I've always had a soft spot for hard core. I think it goes back to when I was in grade school. As hormones started raging, Bon Jovi and Whitesnake just weren't cutting the angst anymore. Pantera was an obvious choice. But again, my tastes evolved and Pantera was just too simple. When I found Nirvana I'd thought I'd found, well, nirvana. And into high school it was Ministry, Helmet, and the heavier side of grunge. I remember nights sfter theatre rehearsal Justin, Josh, and I would sneak cigarettes in the parking lot while trying to determine who was better at headbanging. To this day, I believe those evenings did more brain damage than all the college keggers put together.
Today, the musical genres of "hard" number into the ridiculous: heavy metal, death metal, puff metal, grindcore, thrashcore, mathcore, growlcore, screamo, punk rock, noice rock, Scandinavian costume rock. I'm not making this up (well, I made one of them up, but it's not the one you think). The Blood Brothers fit somewhere between grindcore and punk.
And before you say, "dude, they broke up like ages ago," let me point you to the title of this blog. Does it say "Pitchfork"? Exactly. It says "Duck and Cover Music." We get more readers in a month than Pitchfork gets in a minute . . . but barely. Anyway, we like our readers more than Pitchfork likes theirs. And we know each and every one of you by name.
So go on out there, um, Barnaby. And download yourself some Blood Brothers. Oh, and pick up a sixer of PBR, too. The office fridge is running low. Or it would be running low if we had an office fridge. . . or an office, for that matter.
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