By LA Weekly
By Henry Rollins
By Weekly Photographers
By Shea Serrano
By Nate "Igor" Smith
By Dan Weiss
By Erica E. Phillips
By Kai Flanders
Pissed Jeans,Hope for Men, (Sub Pop): “The first rule of Pissed Jeans is, you do not talk about Pissed Jeans.” Matt Korvette, lead singer of this Allentown, Pennsylvania, band, works as a claims adjuster by day. By night, he sings in this band, which I take to be his own personal Fight Club — a wreck room for his masculine id. Their music — insane, uncontrolled, ugly — hearkens back to the glory days of the late-1980s punk rock subgenre known as “pigfuck,” once practiced by bands like Jesus Lizard and Big Black, and praised as a formative influence on Nirvana. (The ugliness was also the element most excised from the limp, post-grunge music of Nickelback and Creed.) Pissed Jeans brings pigfuck roaring back — with one small difference. Where Jesus Lizard and co. seemed genuinely misanthropic, Pissed Jeans tempers its anger with irony. The cover of Hope for Men features two shirtless office-worker types caught in an embrace, a nod to the fact that pigfuck always seemed like a parodic outgrowth of poet Robert Bly’s “men’s movement” (picture men hugging each other and bro’ing down — only in the woods rather than in a dimly lit bar). The key to understanding Pissed Jeans is that they aren’t so much about male rage as they are about male feelings. It’s a novel thematic twist on an old musical idea. Pissed Jeans Aug. 26 at the Fuck Yeah Fest at the Echo.
Fucked Up: When I saw this band perform a few weeks ago, lead singer Damian “Pink Eyes” Abraham jokingly stuck a drumstick between his buttocks. Yet this Toronto band has gone to great lengths to seem mysterious, creating a purposefully twisted discography — much of it vinyl only — in which they name-drop Opus Dei, outsider artist Henry Darger and his hermaphroditic Vivian Girls, Nazis, the pre-Christian Book of Enoch, France’s Situationist International, and Spanish Civil War–era anarchists. Guys, we get it, you’re a cultish clique of angry young people — and you’re goofy postmodernists, to boot. I’m not so impressed by the esoterica — their connection to the material seems calculated rather than passionate — but I love Fucked Up’s music, which is built on the foundation of “harder, faster” hardcore from the early ’80s (think Black Flag, Minor Threat, D.O.A., Cro-Mags). It’s captivating the way they take the energy of traditional two-minute hardcore songs; add flourishes like violin codas, drum solos and long passages of whistling; mix in touches of psychedelia and Krautrock; then end up with five-to-10-minute hardcore drones. The 2006 full-length debut, Hidden World, repeats a lot of ideas contained on their vinyl releases, but that doesn’t lessen its impact. Fucked Up just completed their first full U.S. tour.
Find everything you're looking for in your city
Find the best happy hour deals in your city
Get today's exclusive deals at savings of anywhere from 50-90%
Check out the hottest list of places and things to do around your city