OUT – ‘OMS’
Out is the opposite of in.
“In” is supposed to be good, but what’s “in” is accepted and usually, turns out to be the lamest thing possible. Better to be “out” now and be “in” several decades in the future.
Punk wasn’t in until the mid-nineties, a couple of decades past its birth and then it was only “in” for a short time before being asked to leave the building before the police arrived.
To be in is to be with people with small imaginations, small brains, small intestines and small genitalia (not to do so much with size, but more, lacking of balls).
So these guys Out were Red Tape- a punk/hardcore trio from Western Mass. Perhaps they changed their named because of the other 27 Red Tape bands that pop up when you Google that name, I’m not sure.
But they have changed their style- more abrasive with more elaborate arrangements as well. And they describe themselves as powerviolence/punk/hardcore which sounds about right to me. There’s lots of social/political commentary along with brutal, hard hitting sounds.
And it sounds pretty great to me however you categorize it and better in all ways than Red Tape- though they were pretty sweet, too.
Let’s press the play button and listen:
This album starts off with the song “Oms” and clocks in at a surprising 21 minutes and 21 seconds. It’s a very good song though I might have cut it at the ten minute mark or so.
It reminds me of the early days of prog rock where having a song this length was almost a pre-requisite. But this is much better than those tunes. First, lyrically, instead of being about unicorns urinating on Uranus or something equally cosmic- this is a tune about corporate life wasting the utilities of the earth for profit, now, and to hell with the future we leave for the young.
And it’s concise, not at all self-indulgent (no solos) though they’re might be a backwards sax solo in there, and it made me think of good bands like King Crimson and Sonic Youth. But somehow with all the dire predictions, when they mention “no LSD in your cheerios” that disturbed me the most. Chalk this up to a great song to expand your attention span.
“What is it like to be happy all the time?/ What is it like to never think about a goddamn thing?” is how “Nocturnal Depression” starts out- it’s a driving punk number that recalls early English punk bands with it’s melodic rant and drivin’ rock’n’roll beat. “I’m not faking negativity./I’m not putting on a show for popularity/ Wish I could shrug it all off when my head hits the pillow each night.” I’m not faking positiv-ity when I say this is a fuckin’ great song.
With a hit on the first beat and feedback framing the lines, “Fight Back” comes out with a punch to set you staggering. “Don’t need your fuckin’ rich man advice/ Paying off while you’re naming your price/ It’s hard enough with your eyes down my back/ I don’t need you.” The chorus is a contagious one-two punch that will set you reelin’ into the ropes praying for a musical TKO or knockout. This song should win by unanimous decision.
“Flaggers” starts out with a loping blues-y lick upon a swinging beat accented by some hard musical hits nicely. But soon a high-ringing guitar lick signaling panic and alarm while surrounded by feedback, ushers us wildly into the next hardcore phase. This song is a mad, headlong rush with a lyric against blind patriotism. “An island of big heads/ Self-centered blind rednecks/ No knowledge of foreign land/ Pure bred American.” There’s a return to the intro which turns out to be the outro and turns out to be a pretty, great Out song.
Never be “in” always stay out. Think outside the boxes. Think outside the parameters of society and the ones the old fucks set for you. Boundaries are only in your mind, boundaries are set for you to push past them. If you’re true enough and brave enough to do so.
I’m to old to be “in” but Out’s a pretty young band so their destiny is in their capable hands and I think they’ll do quite well, if this album is any indication.
If I were you, I would follow Out, out to where they might take you, where they may be heading. I think it’s a place, musically, you want to be in.
(Slimedog)
