It's a funny old fella, hardcore punk....
It’s a funny old fella, hardcore punk. Despite its evolution into greater things, it always manages to retain the gung-ho diehards who refuse to bow to the pressures of progress. Tunes, harmonies, experimentalism: mere expletives to be washed out with soap as far as NYC’s [a]Sick Of It All[/a] are concerned. And ‘Call To Arms’ (woargh!) – much like last year’s ‘Built To Last’ (WOARGH!) – is hardcore like your mother used to hate before wusses like Fugazi got a hold of it and turned it into something vaguely beautiful.
SOIA live in a world where the common denominator rules hard, fast and true. Nothing here hints at sluggishness, effeminacy or ambiguity. They are a band of men’s men who display their humanitarian status and all-for-one sentiments but won’t be caught dead singing about them with any sign of weakness. Or even singing at all for that matter. Frontman Lou Koller opts instead to abuse his larynx in such a way that you empathically suspect that it is in fact [I]your [/I]throat that’s full of phlegm.
Despite the fact that there are zillions of Stateside punks who angstily hammer the fuck out of anything in the name of sonic aggression, something actually quite spiritual happens when it’s done with some of the Sick‘s notable vim. Hard to believe, sure, but you had to be there.