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Noise Pollution #13: The Fable of the Tortoise and…the Tortoise


The Music Industry[™] traditionally has worked on a cycle where bands are expected to do a new record once every year or two, mostly to capitalize on popularity since the general public is both fickle and has a shitty memory. This dribbles down into all facets of music, not just the popular genres the kids are into, though it’s a little more convoluted when you get into the weirder subgenres. We could go into a larger conversation about market manipulation exploiting the general public’s shit attention span causing new cultural trends to spring up synthetically or we could talk about the shitty bands only PR firms care about that crap out five albums in a year-and-a-half span, but I’m more focused on the outliers. The bands which don’t seem to really pay attention to releasing things in a set manner to keep a constant beacon shining on them, the billboards that read “PLEASE DON’T FORGET ABOUT ME”… I mean the bands that take nearly a fucking decade to do goddamned anything but who don’t need to rush into the fray because their last records were strong enough to withstand the changing musical landscapes. I want to tell you about two of them today because that’s why I’m here: to force feed you shit I care about without any regard to whether or not they interest anyone else.

My first experience with The Banner was through a brief email exchange where their vocalist, JSS, sent me over a few files of their latest record Greying to check out, since I was pretty publicly vocal that I wanted to check out more dark hardcore ala Integrity and (the infamous) Gehenna. I enjoyed what he sent, but this wasn’t the memory that sticks out about this record and my overall experience with it… just the spark.

A brief overview of The Banner would be: they’re a hardcore band from my adopted home of New Jersey (I’m actually from Pittsburgh in case that comes up on your next trivia night) that did some horror-esque recordings in the early ’00s before finding their footing with Each Breath Haunted and (the fucking incredible) Frailty album before fading off into the sunset for a few years. After half a decade of silence they came back with the Born to Ruin demo, which showed off a more goth/industrial tinge while being their most aggressive recording to date, with completely vicious vocals. That brings us up to the end of 2014 with the release of Greying and we’re up to speed.

I was driving up north to go to a friend’s birthday party and, being perpetually unprepared, I stopped at Vintage Vinyl for a last minute gift (the self titled Killing Joke album, first of two references of this piece) and, being a self centered asshole, a few things for myself which included Greying. I listened to it on the way to the party, where I would stand around like an awkward asshole (or a joyless “black hole” as my girlfriend would put it) for a few hours until I was off to my next adventure of the night. That adventure would end with me saying “just shut up and let me talk to them” as cops approached my friend’s parked car at 3 AM where she, for whatever reason, kept several empty bottles of wine and assorted small plastic bags. As the sun came up and I was driving away on the Garden State Parkway, thankful to have gotten away I was resolute to make a life altering change by the end of the year (2015 for those of you keeping score). The soundtrack to that drive would become the soundtrack for a very transformative year.

Greying is a genre-bending affair, but unlike a lot of bands whose press sheets are taken out of a thesaurus of hyperbole, it’s an entirely organic experience where you don’t feel that the industrial noise sections take you out of the negative hardcore or that the nod to Pete Steele muddies the more black metal influenced moments. It’s just a fucking dismal record in all the right ways. And while the record checks every box for me in terms of sonics and aesthetics what really stands out is the lyrics. JSS really manages to create a story of utter hopelessness that can be applied to love, friendships, and people in general. Greying paints a picture of the meaningless suffering of life. “It never gets better.”

As the seasons changed, I found myself in Richmond every other weekend until it was decided that I should finally get off the pot and leave New Jersey for good. Every time I took the drive south, I would listen to Greying at least twice until the final night I clocked out of my shitty medical custodial job and piled my shit into the car and drove to my new home. That night I kept the record on repeat. The Banner were a constant in my life that year, one of those bands I wouldn’t shut the fuck up about and subjected anyone unlucky enough to share a car ride with me to. It seemed like they were poised to continue to spread sonic misery until all of a sudden it went quiet again, and it mostly stayed quiet, with the occasional whisper of a show or possibly recording a new record. It’s now been eight years since Greying and I still hear those whispers, but a band like The Banner doesn’t have to adhere to my or anyone’s expectations. After releasing one of my favorite records of the last few decades, I don’t know if I need them to. I’ll remain patient until the next one, even if it never comes.

I don’t have nearly as interesting of a story as to how I got into Withdrawal. When I managed the record store, we would get records from Cobraside distribution. Cobraside has pegged my boss as a mark because he would let them do a dealer’s choice with what they sent us and they would just unload every fucking few days box after box of shit I never heard of, most of which I guarantee are still sitting on the shelves years later, at a wholesale price so close to retail you almost would want to sign up as a business and just buy your shit directly from them. It wasn’t all bad though, because there’s plenty I would have been late to checking out if they didn’t throw everything in a cannon and fire it into a UPS truck. Withdrawal’s Faith, Flesh & Blood 7-inch was one and was memorable to me because my girlfriend at the time, who also worked there (because I used to love to shit where I ate), was really pissed off about the cover and thus didn’t want me to stock or own it. By that point, I was doing what I could to draw her ire so I ended up taking a copy home. And that act of childishness paid dividend after dividend.

Manitoba’s Withdrawal are in a similar vein to The Banner. This is a band obviously rooted in hardcore but very willing to sprinkle in other genres, which is especially apparent on their full length “Never”, which surfaced a few years after I’d moved to Richmond.

This is a record that has many flavors of complexity to it, from hardcore to black metal to postpunk and even some traditional heavy metal. While not as bleak or dismal as Greying, Never is filled with spite and aggression making it a terrific companion record if you’re into negative hardcore or just dark music in general. Much like The Banner, it’s now been half a decade since its release with no new record on the horizon, though there is a split being announced shortly that hopefully spurs them into action on a new full length.

I’ve written about both bands before because these are two of my favorite records of the last decade. I’ve had the pleasure of playing with The Banner at the Acheron in Brooklyn before it closed, as well as watching them open for Modern Life is War (another band that’s years late with a new album) and I’ve spent countless hours listening to them or Withdrawal, two bands that can play fast but are taking the long way to getting us new material, and that’s fine, they don’t owe any of us shit. If they decide they’ve had enough, then that’s their (or any band’s) decision. We don’t own musicians (well, outside of the major labels, anyway). They’re free to do whatever they want (again, outside of the majors), but we’re lucky enough when they give us albums like Greying or Never. So feel some fucking gratitude and give these two a listen and I’ll see you again in two.

Oh, I almost forgot, here’s number two.