Trash Talk
Awake EP

S. and I are outside the venue. What happens inside is none of our business. There's a generation gap between him and me. Between these possibilities, you could write two letters. HC. And they are what bring us together, the differences that set us apart are that there is a Black Flag patch on his jacket, and I'm wearing a Converge t-shirt. We don't care about the rest. And we talk about these two letters. Until I think about the common point between his patch and my t-shirt. I open the car, put a CD in the stereo, and ask him if he's busy for the next 9 minutes. He lights a cigarette.

Trash Talk is today what it was yesterday covered by a lot more blood, blood clotted over the years.

"Awake" is the alarm that has always been ringing and now demands its due attention. Tupa tututupa turururupa and then a baton blow to the skull, the words come out in exhausting lashes of rusted metal that are corrosive, it's fuck-off powerviolence that nails nerves to the wall, the guitars are swollen with hate.

S. smokes smiling, he thinks back to the two letters, "Slander" is a broadside, this song is a wild shard, the '80s are boiling oil of rage.

Do you remember the Dead Kennedys? He remembers them when "Blind Evolution" starts, he remembers them during the insane hc'n'roll guitar piece that repeats under the whole song and the words speak of today, of this moment, of Occupy whatever: "your revolution's already lost!", it's true, it's too true, we feel the defeat in our mouths.

And the punk of the right decade, the real one, takes the indefinable and fucked-up thrash by the hand for "Burn Alive" which hits the gums.

And in the end, the request for "Gimme Death" is granted, the heaviness is that of molten lead, the guitars are increasingly sonic barrages rather than instruments, and the entombed-like rhythm is something that S. and I cannot overlook.

I turn off the car stereo. It's a shitty evening. But the cold, somehow, we like. The band has stopped playing. We reenter to the notes of "Die Die My Darling" and the bartender smiles at us. HC.