If you're familiar with any of the stereotypes associated with young death metal/grind/extreme music listeners, you have a pretty solid vision of me as a 9th & 10th grader. If not, imagine a paste white, poorly groomed kid with long hair that didn't make much eye contact, wore plaid longsleeves over gross band shirts and pretended not to care what people thought. Around this point, my basic criteria a band had to meet was to a.) tune their guitars to drop D, b.) vocalize in an utterly incoherent manner, c.) percuss like the drummer and his/her respective kit were tumbling down a flight of stairs, and d.) play either really, really fast or really, really slow. Somewhere along the lines, though, I "softened" my stance and learned to love crust punk and powerviolence, too. I noted them worthy for their similarly dumb-as-a-hammer approach to dynamics and rhythm, and unbeknown to me at the time, kicked off my obsession with punk rock.Rudimentary Peni were one of those bands, and helped me bridge the gap between the "heavy-osity" of the crust punk scene and the anarcho scene they drew their sound from. Finding physical copies of their stuff proved impossible, so I hopped on the internet express to pirate-ville, and acquired The EPs Of RP, as well as their first LP, Death Church, and their over-the-top masterpiece, Cacophony. Their self-titled debut (aka Teenage Time Killer) chillin' in the left corner was my entry point since I have a built-in a mandate regarding chronology, and as such, became one of my favorites through heavy exposure.
The music here really isn't quite different from what the glut of British anarcho units were performing at the time, but even with the distorted, simple chord progressions and boom-chick drums, something rubbed me the wrong way when I first heard this. Coming from a musical background of extremes, with almost every element aurally scrawled in industrial sized sharpie, there was something really foreign about the band's sound. While the riffs are relatively straight forward, there's just something particularly ugly sounding about them, which if I'd have to guess, is attributable to the way they're played. I'm not Mr. KnowsShitAboutPlayingMusic, so I can't really elaborate, but there's definitely a seasick feeling in the delivery, as well as punctuations of feedback, scraping, and whatever else. Moreover, vocalist and cover artist Nick Blinko's vocals are nothing like the steady, shouted slur prominent in anarcho, but vary between two equally unusual modes. His screams sound extremely uneasy, almost as if he performed them while suffering hypothermia or something, with a harrowing, shakey, almost too urgent and high pitched delivery. On the other end, his low-register, slower deliveries sound sickly and drunken.
The great thing about being at an age where you're convinced that the key to the kingdom relies in the development of your musical eccentricities is this: you'll never be more patient with bands than you were when your persona supposedly rested upon it. This isn't to say I only listened to this shit out of image - I really, really enjoyed all of it - but when you finally land yourself an identity, compromise is hard to imagine. As such, through consistent exposure, I found myself giving in to Rudimentary Peni's idiosyncratic sound, and soon became a huge fan, sporting a smelly Farce t-shirt and a load of patches. This EP is short and sweet, delivering 12 short, catchy, and subtly weird tracks in record time. As I stated/implied earlier, it's pretty straightforward, especially in contrast to the ridiculousness of their second LP, Cacophony, but hey, this was released in '81. A band that pushed the envelope at a time where there barely even was a scene to feed off is something to celebrate.
Czech it out:
(I'll post this later since I'm in the library)Also, the clitoris is the Rudimentary Peni(s).
