Chris Smith is a sometimes-contributor to Stylus Magazine, but not nearly often enough for management’s tastes.

Final Exam, MUSC 3090: “Ethnomusicological Perspectives in Contemporary
Anti-Hegemonic Discourse: International Hardcore”

Well, class, it’s been a great semester and I want you all to know I enjoyed teaching our little seminar as much as you enjoyed coming to class. I’ll never forget our field trip to the DSB show at ABC No Rio, as well as our stimulating and contentious in-class discussions on the Marxist/New Leftist implications of colored vinyl. Choose one of the following essay questions and answer it to the best of your ability after downloading the song (no plagiarism from back issues of MRR, please!). Please use Times New Roman, font size 12, double-spacing. You can slip the completed final under my office door, but I will warn you that the toilet is leaky and has destroyed papers in the past. Perhaps it would be best to visit me at my usual office hours held at the Philadelphia Record Exchange, second floor, or the kosher vegan Chinese place next door. Thanks, and happy holidays!

G.I.S.M.� Endless Blockades for the Pussyfooter, [Detestation]

We have here a mid-eighties nugget of Japanese thrash that veers into the low-budget trash psychedelia vein also mined by guitar-effects-happy oddballs like Confuse. Consider its status as a warped reconstruction of the western slag-metal (itself a reconstruction haunted by ’70s hard rock) of later Black Flag. What do you think of the implications of its Maiden-esque dueling lead guitars, given the degree to which they dominated the band’s later work? Is this an earnest homage or a parodic commentary on the degree to which Japan (cf. Gauze’s lyrics “Distort to Japan”: “Good at war / Good at losing war!”) is perceived by the West as copyists of our pop-culture, our exported top-ten glam metal? For that matter, do you see Sakevi’s grunted, deranged English vocals as imitative of the Rollins/Negative Approach school of male angst or their own unique construction? What would Walter Benjamin make of the seemingly off-the-cuff remarks that periodically appear in the vocal performance, akin to an artist’s foregrounding of the visual text as palimpsest?

[visit an unofficial website here, buy G.I.S.M. stuff here]

Anti-Cimex� Victims of a Bomb Raid, [Made in Sweden]

Recall our earlier unit on thrash and D-Beat, the school of anti-war peace punk that dominated the early eighties and is currently again quite chic in hardcore thrash-revivalist circles who felt alienated once emo dominated the marketplace after the demise of power-violence. D-Beat’s musical blueprint is found in the galloping doop-chick-doop-dap beats of Discharge and Motorhead, and Anti-Cimex’s Swedish take on the “Realities of War” formula is no exception. But consider the way they have built on the foundation of the brisk percussive crush and brash lyrical depictions of charred remains: what does the queasy yet triumphant chord progression say to you, as a listener? What commentary is offered here on the political responsibility of the artist and its output qua the gold standard of art? Is the uplifting yet crushing musical attack depicted here altogether appropriate to its subject matter? Is some ambivalence on display here or is imperialist violence as endless artistic font being celebrated in a similar manner to what Terry Eagleton would say about postmodernism’s stance on hydrahead capitalism? How do you feel about these comments in light of a statement from our next band’s leader, Martin of Los Crudos, that moshing insults oppressed Third World peoples who do not have the privilege to do so? (To say nothing of its response, that the moshers are doing it in their honor?)

[get some more information here, buy Anti-Cimex stuff here]

Los Crudos� 500 Anos, [Discografia]

You may choose a topic of your liking to respond to this song; think of this as the “free writing” option. Please, though, avoid reference to personal experiences as the white object of “reverse descrimination [sic],” your ultimate disgust with the Kerry campaign, your love of music since birth, this 1992 track’s status as celebration of America’s discovery (I think its meaning is obvious to us all, less of which could be said of other songs on this band’s 72-track discography cassette), your inability to understand the language the lyrics are spoken in, and, most importantly of all, to Jimi Hendrix’s recontextualization of the national anthem in discussing this slice of thrash, which bears, in my mind, more of a direct relationship to the skull-cracking assault of early Born Against, before they got entangled in their own self-destructive ambivalence of belief. For additional reference that may prove helpful, see Los Crudos’ Mexican tour diary, “Error” 102, 1995.

[read an interview with the band here, buy Los Crudos stuff here]