you fukk" hardcore that is about six steps beyond punk as shit, and their ability to combine 2015 retro hardcore with a delivery that actually sounds like it's from the '80s...? That's a feat. And "I Hate Burlesque" is a pretty untouchable jammer.

HIGH MAINTENANCE

PRESSURES

I had owned the self titled PRESSURES 12" (which features all of the tracks on this Casting Shadows cassette) for a few months before I saw that they were scheduled to play a fest that I was already planning to attend - needless to say I was very excited. The band is such a perfect time warp, electro/synth dancefloor bliss with brilliantly robotic vocals...they do absolutely everything right. It's perhaps not hard for bands to simply recreate, but when the bands take the feeling and the energy from bygone eras and long passé subgenres and breathe life into them, make them feel new again? That's something special, and that is what PRESSURES do. So yeah, I was excited. They were slated to play in the small room at Mohawk with a bunch of other not punk at all bands, which suited me fine (I would be seeing a lot of punk bands over this four day event), and their time slot didn't really even conflict with anything else I wanted to see, so boom. Robert wins. I arrived late and missed SURVIVE (which I still lament), but got to see New York band DIIV who, based on preliminary research into this not punk at all gig, seemed to have a few good tracks, and they were really bad. Like, absolutely terrible...but I've committed to spend the evening at the not punk at all show, so fukk it, right? I mean, it's not like I was going to go see MILK MUSIC, so I just stayed and drank - though I admit that I sneaked out to peep a few minutes of the POWER TRIP set (ruled, duh). And then 11:50 had arrived and it was time and I was pumped, I was going to lose my shit and dance my ass off.....and then it was 12:15....and then 12:30, you get the idea. Are you fukkn kidding me? I know there are a lot of things to plug in, but seriously?! It was taking them over an hour to set up four damn keyboards, and there seemed to be zero urgency as they just lolligagged around the stage, drinking, talking, casually plugging in patch cords while I waited. And waited. At a certain point, I started to take it as a personal affront, as if these two men were intentionally ruining my night, making me regret my decision to attend the not punk at all show instead of seeing punk things. Well, PRESSURES, maybe you won that night, because after standing in the back with my thumb up my ass waiting for you to figure out how to make sound come out of your overgrown Casios, I fucking left. I walked two blocks and I saw INSERVIBLES deliver the absolutely punkest set of the entire weekend. They were so punk, and they were so good, and even though it was still early when they were finished, I didn't even bother stopping back by Mohawk to see if you dummies had decided to entertain anyone because I didn't need you anymore. Good tape though, I listen to it often. 

CASTING SHADOWS

HEAT DUST

I don't think I've heard shoegazing '90s guitar driven alt/pop done this well. Ever. Not even in the '90s, and I listened to this shit like it was about to go out of style (it was). New Orleans' HEAT DUST are noisy, drunk, and absofuckinglutely beautiful....they pull out big guns with the guitar leads on "Sleeping Call" (the opening track, for fuck's sake), and they manage to get better from there. Lazy, breathy vocals, confident in their casual delivery, belt out indecipherable missives that had better be self deprecating laments about lovers lost and looking over your shoulder at the life that you missed because you were going the wrong direction...but if HEAT DUST makes a wrong turn on this 2011 recording, then I can't find it. 

HEAT DUST

For what it's worth, I keep seeing the internet calling this band "grunge," it's a rare example of the internet being wrong. TAD is grunge, MUDHONEY is grunge, HEAT DUST is pop.

ULTRA LITE

It's entirely possible that ULTRA LITE is contrived art punk drivel, but I'm inclined to believe that Slang Term For Hip Murder is nothing short of a brilliant piece of outsider noise. Disjointed ramblings and questionably tuned everything combine with a carpet bombing of various and sundry sounds and snappy, snotty, fukk you vocals. Tracks like "Portrait Of The Artist As A Piece Of Shit" certainly imply these New Orleans mutants are very very aware of what they are doing, and it doesn't make it any less appealing. I can't really picture a band consciously trying to manufacture a SOCKEYE vibe, but this one comes close and adds a stylish erratic swagger (I'm talking about the title track here). File under whatever you like, digest at your own risk, I can assure you it sounds even better on the way out. 

