Friday, July 22, 2011

Charles Manson, not Edward Cullen

So, last night I went down to Treasure Town, a really fucking cool DIY space just a few stops west off of the Pink Line. I went with the intention of seeing Lechuza, who are a totally fucking great metal/crust/ska-tinged/doom/whatever band. I saw them a few months ago at Archer Nemesis and their heavy riffage blew my mind out the back of my head. I don't know Lechuza's official stance on marijuana, but they've got enough Master of Reality-style Black Sabbath elements in there for a stoner like me to really dig on. I snagged a six pack of PBR and a one-day CTA pass (which will come in handy for picking up a fresh eighth today after work - again, stoner) and hopped on the train.

I also went to get my copy of BANNED! - a 'zine by two young dudes out of Berwyn. (BERRRWYN!) They caught Sex Bunker when we played with MDC about a year back, and I guess we made an impression on them. They reviewed Great, More Garbage in such glowing terms, I won't even bother to paraphrase, I'll just copy the whole damn review here - for the sake of my ego more than anything else.
"One of our favorite local bands, Sex Bunker, is back with their demo 'Great More Garbage.' Taking a different leaf from 'Everything is Awful,' Sex Bunker throws away their previously (semi) catchy choruses in favor of pure noise. That being said the band's new formula sounds more menacing, a bit like Detroit's Blight meets Sonic Youth and maybe a touch of Negative Approach for good measure. The lo-fi production adds to the band's heavy sound as vocalist, Mez, sounds like a kidnap victim screaming desperately for help out of the back of a trunk. Or maybe he's the one doing the kidnapping. Sex Bunker is not the type of band you want to listen to in front of your grandmother . . . or even your friends. Featuring unadulterated blasts of violent, angst filled (in a Charles Manson, not Edward Cullen sort of way), brain-melting music, Sex Bunker's new release is not for the faint of heart. But for everyone who's not a pussy, get it. Now."
Now that is right pretty word-smithing, right there. The Negative Approach reference in particular is awesome, because one of the first songs I covered in my first band was "Nothing" and John Brannon is one of the best hardcore screamers ever. MIDWEST RULES FUCK YOU!

Ahem. Sorry, I got a little overexcited there for a second.

Of course, I would've preferred that they used "everyone who's not a pasty, spineless tool of the Pig-Dogs" to "everyone who's not a pussy" but I'll take what I can get, especially when what I get is this excited about our music. I could go on about the gendered aspects of language, and how we can reinforce oppressive frames of thought through unintentionally sexist slang, but I'll save it for the lyrics. Just, y'know, do me a favor and read the lyrics, alright?

The last band I caught before heading home was Adelitas, who came all the way from Portland. They were fantastic. I hadn't intended on staying for their set because it was getting late and I needed my beauty sleep, but they played fourth instead of last, bumping Sin Orden (who I had to miss, unfortunately) and totally taking me by surprise.

I assume Adelitas take their name from La Adelita, which is a cool bit of history. They play hardcore punk with a heavy infusion of Latin American folk music. The thing that makes Adelitas stand out above the pack is the way their songs flow effortlessly back and forth from an ass-shaking Latin rhythm to headbanging hardcore. They were fantastic live - the band was tight and the singer was enthusiastic. Treasure Town is the second floor of a huge old warehouse, and the air was so thick with humidity that it felt like you could cut out a chunk and serve it on a plate. Oppressive conditions were cast aside, however, once Adelitas launched into the first of their Latin-flavored hardcore jams, and the crowd was dancing in no time.

I managed to snag a CD-R, along with a sticker and tour poster, but I'm gonna try and get my grubby mitts their new LP. I don't know what label they're on (if any) and I didn't catch the name of a distro that had 'em, but the bassist said they'd figure something out if I e-mailed them. I hope I don't have to wait until they're back home from tour.

It was a great night, all in all. Following a short train ride home I curled up in my bed with my mini-bubbler and smoked the last of my grass while reading BANNED. It was a great read - and it's cool that the whole thing is relatively Chicago-centric. Hopefully the boys from Berwyn keep cranking out more issues.

In the meantime, Sex Bunker has been hammering away in our basement, creating new slabs of sonic terror for you. "Bad acid trip music," as Bert says. Hopefully we'll have a demo to post sometime next week.

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