Tag: Punk
Hail Something Good
I found Dikembe during my early college years the way students discovers most things in school. Browsing around online while procrastinating on their papers. Yeah, I was that guy. Somehow I graduated with a bachelors though. Maybe I just had it easy. If you’ve read this blog you know I’m not the smartest man but I have many other valuable qualities. Dikembe are much the same. Sure they’re not the most dynamic band out there but I find myself in love with them. There’s something to admire in bands who you see, feel, and most importantly hear give their true selves to us in their art. When you see them perform it’s to easy to synthesize they’re simply real and honest.
Hail Something follows a few years of touring and small releases since Mediumship, an album that did little for me as a fan. It was a bit prettier sounding and didn’t keep my attention for more than one spin. Hail gets back to the Chicago Bowls days. More crunch and feedback along with strong riffs that make songs distinct. “Earth Around Me” possesses a riff to remember. The opening title track gives us those Dikembe hallmarks in a bar room anthem form. “I’m gonna lie to the public’ while trying to find something to your life to honor. I’m not sure what they mean. I can connect with trying to find a purpose in something yet feeling like I’m lying through my teeth when asked if I’m making way. It’s a strong opener and one of my favorites. It’s an album of anxiety. Uncertainty. Depression. Unlike a Black Flag‘s blast of energy and anger or a Blink‘s rush of enthusiastic joy and excitement, Dikembe has harnessed emo into short bursts of grief. “Spring Box” exults this concise internal pain. It’s not innovative. Joyce Manor has been doing something similar but doesn’t channel emo into this brief powerful combustion of anguished energy.
In about 25 minutes Dikembe crush their craft. Hail Something establishes the band’s current place in their career. They’re working independently through Bandcamp’s subscription service to release music on their terms and directly connect with fans. Dikembe made an album that reins in all their best elements into a compact composition. There’s something romantic about a band churning away in a vacuum. They don’t care about being some seminal band like the bands they probably grew up on. Their art is thrown into the infinite void without regard for anything but what satisfies their creativity and fans.
Soft Animal
I hadn’t been to the Che Cafe in almost 3 years or so. The venue survived a near shutdown from the University of California San Diego and stayed opened just of campus. Coming back refreshed my memories as a concert goer as a teenager and young adult. It doesn’t feel tarnished by times past with my ex or old friends. The Che, after all this time, still stands and hosts bands I want to see in a tight space. I went with some good friends to see The Hotelier last night. I wasn’t too familiar with them other than their Home, Like Noplace is There and briefly browsing them on YouTube. They’re on tour promoting their new record Goodness which the press has praised thoroughly.
The band didn’t seem too energized but performed a great setlist of new and old songs. They ran through a strong portion of Home playing “Your Deep Rest”, “Among The Wildflowers”, and “Life in Drag” early. I had hoped for these listening to their discography and got my wish. It’s pretty rare for bands, in my experience, to play songs off their records in order, unless they’re playing a full record. I felt myself falling into the Wildflowers singing the words I knew. The mixed crowd of kids and adults murmured as well. After they quieted down, Hotelier broke into “Life in Drag” inciting their ferocity into the front stage crowd. Finally some motion, some energy, some connect from band to audience, fans to artists. I knew this was what I missed about going to shows.
Hotelier’s best moments came during a new song “Soft Animal” in middle of the set. It’s a beautiful song and to experience it live validates my affection for the lyrics and pulse. Going through all my tragedies over the past year, especially recently, “Soft Animal” helps me put myself into perspective. Life is beautiful when you look outside of yourself. There’s more to existence than our own. The lyrics speak about encountering fawn in the winter, probably in Massachusetts where Hotelier is from. When I think about the wonder of earth, and all it homes, the words “make me believe that I don’t have to die” heals the wound in my chest. Like two hands rubbing warm water on my body. It was therapeutic. The Hotelier had a solid performance. As a new fan I can see they’re building on a connection with their scene. Goodness will serve well them well for the next two years or so on tours. This is a group I will look to see again on bigger stages with bigger crowds.
Disaesthetic 