The Pist are Sick of the Way That You Dance

The Pist are Sick of the Way That You Dance

I’ve had this back patch for, I dunno, ten years at this point – give or take. I think I bought it at an Anti-Flag show prior to realizing that those dudes pretty much read from a script in lieu of actual stage banter. Anyway, there’s a shredded up flag with the statement “Destroy Society” plastered atop of it all. The Pist were sweet, but I think the sentiment related on that patch is a bit obtuse. Anyway, I wasn’t ever privy to seeing the Connecticut band live. Instead, I was relegated to playing Ideas Are Bulletproof roughly twenty times a week for a few years. Oddly enough, it didn’t leave me damaged in the least – I do have tinnitus, though.

Coming from Connecticut seems odd for a group that sounds like this – maybe not if you’re from there. But the pervasive perception of that state – and the northeast in general – is that it’s all just a buncha white clapboard buildings dating from the 1700s or so. That might still be true, I dunno, but the scummy punk that the Pist (Bill Chamberlain/guitar, Al Ouimet/vocals, Brian Marshall/drums and Rick Abbott/bass) were able to revel in for just short of five years seems more intelligent than a great many other bands, not just of the nineties, but in the genre.

Politicized lyrics may have disqualified these folks from dumb punk status, but the music is still just short of tepid, quickly paced punk. There’s a dash of hardcore in there courtesy of the metalized guitar sound. And it’s gotta be said that between that and the almost Ian Stewart level of Quimet’s vocals, I might not be too into the Pist if I were to have just discovered them. But that’s not the case. Instead, listening to the lyrics represented on Ideas are Bulletproof as well as the newly cobbled together compilations spanning the band’s singles and compilation appearances is a pretty decent way to figure the way in which I arrived at my world view – some of it at least.

There might be too much of an emphasis on good ole hard work – which the Pist admit still sucks – but apart from that, the nonstop commentary on society covers every sphere of private life. There’re songs asking hunters what would happen if they became the hunted alongside tracks doused in dense political polemics and of course a few songs dedicated to commenting on the scene and music in general.

Reuniting for a few gigs during the early ‘00s, the Pist saw a small uptick in popularity, perhaps prompting these compilations. But even if there were a different reason for a renewed interest in this Connecticut band, it doesn’t matter too much as long as kids get a chance to hear choruses like the one from “New School” – “We’re sick of your tough guy stance/We’re sick of the way you dance/We’re sick of your baggy pants/So leave now while you still got the chance” – all is right in the world, even if the Pist kinda wants it all leveled.