Thursday March 28th 2024

The Grubs – “I.V.”

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The Grubs – “I.V.”

 

I really like The Grubs. I reviewed one of their earlier “releases” or, as I like to call them “discharges.”

They’re much like Rictus Grin- fun and punk and drunk or at least they sound that way.

Hell, they may all be gay and sober, for all I know. But I think the only major difference between them and Rictus Grin, the later composed of gay members, is that The Grubs do not have a major political party calling for them to be burned at the stake.

And we can all rest at ease when members of The Grubs move towards the bathrooms. For one of their “releases” or “discharges.” With Rictus Grin we gotta keep one sharp eye on those ones.

But this is not a discourse on the social elements of 21st century American bathroom mores, nor is it a comparison of the relative artistic merits of The Grubs in comparison with Rictus Grin.

What this is, is a review of a Haverhill punk band, that may play with a lack of finese but no lack of fun, that is high energy punk, real and vibrant and stuffed down your gullet filled with energy, excitement and so many expletives galore-

That only an old sourpuss, like Ted Cruz, might not enjoy listening to them. That is, unless he was burning Rictus Grin at the stake, at the same time.

So as you see, The Grubs are a really great band.

You say, my logic is faulty at best? You don’t get the thread of my treatise?

Well, let us say we give these songs a listen and hopefully, put this debate to rest.

With a guitar swirling like the sharp pointed objects in an old rusty blender, “We’re Old” a song, with the same title of a song that Andy and I should of wrote twenty years ago, leads off this discharge. A vocal, sounding much like an early English punk band, springs forth. “We’re wooh, wooh, wa-wooh, wooh, old!” The energy is busting all over, the vocal is extremely emphatic, a dissonant guitar answers for all with a knife like lick. This is a truly kick-ass song and at one point the guitar goes spiraling up like an over-caffeniated cyclone. You’re only as old as you feel and I feel this songs pulses and bursts with energy and emotion and will never grow old.

“Bang Bang Betty/ Get the guns/ Pickin’ them off/ One by one.” This Betty is just a true patriot, taking her God-given right to be a psychotic murderer or a porn star. This is another song where the ryhtm section refuses to take their seats or acknowledge the meaning of restraint. Some guitar leads pops up like a Frankenstein mix of East Bay Ray and Johnny Thunders (and is awesome). Then this song just bangs wildly away in a blaze of speed and passion.

“DTF” which stands for “down to fuck” not “dicks that fart,” has a choppin’, garage rock intro and a bluesy twang to the vocals that recall to me some prime cut Iggy & The Stooges. “You’re psycho, psycho/ Kind of make me sick/ I’m down to fuck, down to fuck, down to fuck, down to fuck.” This is one burning, churning, momma-fornicator of a song. “I try to leave but you won’t let me go.” Even if you’re not down to fuck, like myself, you should still be up and get it up for this great fucking song. Best one on this EP.

After four scrapes across a George Forman grill, “Grallator” comes charging in with a rhythm that wants to demolish and guitars that want to destroy. This song seems to be about the succesor to Skeletor who I know nothing about. A nice four note guitar solo erupts in the middle, combining the best elements of Jimi Hendrix and Eddie Van Halen, stripped down. I may not know to much about super heroes like Skeletor, but I would bet on this song to save the day.

So, now that things have calmed down a bit. I feel it’s a more appropriate time to address The Grubs and what they stand for.

I’d say it’s feeling over skill, action over mediation, passion and guts over perfection, and your hair pulled back as you vomit into the toilet bowl.

I really like The Grubs. I reviewed one of their earlier releases-

But what I really would like to call them is- cannonballs full of spirit and grit, rocketships exploding with joy and madness, microbursts of energy and passion that expouses fun and realness- dropped off at the doorstep of your eardrums for no extra charge.

And that all brings us back to this savory, audio platter in front of us. For all of us to enjoy and partake in thoroughly.

(You do know what “grub” means?)

Dig in.

(Slimedog)

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