STUPID PARTY: Self-titled: LP

Socrates’s hemlock: poisonous, self-inflicted, said to have slowly numbed his body part by part until the chill had taken him to death. Probably tasted like shit. Put it in two packets of Splenda, don’t stir them in, and you’ve got this LP. Sludgy, venomous punk that relents for some softer, sweeter moments—all over feedback that is the ringing in your ears as you romanticize the fallen structures around you. Then it’s back to the apocalypse. If you can’t envision the luminous portrait I’m painting for you—uh, it sounds like they stole Nirvana’s gear from the Bleach sessions then hid from the cops in a broom closet until the cabin fever and paranoia drove them insane. They’re really high from the fumes of all the cleaning products in said broom closet when they decide to switch between quickly aborted attempts at “jamming” and Carrie Nations covers they don’t know the words or chords to. Lots of people think this band sounds like a fucked-up disciple of Hickey. I see it, but, unfortunately, also in the gimmicky insert/”band bio.” It’s funny but seems a bit affected. Highly recommended if you want punk that’s interesting, not just awesome. –Dave Brainwreck

 –guest (Freedom School)