Thank God the Shitty Limits played last night. They were the only band on the bill at Love Garden that had any sort of exuberance going on. Perhaps it was the fact that they're touring the United States, perhaps it's the fact that their blend of garage and snotty punk tends to perk me up, but it seemed that the Limits were the odd band out.
By the time the Shitty Limits stepped up to their instruments (as there's no stage on which to step at Love Garden), I was ready for a band that wasn't so fucking bleak as the openers, Logic Problem and Dark Ages. I'm not saying every band in the world needs to be happy -- no, no. Far from it, actually. But when the Shitty Limits were playing, the floor was literally bouncing along with the crowd. People were smiling. They were happy to see the Limits.
I like the Shitty Limits because both in person and on record, they sound an awful lot like the early stuff from the Explosion. It's a tenuously tied-together sound, where the instruments power along with snotty vocals dropped on top, all the while mere seconds from a possible collapse. You can sing along, too. It's powerful, and their lead singer flails around like his microphone is a broadsword, ready to cut down anyone who dares get in his way.
Both Logic Problem and Dark Ages had a similar stage presence. There's no denying all the bands were dynamic, but the Shitty Limits had a certain thing that made them stand out in the field of three. Maybe it's the fact that I'm not a fan of that brand of hardcore where the lyrics are spit out in a torrent, with no regard to the beat or rhythm behind them.
Dark Ages have never really grabbed my ears the way other bands like Sucked Dry have. Dark Ages' guitarist Ben does some interesting work, throwing in elements of noise rock, but past that, both bands were otherwise incessantly downbeat. It felt like getting smacked in the face with punk for two 30-minute sets. Logic Problem and Dark Ages were good punk bands, but when you put them with the Shitty Limits, who are a band that manages to tweak the borders of what punk is (at one point dropping spoken word over the music like an Art Brut song), then you begin to see limitations, making those glimpses of noise-rock that much more upsetting, because you know they could go further.
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it is entirely possible, you realize, that the shitty limits were shitty when they played, as in, fueled by american beer. it's perfectly legal to drink in a moving vehicle in the UK and they weren't about to let pesky american rules get in the way of a homeland tradition.
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