Unpleasant Peasants - Pre-Apocalyptic EP

For too long of a time, in my mind, “heavy” music meant low-tuned guitars, crashing breakdowns, and walls of distortion. Drop-A chugs, blast beats, and vicious screams felt not just like hallmarks of heavy music, but requirements. Never on earth would a 22-year-old me have called a mandolin “aggressive” or thought an acoustic guitar could thump notes that hit me like they were pouring out of a Marshall stack. Yet in exploring folk-punk in recent years, I’ve learned a thing or two about how powerful this sound can be, and after listening to Unpleasant Peasant’s Pre-Apocalyptic EP, I am reminded at just how much weight can come from performance and songwriting.

The instrumentation of Pre-Apocalyptic EP is relatively sparse, built only on mandolin, bass, and a washboard. Yet Unpleasant Peasants use their musical weapons to amazing effect, creating a vibrant and vicious sound at speeds I would balk to attempt. The band rakes at their instruments as if trying to scrub blood from their surfaces, rocking progressions that are fast, bombastic, and insanely danceable. Above it all, their collective gang vocals ring powerful and true, a chaotic chorus of disgruntled voices working together as one and building into unstoppable frenzies of energy.

Unpleasant Peasants are just as virulent and hard-hitting with their lyrics. Much of the writing on their Pre-Apocalyptic EP delivers scathing yet eloquent critiques of today’s society. “It’s Just Business” tackles the repetitive, oft-fruitless struggles of trying to survive in the consumer culture that dominates every aspect of life. “Civilization” sharpens this criticism to a point that Unpleasant Peasants use to prod the sleeping awake: “The world is not in your TV / The world is not in your phone / The world’s not inside your head / It’s outside of your home.” Yet perhaps the best and most searing commentary comes from the opening track “The Farmer,” whose protagonist is hell-bent on destroying anything and everything—be it plant, animal, or human—that stands in the way of his profits. Unpleasant Peasants pair intelligent writing with aggressive performances so that each word hits the listener like a K.O. punch.

Unpleasant Peasants are another testament to the true power of folk-punk, proving with their music that substance in songwriting and power in performance can make for some of the heaviest music around. Every song on this EP is rife with powerful screams and heady riffs; that breakdown and coda of “Pre-Apocalyptic” get me just as riled and ready to move as any hardcore band could. This band’s Pre-Apocalyptic EP certainly carries the weight of the world’s end, yet if this record is any indicator, the future will be looking quite bright for these Peasants.

My Top Track: It’s Just Business

You can find more from Unpleasant Peasants, including news and upcoming shows, on Facebook. Then head over to their Bandcamp page to grab your own copy of their Pre-Apocalyptic EP.

Down with Rent - Entitled Millennial Scum

For the disaffected and marginalized sections of our community, the meeting place is not the town hall, but the dive bars and DIY spaces where hardcore and punk shows are happening so regularly. Punk music gives us a collective outlet for our frustrations, as well as a forum for confronting and changing the asinine aspects of our society. In CT, no band is making better use of this platform than Down With Rent, and with their new full-length Entitled Millennial Scum, they’re breaking out the artillery.

Down With Rent is renowned in the local scene for their explosive live shows, and Entitled Millennial Scum perfectly presses that energy and experience to record. The performances are volatile, almost too powerful for the speakers playing them. The drums thunder out beats so fast, I’m out of breath just listening. The guitar rages along aggressive chord progressions, resonant palm mutes, and searing feedback. The bass guitar’s tone alone feels like a kick in the stomach, riding atop thumping lines and growling low notes that boom within my chest cavity. The vocals thrash with throaty screams and fierce shouts, each absolutely vicious word hitting as hard as the guitar or drums.

The sound of Entitled Millennial Scum is pure and unadultered vitriol, but the lyrics are what give it a focused target. Down With Rent is fearless in calling out the hypocrisies that abound in our society. Lines like “Make no mistake / they won’t hesitate / to take everything / and leave you on the pavement to die” call out the indiscriminate greed and selfishness of the powers that be, a heady reminder that anyone playing the game will happily step on you to win it. In a similar vein, “Entitled to Everything” both pokes fun at generational disconnect with the line “Don’t ask me if you owe us a living / We want this planet and everything in it” before pointing out that action is what earns respect, not age. Entitled Millennial Scum is relentless in both energy and substance, a record seething with honest, no-holds-barred critique of the many cracks in the façade of our country.

One of my favorite aspects of Entitled Millennial Scum is how cohesively it flows. Each song rolls right into the next with nary a second wasted, swells of feedback tying the tunes together and driving the momentum of the record forward. Samples of news reports and police confrontations stitched into a couple tracks help reinforce the political tone of the album throughout. Entitled Millennial Scum is truly a record without a single boring moment—front-to-back, it plays with an integrity and energy that keeps my head and heart locked in.

No matter where you stand, Down With Rent’s new record packs serious punch. Every single song is loaded with kickass riffs, heady screams, and the unbridled energy that is this band’s trademark. Entitled Millennial Scum is a feverish punk powerhouse, the sound of a riot breaking out in the streets punctuated by brutal breakdowns and breakneck drumbeats, giving a furious voice to the fears and unrest so many of us live under every day. So put this record on repeat, and crank it up and up until it makes you deaf—you’re entitled to it.

My Top Track: “Can’t Swim”

You can find more from Down With Rent, including upcoming shows and news, on their Facebook page and on Instagram. Then head over to their Bandcamp and grab your own copy of Entitled Millennial Scum.