Mac Blackout
Self Titled
(Dead Beat, 2008)
A t this point in the history of recorded musics it’s supremely difficult to examine a disc in a micro sense. Everything is related – it’s past the point of being ‘seemingly’ or ‘tangential.’ Even ignoring the output of Max Blackout as a part of a group, this self titled album forces the question, “Does this need to be disseminated to the masses?”
I dunno.
As unsettling as other projects that Mac Black out has been associated with – Functional Blackouts and Daily Void – this easily trumps his other discs in that one area. It’s creepy. It’s even more disquieting that the unlikely city this all sprung from was Indianapolis, where Mac attended art school during the late ‘90s. And despite the date of these recordings, there is an obvious ‘80s influence. How these songs have thus far avoided comparisons to the Screamers is beyond ludicrous, but there is a unifying sewer dwelling nihilism amidst each track.
Beyond that comparison, the lead off track “Everybody Rock”, still immediately recalls the Ramones’ “Happy Family.” It’s not that funny or poppy, but listeners may still extol a chortle. Ideally, there’d be a stand-out, alas there’s not. Lyrically, “Baby Face Killer” is easily recalled by simply leaning upon its Oh Brother! related title – or maybe “Nowhere Man,” because it’s a bloody Beatles song.
Mac Blackout (the album, not the man) should not cease existing, mostly because it’ll easily make a buck, but there are sporadic redeeming qualities throughout the solo offering – occasionally summoning Jay Reatard. Unfortunately, the scant rewards of Mac Blackout can be found elsewhere in a group setting – and occasionally in the same song – “You’ve Lost Your Eyes.”
The Daily Void
The Identification Code 5271- 4984953784-06564
(Dead Beat, 2007)
Dead Beat Records has relocated to good ole Cleveland, Ohio. And regardless of their office being in my hometown, they continue to release punk and garagey related ventures. Amidst some of the more standard music this imprint works with are a few idiosyncratic and unique acts.
The Daily Void have been culled from the disbanded Functional Blackouts, who over the relatively short while they were performing, created a dense aura around themselves: playing house shows throughout the Mid-West and the like.
With the demise of the FBs, Dr. Filth and cohorts sought to continue their legacy of disheveled punk with a slight evolution. The sound of DV is obviously in some way tied to the FBs, but not as fulfilling. It’s still punk and the music still attempts to relate a bleak future through each tune. There is a tangible difference. The same propulsion is present. The band is fast, sloppy and rugged but the sense of experimentation and lack of care is missing. Even their name points to a perception of life that may not result in maximum effort.
If you think shit doesn’t matter, why bother exerting yourself?
Where as each FBs’ release moved forward in some way, adding a new layer of post-punk nihilism and noise, this initial release from the Daily Void seems like a step back to a more basic and primordial time. The music is still balls out punk, but doesn’t maintain the urgency that the Functional Blackouts were able to bring to the fore.
“Tapewurm” does possess a great deal of noise atop of the steady punk beat and even a bit of rhythmic variety, but unfortunately, there really isn’t a succinct statement of their work. Instead, what becomes apparent is an obsession with insects. Comparisons and blatant statements like, “You’re not a man/You’re an insect”, do point to the prevalent perception of humanity as scum, but where in punk is that lacking?
The arduously screamed chorus of “Die Stiletto” works to cement the lack of concern for life, and it’s convincing. Considering the past association though, this delivery of not quite standard punk seems a bit centered. The future may not look upon this as kindly as previous FBs releases and E-bay certainly won’t find anyone to hock The Identification Code for holiday prices anytime soon.