Like any other extreme music genre, grind has a bevy of prefixes that nine times out of ten give the listener an expectation of roughly what a band will sound like. I try not to rely too much on them because I usually find the one band out of ten…
Since I started writing Grind My Gears, I’ve always focused on one project or band at a time. This has given me free reign to spew curse words and horrible imagery by the bucket load and I am inherently grateful to the editors and staff here for allowing me this. However, I feel like this column can step up its game. The other regular features on Heavy Blog are a cut above and such, from here on out, myself and whichever poor bastard I rope into helping me will try to match those standards. We’ll look at fresh grind compilations and releases, love letters to classic grind records and interviews and conversations with some of the cream of the modern crop. Maybe more, maybe less, I guess we’ll play it by ear (because it’s grind). Without further fanfare, please welcome your own damn self to Grind My Gears 2.0.
Summer is nearly wrapped up over here so it’s time to get right back into the miserable weather, miserable conversation and general misery of being in a Northern part of the world. Fuck the tanned people and their day drinking, fuck the sweaty patch on the small of your back, fuck the tourists who stop walking every two seconds on the street. It’s high time for the grey, grim and gruesome to rear it’s resentful head. This weeks entry into Grind My Gears might just be the most obtuse and vehemently bleak thing you’ll hear the rest of this summer. I love that I get to write this next bit. Get Fucked.
Firstly, by the time I actually came across this next entry into the Hall of Grind and decided to write about them, they released two more batches of hot shit, toxic grind. If this wasn’t a sign from the Holy Grindfather then I’m a two-tone ska fiend. Throat Breach are every single bit as unpleasant sounding as their moniker but in just over a year have consistently released music as and when they feel like it. Presents for everyone indeed. Over the course of sixteen releases this Midwest branch of the Terror Squad have found a sound worth killing for. In like, twelve months. How many releases did you put out the last twelve months?
I’ve sat on this release for a few months now, biding my time before finally deciding to share it with my dedicated Grinders. I’m taking ownership of you all because I feel responsible for your lives, in the most minute of ways; my suggestions/turns of phrase could save or ruin your day after all! The Arson Project are responsible for taking my life in a new, positive direction in their own unique way, so maybe my ranting and raving about them can do the same for you. This weeks grind entrée is significantly more punk than you might be used to, but don’t let that spook ya. These Swedes get politically charged, pissed off and drop enough hardcore goings on to keep the push pit poppin’.
The best music comes from people who have something to say. A lot of the time, the things that these musicians want to say aren’t easily digestible. The whole “tortured artist” cliché exists for a reason after all; art in its purest form is the expression of emotion and the most prevalent emotions in the world’s best art are misery, melancholy and malevolence. This is a bit more high brow than a regular introduction to Grind My Gears, I know, but this week’s artist performs with a fervor and ferocity that draws from the most vile of mistreatment. The subject matter of mothmother’s devastating debut \ˈpe-sə-ˌmi-zəm\ isn’t light, so be warned.
Look at any poster for a good grind show and it usually tells you exactly what you’re getting from the night in question. Often literally telling you exactly who the band is because you can’t read their logo, where they’re from and which particular flask of filth they sip from. Madrid’s Teething don’t have one of those unreadable logos and they’re marked down as simply “HM-2 grindcore”. Doing exactly that, these Spaniards have entered the world of full length grind releases with a record so typically HM-2 that it goes full circle into being fresh again. Pull up a seat and unfuck your earholes in preparation for some violent Spanish storytelling.
Fans of my entries to the Grind My Gears franchise (it’s a franchise now; deal with it) will recognise the name Dark Habits and should be instantly brought back to memories of harsh, devastating bursts of hyper violence and crust. The best kind of noise around. They’ve barely scratched the surface of the Earth with their very recently released debut but look set to tunnel right through the crust of the planet itself. It’s only fitting that Heavy Blog debuts the brand new video from these Glaswegian d-beat bastards because it’s heavy, it’s grim and it’s sweaty as fuck; I speak for myself when I admit that I’m definitely a great example of the latter.
This edition of Grind My Gears belongs to an upcoming compilation with a more than deliberate message. A glance at the artwork should give you a clue as to what that message is. Some publications and blogs keep their cards pretty close to their chest when it comes to the burning issue of the day. We don’t. That’s why I’m using my space here to help promote an upcoming compilation from newly founded label Posers Inc. Grind Against Trump won’t solve any of these issues overnight but it’s a start. This compilation of grind, violence and ‘core stands for something when most are content with simply sitting and playing the voyeur. Organiser and label founder Benjamin James took some time out from his day to day life to answer a few questions about the compilation, who it will benefit and why it is a necessary step.
From the beginning grindcore and d-beat crust had a bond that seemed almost unbreakable. It was a beautiful bond, an everlasting one. A bond of the most steadfast kind, one built on a common devotion to total sonic assault presented always at breakneck speeds. Soon, however, this bond developed into something more. It developed into the two genres bleeding into each other, feeding off of each other, and birthing a generation of grind acts infused with heavily d-beat tendencies. And, eventually, these two styles bleeding together would lead to the birth of a new grind act, coming from New Jersey, known as Death Vacation, the crust/grind act hell bent on total sonic destruction.