By Kat Bein
By Shea Serrano
By S. Pajot
By Terrence McCoy
By Falyn Freyman
By Shea Serrano
By Jacob Katel
By Michael E. Miller
With the recent death of CBGB's Hilly Kristal, the legendary visionary who gave stage to greats such as the Ramones and the Dead Boys, perhaps there's no better time to celebrate the old-found glory of punk — even if the gloried old punks gotta come from across the pond to help us celebrate. This Saturday the classic anarcho-punk Subhumans storm the stanchions at Studio A.
Formed way back in 1980 from the ashes of The Mental and Stupid Humans, Subhumans took punk's DIY ethic to task; then they took it to heart, and in one form or another, they've been taking it ever since. And dishing it out. An early demo caught the ear of fellow anarchos Flux of Pink Indians, who invited the band in to record for the newly formed Spiderleg imprint. What followed was a trio of EPs, each as loud and as fast and as angry as a mob.
The big blow, though, came with 1983's The Day the Country Died, a dystopian blast of Orwellian air that turned up the furnace on the fire within. Now considered a punk classic, the LP has 14 songs that clock in at less than three minutes; most time out before two. In other words, it burns.
In 1987 the bandmates called it quits, but reunited 10 years later. There have been a slew of retrospective and live releases since then, and just this month they came through with Internal Riot, their first fully new long-player in forever. It seems the Subhumans are as loud and as fast and angry as they've ever been. Slam in and see how it's done.