Photo credit: Amelia
Last night I went to The Bank— pretty much my favorite place to see bands play in Baltimore— to see a bunch of harsh noise bands I’d never seen before. I experienced a wide range of feelings at this show, so I thought I might come home and try to compose a few haikus about each band I saw. However, in the spirit of harsh noise, I am pretty much ignoring the syllable rules that make haikus haikus.
Dude’s shirt is off quick,
but those pudge layers look warm.
whoa, an ARP Odyssey!
hmm, Tomita riffs are not here.
it sounds like a giant blowing in a microphone.
I wonder what that huge sampler is for?
A Boss loop pedal, as well!
The red one, that stores loops in memory—-
all of this to make a big wind noise?
Good thing his bro is along.
Smashing the cymbal with contact mic and chain.
Roby turns, “Breaking instruments will never get old.”
Big Dude screams: “The truth!
The truth is the only (something something)
your fucking face!” Hmm.
It’s not that bad, though,
Smashing-friend got me amped, but all good will is squandered
by the raging sexist outburst later back by the woodstove.
Real tall guy doing full-on
tactless sexual harassment— maybe seems “noise” to him but it’s pathetic
proof you had more to purge during that set.