Editorial – Amber Waves; Photography – Amber Waves; J.J. Deogracias
How do you remember your teen years (if yours are over)? Were they a time of happiness or angst? Were you soft-spoken and shy, studious or skipping school? When you first tasted age of majority booze, how did that freedom feel?
If it were possible to distill all of these emotions and memories into a song, I’m betting The Dirty Nil would probably write it.
The floors were soaked with enough beer to render linoleum drunk as the Dundas, Ontario trio roared onto the stage and embarked on a mission to destroy all ear drums with gusto. It’s been years since I’ve been fearful for the safety of my hearing; colour me impressed. For as rowdy and raw a sound the band delivers on their singles, The Dirty Nil are polished and shiny like the now defunct penny in their live incarnation. Vocals are tight, belted and boisterous as the thrashing crowd, accompanied by guitars riffed into submission and terrified to disobey.
Not like it matters: the key to quality garage punk is musical misteps made with flair.
Staple tracks like “Fuckin’ Up Young” and “Zombie Eyed” swell to chaotic crescendoes while softer (ha!) tracks like “Cinnamon” slink around and hang off your shoulders like that awesome guy who’s buying everyone shots because he’s too drunk to count cash or care about the consequences.
It’s all about the party, my friends, and the band’s motto goes for the audience as well: “You ain’t bleedin’, you ain’t tryin’.”