DC is Doomed

Sorry to say, this isn't a post about a staggering group of burn outs letting minor chords reverberate long enough to grow beards, as exciting as that would also be. No, the title is a song title from a band to be mentioned below. What this is really about is how, (besides that truth that music is doomed in DC), last weekend was one of those rare occasions where there were, quite literally, worthwhile bands playing every night. The ante has been upped for this being a video blog, but, none the less, every piece will be curated.

Thursday night was truly a miracle of dark gods' first degree. After four albums, ten years, and what seems like an eternity away from the east coast, SF based, seminal USBM band, Ludicra, randomly played at DC9. Though I'll have to say, for such a monumental event, even I had to find out while randomly skimming through a midwest metal blog. Fortunately, that did indeed happen, and I was right up front to hear the frost tainted onslaught. If you aren't aware of this band, check out their website here.

Ludicra playing at DC9, in DC from Denman C Anderson on Vimeo.

I was still reeling from the previous nights warfare, when I decided to try to catch Magrudergring and Assholeparade after work.

Being one of the original wave of powerviolence bands, not to mention being a group having anything to with heavy music coming from FloriDeicide, Assholeparade carry quite the mantle of brutality. I'd seen them several years ago when they were touring for their new album, so I knew I was in for a rager. One (of many) of the positive aspects of the DIY scene is that, in many circumstances, it prevents bands from hiding behind any pretense. You are going to have to know what you are doing when faced with a bare room, no stage, full office lighting, a half-working, sub-par PA, and no line of demarcation between you and the crowd. Quite simply, if you are not the real thing, you will tank like a flying-device, pre-Wright brothers. Fortunately, Assholeparade did not have this problem, as they tore through a twenty minute blitz krieg. Another positive thing about this type of show is that the kids aren't afraid to get active, and, as long as they aren't being assholes, I say the more the merrier. You don't even have to look very closely to see where that had an impact on the integrity of filming.

Assholeparade playing in DC from Denman C Anderson on Vimeo.

They were quickly followed up by hometown heroes Magrudergrind. This is a band I can't really say enough good things about. I've known them almost the entire time I've lived in DC, though they pre-date that. I've been down front and center more times than I could even try to count, and I can scarcely name a more energetic and sincere band. Plus, oh well, it should be said, they fucking rip. Every new release could strip the paint off of buildings. They do in fact have a new album out, and you can check it out on their myspace profile.
(Plus, there is no way I could ever say anything bad about a band who's brought Unholy Grave to the US (TWICE!))

Magrudergrind playing in DC from Denman C Anderson on Vimeo.

If those shows combined weren't enough to dig my grave, Saturday night's most certainly brought the shovel. It is always irritating when people discuss, X city's best kept secret band, who, look out world, is on the rise. But let me wear the hat of that asshole for just a moment. As much as it saddens me to think about, without trying to intentionally, DC's The Shirks (that mystery band I mentioned at the beginning) are certainly going to go somewhere, because, dammit, they just rock so hard. In the most arms folded, stare straight city in America, only The Shirks could induce a pit simply by playing rowdy garage punk. I'm sure it did not hurt that they've been out of commission for quite a while due to a sports injury (guitar karate, I believe). They have two 7's out, and everyone should, by all means, pick them up here.

The Shirks playing at the Velvet Lounge in DC from Denman C Anderson on Vimeo.

Sunday was a day spent best brunching late in the afternoon, with a copy of the New Yorker. And, though being beaten by a gang of tiny soap-socked elves is a strong situation to recover from, I wish I could do it more often.......

Until the next round.