Shower Beers, Frankie Teardrop and Small Steps, as well as the lesser-known Stella, the show was a disorientating blur of screaming, violently bashed guitars and furious drums with a hell of a lot of noise to drive the whole thing over the edge.night at The Union was a departure from commonality for those who attended. With scene staples
It felt like too much Dramamine or some other dissociative. Listeners were thrown into this abrasive world of sound, wholly disorientating. The members of each band slowly succumbed to the delirium as the night drew on, with brief fits of sanity where the music reformed into tangible cohesiveness before being beaten back down with a scream or beat that bled the entire spectacle back into one inescapable din.
I’m not entirely sure what’s to be taken away from nights like this. To me, it felt like a showcase of subversive anger, with the bands demonstrating violence for violence’s sake. Perhaps that’s the point--to leave preconceptions at the door and be buried in something alien and think outside of what you know and what’s familiar.