D.C. Snipers: Punk in the Capitol

D.C. Snipers: Punk in the Capitol

After getting done being disappointed in the lowly release from the Baseball Furies, it’s a sincere pleasure to hear music as messed up and from such a bizarrely dark place as what the DC Snipers have concocted.

If folks are familiar with the Spider Bags, who share singer and songwriter Dan McGee with this here New Jersey punk act, it’d be a good idea to disregard any aural expectations from that country inflected group. There’s pretty much no connection to be made musically. And even if one were to take the time to try and figure out any lyrical similarities it seems that the Snipers are the kinds of people to make fun of you for it. That should be duly noted.

Anyway, two albums into its career, the Snipers haven’t slipped up yet. But in reading any interview with the crew, it seems likely that a drug induced break down is on the way at pretty much any moment. But that’s really what makes the music that this group cranks out worth taking a listen to.

Working with classic source material – ie anything that makes equal use of pop melodies and a bit too much distortion – the DC Snipers attempt to separate itself from scores of other punk related groups with uneven attempts at obtuse musics. That’s a slight, to be sure, but even if listeners are all too aware of these overt attempts, on occasion it works out.

Issuing a self titled disc during 2009 didn’t do too much for the band’s visibility, but the one note that seemingly lasts forever towards the tail end of “Zagreb City Boys” works in two ways. That note should probably be figured as the band’s attempt to freak out its listeners - and it probably does on occasion. But what it also does is to align the group with some of the artsy (not necessarily lame, but perhaps) punk groups mining no wave related territory. And while “Zagreb City Boys” really isn’t notable for too much else, the band’s concerted effort at being troublesome should be lauded.

The remainder of the self titled disc works mostly in one tempo and spits out vocals that are not only indecipherable, but also reminiscent of Baltimore’s the Suspects. Connecting the Snipers with groups from the nineties isn’t too difficult even as none of the players here were apparently engaged in groups playing out at the time. But even in the progression the Snipers work out on tracks like “TBM,” with its two disparate sections that almost don’t make sense together, coupled with its vocal approach firmly roots the band in that past decade.

Including a bit of electronic trickery on the aforementioned track doesn’t hurt too much and again serves to connect the Snipers with difficult art musics from the early eighties. Of course, if one were to ask band members about such tactics, there’d certainly be more sneering sarcasm than anything else. But that’s what we should all expect from a band that prizes anti-social music and behavior.