Broken Teeth/ UDI/ Plain Dealers/ The Ratfinks show at Corktown Tavern, February 19, 2011

Broken Teeth/ UDI/ Plain Dealers/ The Ratfinks show at Corktown Tavern, February 19, 2011


I hate 21 and up shows; kids love the music and can’t even fucking get into a show? Because your employees are too lazy to check ID at the bar or you don’t want to charge a cover at the door? Fuck that! Even from a business perspective, it’s entirely nonsensical to wield the banhammer in the direction of passionate underage music fans. If no one is coming into your business, you cannot make any money. A $5 non-drinker is still a potential customer, and that’s $5 a head more that can be made than if you ban them. The benefit outweighs the risk. In any case, my friend the doorman let me in regardless of age and I found a comfortable roaming circle in which to reside for the show.

First was local upstart Broken Teeth, who’ve been very active and seem to progress with each passing show; this show was no exception. Fuelled by beer and a general hatred of this “new school” sort of lifestyle begat by our generation the Millenials, the sound is an homage to Boston bruisers Slapshot and old Detroit hardcore and it’s still fresh to hear. In a world dominated by the likes of trust-fund urban hipsters playing faux punk and kids swallowing the anti-capitalist capitalism of Fat Wreck in one gulp, it’s honestly a fresh breath to see that my generation is still capable of gritty, dirty back-to-basics hardcore. I thought I might be perpetually paralleled with punk veterans alone, but Broken Teeth shows that this is not the case, at all.

Following was UDI, straight from the gutter in the alleyway to the stage. I imagine the singer is what would happen when an auctioneer loses satisfaction with his job and life, becomes an alcoholic, and joins a gang of three other people with similar life problems. Although very disciplined for a non-practicing band, UDI doesn’t seem to get much of a chance to leave town, unfortunately. Grand Rapids and Lansing would do well to be receptive to this drunken thrash punk.

Third were Ohio punks the Plain Dealers. My memory of them is, sadly, somewhat fuzzy, but it seemed to ring of simplistic Stooges-style punk, not complicated but not weak. They did a cover of a Jabbers song, and it fit very well. There’s not a lot to describe the band, as I don’t have a lot to compare it to. A worth opening band, at least.

Last in line were the Ratfinks, who’ve been crawling into and out of Detroit sewers for nine years, and seem to have a steady base from which to work. Spitting out both album artifacts and newfound nihilistic sonic waves, the band is on the beaten but best path for bands. One of Detroit’s drunk-punk crews with a slight subtraction in daily drunkenness, the Ratfinks are fucking back!

The show wasn’t much more than an eventful night at the bar, but the bands are undoubtedly worth mentioning and reviewing. This is a regular Saturday night show in Detroit; it only gets better from here.

-Aunty Social

U.D.I. self-titled LP review

What if the Accused, instead of being born in Seattle, was born in a dirty Detroit trailer park? More than likely, someone like Unidentified Drunken Injury would form. While they both play amphetamine-fueled thrashing hardcore, the similarities between those two bands end there; I have never heard a band sound quite like U.D.I. does on this LP.
In many ways, U.D.I. is very unique. I have not heard a band play this fast and this efficiently in a very long time, and I have not heard a vocalist sound quite like Mike Ratt does, ever. He sounds like what a demonic, possessed child on cocaine would sound like. Most notably, I have never heard a band that made me want to drink, skateboard and consume massive quantities of speed simultaneously. U.D.I. does all of that in the short span of eighteen minutes.
Ratt’s nihilistic babbling is probably the most memorable part of this album, because it’s so fast, yet the message is so clear. The guitar is a sonic assault on the ears; it’s fast enough, loud enough, and I fuckin’ love it. The bass and drums are fueled only by anger and alcohol, yet they manage to rip like a bassist and drummer should. In any other city, the sheer ferocity of the album would likely be misplaced, but in a fucked-up metropolis like Detroit, U.D. I. is right at home. No one plays music like this; buy this album from Spider Cuddler Records and experience this septic thrash for yourself!
-Aunty Social