Degradation (Of Mental Faculties). Sick Fix and Coke Bust @ Uncle Crummy’s

Tis the week to wake up and take life seriously. Or at least as seriously as I’m willing to take it without becoming lame, you see. Let’s dance.

The openers of this non-ironic gathering of 40 oz. bottles was Terminal Crisis, a newly formed Boston Hardcore band featuring Krystina of Curmudgeon on vocals and Tom Draize on guitar, and someone else from BearTrap I don’t know by name. Quite solid, I look forward to their continued existence.

Next were No Sir I Won’t, who aren’t big fans of cops and the politic among us.

Pissed, loud, and red in the face, delivering right hooks in quick succession in the form of catchy Punk leaning on Hardcore ferocity, but always staying well in the realm that will subdue any attempts to throw tha fuck down. Not that some won’t try anyway.

Coke Bust, the superheroes of Straight-Edge Hardcore, are best experienced without a barricade, this much is true.

And shirtless

Having seen these strapping lads play at Maryland Deathfest, I was even more stoked to see them in an intimate venue where one may not only sweat on fellow moshers, but also the band themselves. Mic-sharing ensures the transmission of several low-level contagions, and a wrongly timed jump can lead to one nearly crashing into the drumset and being the truest showstopper in the sense of the word. It was manic, there were injuries, and it was a rip roarin’ good time. Coke Bust’s fusion of Powerviolence in short bursts of hepped up punk energy with a rock’n’roll sensibility that can lock into a solid groove and bust out a solo atypical of the genre makes them a sweet deal both in studio and when being headbutted by the vocalist.

One must applaud the drummer of Coke Bust, for he is also the drummer of Sick Fix, who are, as you may have guessed, another SxE outing, but this time joined by a superheroine.

With members of Magrudergrind also leading the charge into your ear canal, you can certainly bet the guitar tone is that sickly, almost wet sounding buzz that brings to mind grind bands like Nasum and Rotten Sound, as well as good ol’ Entombed in their death metal days. Sick Fix’s sound comes out as an amalgm of Nails fury and Weekend Nachos heaviness, with more controlled speed (i.e. little-no blasting) and of course, female vokills. It got rowdy, and several concussions were sustained, both by slipping on the floor slick with all manner of spilled beer, and blows to the head, intentional or not. Err on the side of caution and get knocked into a trash can, or get knocked out.

The transformation of vocalist Michelle from her off-stage (metaphorical stage here) personality and her on-stage mania is something to be seen. Catch them if they happen to roll through your area, buy something, get it signed, wear it every day. I’m nearing the end, and it’s nice.

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