|—||Chris Traeger (via un-even-stephen)|
It’s unclear now what we intend.
We’re alone in our own world.
You don’t wanna be my boyfriend
and I don’t wanna be your girl.
And that, that’s a relief.
We’ll drink up our grief
and pine for summer
and we’ll buy beer to shotgun
and we’ll lay in the lawn
and we’ll be good.
Jon Stewart Goes After Fox in Powerful Ferguson Monologue
In relation to my previous review, it really grinds my skull when I come across a dull, slop of a hardcore band. So it was an absolute pleasure to listen to a hardcore record with the right balance of fury and passion. The third album by San Francisco’s Punch is a 20 minute wrecking ball of socio-political commentary. Compared to their blistering early work, ‘They Don’t Have to Believe’ shows the band at their most confident, focused, and most importantly, their most viscerally impacting. This is how a hardcore record should be in its purest form; no nonsense, just volcanically fuelled human emotions, hailing down upon the ignorant with rapid fire.
The most striking feature by the band is the seamless flow from d-beat blasting tempos to mid-tempo left turns. Songs like ‘Waiting Game’ gives you time to pick yourself up from a seizure after the pummelling temperament. The shorter tracks are the most deadly though; ‘Promises Kept’ leaves you with a fiery stitch, before being sent dizzily along screams and bass, until the final knockout plants you out cold on the floor. Breakdowns thrive wonderfully on this LP in the most un-clichéd way as found on ‘Personal Space’, sweating all the ferocity out of it.
I reviewed the latest album by Punch. One of the best bands currently in hardcore punk, they’ve released their most focused, most confident and most visceral record yet!
FFO: Dangers, early Ceremony