Band – Drug Church
Album – Paul Walker
Label – No Sleep
Release date – July 23
Sounds like – changing gear about 16 times, meaningful looks at the person in the car next to you, kissing Jordana Brewster, high-fucking-fiving the world
Drug Church are immediately awarded points for the sheer level ofÂ inventiveness when it comes to song titles. They’re clever in the fact that on one hand, they all sound like normal, everyday diary entries and on the other, a selection of rejected Future of the Left tracks. Deconstructing Snapcase and Shopping For A Belt for instance, are both prime examples that sound as if they’ve been lifted from the Falco handbook of barking nonsense.
Tongues jammed so firmly in cheek that they’re threatening to rip through the soft fleshly wall; this Albany five-piece are an eccentric and acerbic bunch and are big fans of Brian O’Conner (who isn’t though??) and it feels as if they really don’t give a shit if you don’t like their band. Drug Church probably revere being disliked – they probably actively encourage hostility and resentment and spend most of their time laughing maniacally.
“Everything went tits, up, everything shit the bed” bellows vocalist Patrick Kindlon on opener Thinking About Joining Drug Church – we’re through the looking glassÂ here people, and boy is it pissed off. Brash, snotty and sneering – this 91 second rant of fired-up punk rock sets the ball rolling art a pace of scorn-filled weirdness.
On Reading Youtube Comments, Drug Church channel much of their macabre and black humour in equal doses as well as embracing old age and becoming decrepit. See the barking chant of “DECLINE, DECLINE!” coupled with the contemptuous chorus, spat by vocalist Kindlon: “I still walk with a cane…but I’m heading for wheelchair!” all blasted over a wall of fractured chords and grizzled riffs. The slacker rock ‘n roll stamp of Shopping ForÂ A Belt is delivered at a taunt and frantic pace – packed with detuned guitar squeals, a barrage of pounding drums and braying vocals.
Drug Church probably revere being disliked – they probably actively encourage hostility and resentment and spend most of their time laughing maniacally..
“Who cares about you man? Who gives a fucking shit about you?” States Kindlon on the noisy pollutant that is Donny’s Woods. Strident and scything to the very core; this is the sound of disenchantment and mocking derision fed through an amp that’s been kicked down the stairs on to someone’s head. The brash and breakneck punk rock spit of Learning To Speak British lists countless problems of the mundane horrors of every day life, whilst Attending A Cousin’s Birthday Party is a spiky, post-punk jaunt, sounding like a more acidic and spiteful version of Title Fight, commenting on ugly kids and off-hand shouts, demanding that said cousin “breaks a leg.”
Hilariously, Deconstructing Snapcase does share some eerie similarities to the ‘sort of reformed’ Buffalo five-piece. Rasping vocals, taunt, aggressive guitars – it feels like quite a surreal homage, laced with cynicism and off-kilter hardcore dishevelment. Thrill Hill is a convulsing, noisy slab of indignant noisy rock, with that scrappy Fugazi-edge, mixed with a bitterÂ post-punk maniacal glint. Closing track Riding The Bus To Schenectady, is all gang-vocal chants of “WELCOME! WELCOME!” more belittling lyrical titbits in the form of “I was born unlucky….so I’m riding the bus” and lamenting of having to share said journeys with people who shoot up dope between their toes.
Paul Walker is a weird album – the self-deprecating humour, the antagonistic style and buzz-saw punk rock riffs lean it on the side of a record Title Fight might have made if they cheered up a bit. There’s not many bands that sound like Drug Church – strongly recommended only to people who like the actor Paul Walker and possibly his films. I look forward to the difficult second album, Vin Diesel.