SLANG TERM FOR HIP MURDER

NECRO HIPPIES

Punk is different in the south. Punk is too often a luxury in metropolitan areas (especially on the coasts), but when you go to a punk show in some sweltering and foreboding shithole town surrounded by ignorance and cultural void...the shit is necessary. That feeling of belonging, even if you are still by yourself; that feeling of acceptance, even when you are still a complete outsider; the feeling that these people will reach out for you, even if you know that you will never scream while you are falling; and the sound that comes from desire. Maybe I'm putting too much onto NECRO HIPPIES, but this is the band that I needed when I was trapped there. You aren't going to get the flavor of the month today, you aren't going to get the latest trend or some internet based fashion plate steeped in supposed influences from bands you've never heard of but are supposed to love. But what you will get is a brutally honest and criminally good punk tape from 2010. Punk that is necessary. Punk is necessary.

NECRO HIPPIES

MYSTIC INANE

Snotty. Raw. Punk. 

Better than your band.

MYSTIC INANE

NECRO HIPPIES

NECRO HIPPIES are from New Orleans, and my pal Layla started raving about them a few months back. She played me their 12" and I thought it was pretty fukkn rad, and when they announced a gig in San Francisco, I was pretty stoked. I couldn't really tell if I was stoked to see NECRO HIPPIES or just stoked to see Layla flip her lid cause she was so damn excited about the show. If a band is good, then they are gonna be even better at Thrillhouse Records, and since that's where the show was, I figured we were all in for a pretty sweet evening. I didn't really hang out with them, just said hello and such, probably heckled just a little bit more than would normally be considered friendly, I just watched them fucking kill it. NECRO HIPPIES played like I remember playing when your band is young and you booked a tour that might have been a little too long for your sanity, your wallets, and your relationships with the other people in the van, but then there's a shitty room and it's rammed with dirty punks and that's why you got into the van 6 weeks ago when you still had your positive outlook - you did it all for nights like this. That's how NECRO HIPPIES played, they were fukkn great, and I even trekked across the bridge to see them in Oakland the next day (good show, RANK/XEROX were awesome, but it was more...sterile than the night before). I still didn't really hang out with them there either, just passed along a few awkward "I like your band" comments that still leave my mouth like a dumfounded teenager even though I'm pushing 40 and it's getting lighter every year...but I just felt like they were good damn folks, and that goes a long way with me. It doesn't hurt that the band serves up bare bones ultra catchy snotty American hardcore with a laid back attitude, and that the songs are in your face KBD worthy US punk put through a "fuck you" filter and then pissed all over.  No...that doesn't hurt at all.

SORE THROAT

Fast forward a few weeks and I saw the guitarist in Austin. We still didn't hang out, and I felt less urge to pass along "I like your band" comments since her band wasn't playing. We passed each other on Red River, I was headed from my total score of a parking space to watch Jerry A take a squishy dump all over whatever shred of a reputation POISON IDEA still manages to hold onto, and she gave me this tape.  A 2008 EP recorded "on a dumpstered boombox." I challenge you to get more punk than that. 

TIREFIRE

From the bloodcurling scream that opens the demo (and the dismissive "fuck off" that immediately follows) to the double bass assault of the questionably titled final track "Bomb The Homeless," this New Orleans black metal band manage to channel VENOM more effectively than just about anything I've come across.  TIREFIRE are hatefilled (if listening to the riffing isn't enough, try out "Punched On Principle"), funny (may I offer "Posercaust" and "Sideswiped By The Antichrist" as examples?), and appear to not enjoy marijuana (the opening track "Eyehateweed" gave me that impression).  This demo is a perfect combination of raw and brutal death/black metal with molasses laden confrontational southern crust.  Maybe they aren't the coolest dudes to hang out with...but shit man, I just hang out with hippies and freaks and queers out here in San Francisco, so what the shit do I know, right?  I know this tape sounds good, and that's about it.

MICROWAVE 2009