Straight out of the fields and rolling hills of Carroll County, Maryland lies the dirty and uncapped powerviolence paraphernalia that is Dope Needle—a low-fi, high blasting, classic sounding powerviolence that mainlines an IV of PV directly into your ear holes. The band's side of this split consists of three and a half minutes of noisy Spazz worship nestled in-between chill hip-hop sampled clips from artist such as Necro, DKKAY, and HEEZ140. A very common treatment for modern powerviolence bands and despite the numerous powerviolence clichés, Dope Needle are pushing some primo blast.
Vocally, Dope Needle check all the boxes—manic phlegm tinged screeches flanked by those telltale inhaled caveman bawls that are so indicative of the genre, fired off at a breathless pace. They have a nice intensity to them and are frankly better than they have to be.
And speaking of intensity, the drumming is a constant barrage of blast beats, D-beats and a hop-skip-and-jump style of breakdown trudges. It's subtle, yet fully capable. The quick on/off transition between simplistic slow crashes and blast beats is exact. Fortunately, the band's preferred tempo is that of the high speed. I always appreciate powerviolence bands that prioritize the speed over the slow trudges.
Carrying the same tempo structure as the drums is the guitar. The downtuned hardcore punk riffs are careening during the faster runs and take on more of a darker, metallic tone during the slower breaks. As a listener, you might take the presence of a guitar as a given, yet this won't necessarily be the case throughout this release.
Probably the harshest critique I can give Dope Needle's side of the split is the production. The sound quality is unquestionably quiet and inconsistent. It's almost like the album was recorded off of a TV set on to a boom box tape deck or a band practice recorded onto a Home Alone 2 Tiger Talkboy (assuming that I'm not the only one who did that.) Not only that, it sounds like there a three different production levels within their three and a half minutes. All of which vary in volume and sound. The audio samples are louder than he actual songs. It's a very curious mix that within the realm of this noisy and rambunctious split isn't too abnormal, but I feel the band might be selling themselves a tad short. Given their other releases, I believe that this is probably very much intentional. Maybe, maybe not.
Things did clean up markedly on the band's most recent release, a split cassette with VIBExCHECK in 2021. But even still, there is a noticeable production shift midway through their side of the tape. It's almost like there's a substantial time gap between studio recorded tracks or there is an inclusion of live tracks. I feel like a more uniformed and even keeled production mix could have put Dope Needle in to a higher bracket of contemporary powerviolence bands. There's no reason that their trap beat spotted brand of intravenous-violence couldn't have been given the 625 Thrashcore/To Live A Lie Records treatment. Many other bands have done well at straddling the bridge between stripped-down noisy powerviolence and successful popularity.
Chromatic Bastards... How to explain Chromatic Bastards? Their almost three minutes of harsh noise-grind yowling is definitely a memorable experience. I'm not up to speed on the grading system of noise and noise-core, but this is probably some of the more identifiable as belonging in the powerviolence and grind realm of classification. The band's three tracks consist primarily of distorted audio samples and feedback from massive microphone clipping. Don't mistake it as some highbrow Merzbow collaboration where there's noise breaks in-between standard powerviolence tracks. No, this is more closely akin to Insect Warfare's self-titled album of drums and vocals over static noise. Chromatic Bastards' side is a powerviolence version of that, yet digitally fried—blown out, overexposed and seared in a static fire.
Now, when I say "drums," I don't mean drums presented in the traditional sense. You can't hear the actual physical impact of the drum heads so much as the staticky peaking of the sound of blast beats, if that makes any sense. The rising and falling of binary strobing electrical crashing that is in the place of the snare and cymbals. It's harsh and hairy, but gets the job done. Visualize a snare full of metal washers run through a ProCo pedal and EQ'd to shit in Pro Tools.
Likewise, the vocals are equally hot, equally marred. The feedback from the vocals is what is seemingly constituting as the "music" on the tracks. They are screaming rings that bleat out from time to time amongst the vocals and fuzzed out drums. But the vocals themselves are what I feel will probably be the main talking points of the band.
With no disrespect intended, when I first heard Chromatic Bastards' vocals I immediately thought of the Disney character Goofy when he falls off a cliff or crashes through a floor. The band's vocals are not your typical screams or deep yells, but wild whoops. Whether there are lyrics involved or not is the least of my concerns. The whooping yelps are an acquired taste that I'm not totally mad at. They can go either of two ways for the band—listeners will either find it laughable or a little disturbing. Much like when you hear actual screams of panic somewhere out in a public space; just out of sight and with a chill that silences the crowd. The vocals are definitely primal and trill. Somewhere between Goofy and Leatherface. Wait, I narrowed it down! They sound exactly like the tortured screams from Judge Doom in the movie, Who Framed Roger Rabbit when he was slowly being steamrolled flat.
According to the band themselves, these tracks were improvised songs recorded during microphone tests without their guitarist during a studio session for a separate split release with another band. This makes a lot of sense considering future Chromatic Bastards releases are just as corroded, yet have more audible drums, obvious guitar and vocals more in keeping with what you'd imagine from a noisy powerviolence band. Meaning the band may have abandon their more staunch leanings into the avant-garde of noise. But it looks like they got two releases out of this impromptu session, this and the EP, The Occult Roots of Surrealism. It appears that the original intended split was scrapped.
This split, I believe, came out in a cassette tape physical format in what looks like 2023 on Autumn Sounds—a experimental label out of Pittsburgh. Yet, the actual session recordings go back to 2019. Information on many particular details of the release here are a tad spotty, especially on Dope Needle's side. The interweaving of the sampled audio and the band's tracks gives the feeling that their side of the tape is just one cohesive song. If you find any of Dope Needle's music digitally, that's exactly how it will come. I also found different cover art on each website I visited, so there's a lot that I can't corroborate with this release. Although, in true underground punk and powerviolence fashion, these are all part of the charm.
Each side of this split gives the listener opposing extremes of the powerviolence experimental scale—the more traditional and the more primeval. This split is a blown out, lo-fi, mixed down, fuck you to the overly polished records of the genre. It's also a great peek into what's happening in the avant-garde scene. It's for those who like it raw and unpalatable—and kind of weird.
FFO: Holy Grinder, Internal, Spazz, Sissy Spacek, Suffering Brings Wisdom
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