No Teeth – Black Flag
What The…
Black Flag
43:55 min • SST Records • November 5, 2013
Walter Beck reviews
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Black Flag is one of the iconic bands of American hardcore punk. Their 1978 debut EP Nervous Breakdown is arguably the first hardcore record and their 1981 album Damaged became an instant punk classic, introducing the country to angry young singer named Henry Rollins. The band had a troubled history, going through various singers, bass players, and drummers, with guitarist Greg Ginn being the only constant member. In the twenty-seven years since the band’s dissolution, rumors have floated around about a reunion and a new record. Greg Ginn brought back vocalist Ron Reyes (who sang on the band’s EP Jealous Again) and recruited drummer Gregory Moore from his solo projects and resurrected the legendary Black Flag.
The results, the album What The …, is really a mixed bag. It starts off strong with ‘My Heart’s Pumping’. A weird, warbling two-minute burner that captures a lot of the anger of the band’s early days, with Reyes’ barking vocals and Ginn’s distorted, off-kilter hardcore riffs carrying the track quite well.
After that, the album sort of moves into a mess – an endless, undistinguishable string of one to two minute songs dominated by Ginn’s warbling guitar chords, with a few seconds of strained sounding soloing and Reyes snarling vocals. The bass is mostly buried in the mix (credited to “Dale Nixon”, a pseudonym of Ginn’s) and Moore’s drumming is nearly lost in the sound, relegated to a thump and a crash.
There are a few brief glimpses of the old spirit in the sludge. ‘No Teeth’ comes pretty close to capturing the raw, burning hardcore soul of early Black Flag records and the closer ‘Off My Shoulders’ carries the same sludgy, half-marching anger of the band’s iconic 1984 album My War.
Black Flag built their reputation on raw, angry hardcore. Every record sounded like it would end in a riot and a police raid. They cemented their legendary status by be willing to experiment with sounds not found in traditional punk, such as jazz, heavy metal, and sludge (heard in My War and In My Head).
But this album is a shambles. Ginn’s riffs sound tired, like he’s just messing around with his guitar until something sounds at least somewhat right. Reyes tries with his vocals, but the years haven’t been kind to his barking cords, and well, I wish I could comment on Moore’s drumming, but it’s too buried in the mix for it to really shine at all.
This doesn’t sound like a reunion or a resurrection. This record sounds like Ginn staking his claim to the legacy of Black Flag against a recent reunion of former band members who have been touring under the name Flag and playing sets of the old songs.
Black Flag hasn’t been the only band from the early days of American punk to cut a new record. The Misfits released Dead Alive (a live record of new songs), and reggae punks Bad Brains came out with Into the Future. The albums all have one thing in common: legends looking at late middle age trying to recapture the fast and violent glory days of their youth.
And none of them can pull it off – what is gone tends to stay gone. And between the new records from the old dogs and the lack of original energy from the younger bands, maybe American punk is dead.
