So I was in Munich for Oktoberfest last week, and had 1.32
gallons (5 liters) of wheat’n’hoppy goodness spread out over five hours in the
following three tents: Lowenbrau, Paulaner and Hofbrau; the first being an
early-morning shotgun initiation into the drop-your-socks-and-grab-your-lederhosen
world of Germanic beer-chugging, the second being more of the same but bringing
the odd coincidence of my better half and I sitting down next to somebody from
her home town in PA and finally, the third being the nail that closed the
coffin…I remember chanting and screaming “Prost!”, meeting some Aussies, buying
a round for our entire table, scarfing on a cold sausage (the Oktoberfest
version of a Slim Jim) like a
fucking death row prisoner, hunkered down over his last meal before they
brought me to the chair…
Fast-forward to me waking up at 7pm, in a hotel room I don’t
remember checking in to and nursing the third-worst hangover of my career.
Class.
What does this have to do with anything, and more
importantly, vinyl? Well, homegirl and I were on the guest list for Every Time
I Die’s show in Munich the night after our debauchery ensued, and I was so
floored (I’m getting old) I just couldn’t make it out the door and bring myself
to start drinking again and push German teenagers on my way towards the stage
to contribute my guest vocals for the evening. So when I got back in on
Saturday night, I went through the catalogue and put Hot Damn! on the turntable: my favorite ETID record.
To me, ETID have always been the hardcore scene’s version of
AC/DC: some nasty-riff-and-grind chunk that most people seem to enjoy
regardless of their musical preferences, the kind of sexually-tinged,
drug-reference-laden (see lyrics like “Here’s to cheap sex and codeine, in a
hospital bed”) rebellious ish you throw on before ripping down your posters and
taking a sledgehammer to the wall in between your room and the toilet.
“Tonight I’m coming home in a coma if it fucking kills me,”
is a pretty rad way to start a record as far as I’m concerned, and “Romeo A
Go-Go” is their best leadoff track. The immaturity of the lyrics jives well
with the meet-me-by-the-dumpster-out-back vibe they’ve always pushed into the
atmosphere.
For my money, the meat of this album is in the one-two-three
punch of tracks four, five and six: “Godspeed Us To Sea” into “She’s My
Rushmore” Into “Floater.” The static-crunch of the guitars yields one of my
top-ten favorite guitar sounds I’ve ever heard. Jordan Buckley and Andy
Williams are pure, died-in-the-wool riff machines.
The aforementioned tracks are in the widget below. Hit. It.
Up.
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