Friday March 29th 2024

Injury – “Injury”

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Injury – “Injury”

 

Injury, Definition: an instance of being injured, the fact of being injured or the possible injury to the feelings of others.

I’m going with that last part for my definition of this band, a band that doesn’t go out of its way to be disrespectful or disruptive but does go in a way to be truthful, honest and raw.

And those who expect life to consist of simply, quiet platitudes or eyes darting to look away.  Or compliance and acceptance of a norm that is not only absurd but refuses to acknowledge its’ inherent cruelty and viciousness- are the ones who won’t get Injury but may be injured instead.

“Hey, man. This is just a punk rock band.”

But that’s what punk is, stripping away the veneer, exposing the lies. And some of the lyrics here are truly sharp and hard.

Injury, the band- My definition: A band influenced by The Ramones, The Misfits, maybe The Cramps as well. With a heavy surf wave crashing down upon them. And you can call them pop/punk, garage/punk, surf/punk if you must.

I call them energetic, real, honest fun music that’ll rip a hole in your eardrums and possibly your heart- that is, if the blood in there is still flowing.

Mine is and it’s boiling so let’s listen without any further adieu.

“Here’s a tale of death and such/ The night we drank a little too much.” Sounds great but if this was my song it would entitled “My Life.” This is a chainsaw guitar slicing slaughter house that recalls The Jesus & Mary Chain as much as The Ramones, at least to me. “Sally lost her pretty face and Audrey died just after she whispered something.” This is intense and gothic as The Misfits and energized and irreverent as The Ramones. “Crushed cars and heads, broken arms and legs and I got her last words ingrained inside my head/ See you in hell.” The song isn’t hell more like closer to paradise, I think. There’s twanging surf guitar, velocity in rhythm, sounds bouncing off the sides of your head. This song rips and hits hard enough to damn you to hell- but actually deposits you in heaven.

After some screeching feedback “Home Stretch” explodes with some words and volume. “Skating home all alone/ Once again Daley got me too stoned.” This is distorting vocals against a slammin’ hardcore rhythm that quickly changes to a groovy metal like doom-y minor key passage. “The woods tonight look so fuckin’ scary/ I know I shouldn’t have watched that Gacy documentary.” As the music ignites, the vocals become intense and overblown while the instruments collide and bounce off each other just to keep pace. But, “It’s alright/ I’m  just high.” And it’s alright that this is just a funny song with great music- no need to be paranoid.

“Girl Gang” starts with a groovin’ garage riff grabbing you by the ears and throttling you for attention. “Killer dames that conjured South of Heaven/ Now Connie has a AK-47 on her way.” This song alludes to an old quaint sixties beach movie theme song “Where The Boys Are.” That are , seriously, some of my favorite movies to watch. And also alludes, with South Of Heaven, to a Slayer album title but also, I’m hoping to a book by pulp writer Jim Thompson (who just might be my favorite writer). After some grinding, hard-hitting chords and vocals that answer each other in some kind of great, smash up of The Ramones and glam rock- the channel is changed!

Then there’s a surf beat, echo-y guitar and I picture myself dancing on a beach with Frankie Avalon and Annette Funicello- around a bonfire as bongos are played along with unplugged electric guitars. Then our hair catches on fire, due from a toxic waste explosion, and we run into the ocean as the closing film credits role.

Injury is a great Boston punk band that isn’t creating anything that is uniquely new; but it is creating something that fun and of value, that is exciting and true.

I feel they’re a part of the new bands I’m finding that are embracing punk instead of hardcore and succeeding even if it’s not perfect.

Because whatever punk was/is was never perfect. Whatever punk was/is was never something that added up, lined up, collated. Fit in, signed up, calculated and downloaded. Or configured neatly into society’s neatly drawn lines.

Because if your vision of music is something “perfect” then instead of following TNB, I suggest you explore the world of cyber genetic robots, and let your life be guided by computers, let your thoughts be dictated by some city planners vision instead of your soul.

Me, I’ll just sit here sipping on my Jagermeister (one of this bands “influences)” and skate on home.

(Slimedog)

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