I never imagined I’d end up in Kingston someday. I didn’t even really know where it was, but it’s apparently right next to the ocean, which fit greatly because of the headlining band, so it may or may not have been intentional. This was similar to the Dysentery show in a Methodist church in Pittsfield, in that there was no stage(the karate kids and the band are on equal footing), and there were a lot of random girls/old dudes who probably don’t even like hardcore and just like to watch the funny dances. Sure. The age range here seemed to be 10-mid 40s.
Clit Misanthropy like to make loud noises, and this they do quite well, but with a little bitta smoooooothness on the side.
These guys are out to beat your brains into a frying pan and scramble them. Add a little salt for flavor. Having never heard of them before, I was wondering why kids were moving the walls to the jazzy intro, but it all makes sense now, sorta! Judging by the fact that this show is the very first time I’ve heard of them, I’m guessing they don’t get out of whatever part of Massachusetts Kingston is in very much, which makes me sadface.
Well fuck this, there are about tenthousand bands called Second Chance, thus revealing in a disturbing light mankind’s innate capacity for mercy.
These guys played something I like to call Brutal Pop Punk. They mixed Rise Against vocals with a bouncier version of Hot Water Music/The Draft instruments and a few low-end breakdowns with big booties. It was an interesting combo, and a fun one nonetheless.
I have no fucken clue who/what this guy was, but he took up about 20 minutes of the show’s time before Free Beer! so I guess I’ll include him in this review. Portrayed as such.
So this guy rambled on about going to Punk Rock shows as a kid, how he became a motivational speaker, got everyone to join arms and kiss the person to their left(or pretend to), and sing ukelele covers of Misfits’ Last Caress and The Temptations’ My Girl. Yeah.
Once again, no goddamn picture. This is getting silly.
Free Beer! play an energetic brand of Hardcore that occasionally borders on being so fast it becomes Noisecore, and sometimes lapses into more standard sounding Punk. All over the map, this lot. Definitely worth getting kicked in the face by what looked like a 12 year old.
Treachery plays some of the most uncompromising, take-no-prisoners, clichéd phrase invoking Deathcore in the Massachusetts/Rhode Island area, so it’s a shame their crowd isn’t huge and full of mixed martial artists. If a song about Dragon Ball Z doesn’t get your blood moving, you might be dead, and I’m assuming that everyone was left comatose by Free Beer because nary a soul other than an awkward vegan pitted consistently. Get off yer fat arses and help break some chairs, you lot! Treachery’s breakdowns have more low-end than a pregnant hoodrat, bitch.
In Depths And Tides
In Depths And Tides, Parkway Drive, and Oceano’s first album are what I like to think of as Watercore. It brings to mind a massive body of water swallowing and crushing you after your pithy failed mutiny or forgetting your water wings. It’s chug-heavy yet melodic enough to keep some musical competency in the game. The crowd was a bit on again and off again with the help of a couple dudes in Treachery, and a few dedicated shorthairs doing their Samurai Pizza Cats thang. They ended with a cover of an Annabel Lee song, which I only know because I was told this. It was very good, I must say, and I’d like to know the title so I can go make love to it.
And there you have it, a recounting of how Kingston barely managed to not become one with the sea.