By Jacob Katel
By Laurie Charles
By Nate "Igor" Smith
By Abel Folgar
By Kat Bein
By Jacob Katel
If you're reading this article, it's either because (1) you're shocked that any mainstream press is going to a show like this one, (2) you actually have no idea what Murphy's Law and 25 ta Life are, or (3) you're homeless and bored. Chances are, if you fall into the first category, you're already going to see this mind-meld of old-school hardcore punk acts. If you fall into the second category but actually claim to be into punk rock, well ... then there is no amount of information that could feasibly be presented in this article that could fill the gap between your ears. So: Attention, all homeless people! Gather your money and walk to Churchill's and Studio A for what will likely be two of the rowdiest, sing-along-est shows to grace Miami stages this year.
Murphy's Law — one of the first New York City hardcore punk rock acts to break out of that regional scene — is led by the Astoria, Queens-bred Jimmy Gestapo, the group's cartoonishly tattooed singer (and only remaining original member). The band's songs blend a lovely mix of streetwise tales bolstered by a firm love of marijuana, chanted and sung over crunchy, loud guitars; pounding bass; and machine-gun drums. These guys, who are known to perform under all kinds of adverse conditions, while also being extremely inebriated, actually had to cancel their European tour this summer. (Rumor has it that their guitar player was actually too wasted to do what he had to do.) Now with a firm and committed lineup, they return to Miami to play a day after their Jersey friends, 25 ta Life, perform.
The guys in 25 ta Life heard the songs and sounds of NYC punk in the Eighties come drifting across the Hudson and then did what every snot-nosed, tough-guy punk rock fan did. They started a band (in 1992) and went on the road. Only thing is, they never got off tour — famously they're one of the most ubiquitous live acts in hardcore. Now they're back. If you didn't know, 25 ta Life shows inevitably takes over a corner of the club with a swap shop of on-the-road punk distribution: CDs, DVDs, and T-shirts deck the tables. Everything is for sale and for trade — just talk to the white guy from New Jersey with the really long dreads; his name is Rick, and he's the band's singer.
Bring money, energy, and a Miami Heat jersey to this show, and you will not be disappointed.