Couch Slut, Sunrot, - (16) - and Muertre En Aceite at Che Cafe's beautiful night of people power.

 

couch slut chaos.

Being at the last night of the first West Coast appearance of East Coast revelatory noisers Couch Slut and Sunrot's tour (at San Diego's awesome little queer, commie, hippie/punk haven Che Cafe Collective ) felt like one of those "you'll wish you were there" moments I would read about in books about cool old shows by Thurston Moore or Eugene Robinson. It was phenomenal.

On the eleventh anniversary of the murder of Michael Brown, at a time when so many people with good hearts and souls seem expendable to state violence, capitalism and a disdain for the marginalized, it felt empowering to be at an all ages show in an all genders welcome space that was filled with bands and folx trying to make the world a little brighter. Even as metal and punk processes the grimness of it all, the best of it moves the dial towards change and/or community. 

I wake up in considerable pain lately from a frozen shoulder and other type 1 diabetes related issues, feet cramps. old person stuff...no fun. The amount of cbd seltzer I consume from Grocery Outlet it getting pretty epic. But I still am five years sober, woot. It takes a lot to drag my ass to a show, even though I go to them semi-often and try to stay connected to cool things and people. But when that feeling of hoping for a meaningful night is rewarded, it just feels so good. 

The Cafe is located in a weird little spot amidst a kind of small forest (where my diabetic bladder let go of like three energy drinks I couldn't hold anymore...shout out to public urination apologia). It is like wedged between a weird massive water tower thingy and part of a school/theater district, but off on their own enough that the kids can make as much noise at they want.

Loved the cool communist and revolutionary heroes and weird art adorning the walls. A class war conscious, vegan and queer friendly, all ages environment with a zine library like I never left the better parts of the nineties? And a community fridge for mutual aid? The vibes are awesome. And I got a little They/Them button for fifty cents. Sweet deal. 

Loved seeing the old fliers too and getting to take pics of like a Hail Mary opening for the Locust flier and text it to my old friend Matto from Peterwalkee Records or Jon from Akimbo and be like ,"dudes, I found you" and hear their psyched responses at the memories. 

The show had been set up last minute after the tour opted to not play a venue with a Maga supporting owner. Suffice to say this was a much better choice and I heard kids and staffers vocalize how glad some of them were for now being able to see the show at an alcohol free venue with an earlier start time. Fuck yeah. 

Muertre En Aceite was one person (I don't know their gender) noise of a high caliber. Very cool pulsing and raging disruptive screams that reminded me of a more lo-fi James Plotkin meets sort of radical activism via harsh noise vibe. I love when noise sets open shows and either scare people off or entice them into a "woah, what the fuck is happening?" kind of headspace. 

I had been wanting to see - (16) - for fucking years, the caustic sludgers sensibilities aligning with my taste very often. Being on the West Coast now it is a lot easier, since they play here all the time. So glad it finally happened and Bobby and I had a cool talk after their set. Just a rock solid group with their best line-up yet still grooving onward into heavy glory.

The crowd got really into the veteran band's churning riffery and scream infused power, despite a few sort of heart warming punk rock technical difficulties at first with the vocal levels that brought back many a memory of shitty sound mishaps at gigs over the years. It all worked out though and the group delivered a powerhouse set of atheism infused dirge and groove. It was also super cool that Bobby was vocally aware from the stage that it "isn't our show" and was mindful of the other band's set times. Very cool in a scene where a lot of people just want to get their nut and peace out. Can't wait to see these dudes again as soon as possible.

Sunrot were...I mean, where do I start? I had loved their recent releases but seeing the band live and the absolute wall of chaos and energy they put out there is so cool. And the fact that it is wrapped in the vibes are so right big queer and friend affirming, Fuck ICE and ACAB group hug mosh vibes they unleash...chef's kiss. One of the best sets I have seen in years and the crowd was really alive for the energy. "1312" was a big highlight, but the whole set was cathartic and conscientious. 

Not only was the solid connectivity between many rad riffs and political messaging to spread awareness on point, but it was great hearing Sunrot's members so vocally express kinship and love for Couch Slut many times. So many bands are ego driven and not cool with sharing admiration or acknowledging the value of others. I thought it was a nice touch. 

Couch Slut were somehow dynamic, apocalyptic, shambling but tight, carthartic and un-apologetic in their world shattering brutal noise honesty. Their chemistry as a unit onstage is so killer. It is one thing to know that all their records gave a lot of folx reason to believe the scene wasn't completely fuckin' washed, but to see a band this good live is another level. Amy Rose Mills (who has a fantastic insta) going crazy, face obscured and sort of towering...really married to the guitar madness like a physical conduit in motion. Drums bashing and Jesus Lizard worthy bass clobber. And of course Megan. Megan Osztrosits commands attention without having to assert it, sometimes a sort of withdrawn presence, sometimes affable and other times a complete ball of fury. 

The music was of course epic and intense, but I also super was moved by how Megan managed to sort of recount so much trauma and awful shit to a crowd that included younger people who might be learning about vulnerability in "underground" spaces, while very much embodying the principle that even some of the worst shit that other people do to you doesn't have to make you lose your self worth as a person. 

Driving an hour or so from San Diego from where I live, I always drive by a little stretch of Ocean where I said a prayer to my sister Kari on the day that I couldn't afford to fly to her funeral, shortly after her unexpected death from a lung infection a few years ago. It pains me deeply I never got to see her before I moved West, but you always think at the time that you'll get to visit loved ones in the future. Anyway, driving past there I always feel her presence and a sense that I hope she sees I am trying to live the adventure of being out here in a new place and still following my path. 

Going to shows so moving and validating makes it feel like maybe we aren't all alone against the darkness after all. They want to isolate us and make us feel hopeless, but the spark survives when we keep going. As Ian Curtis sang in "Isolation" by Joy Division, "This is my one lucky prize." 

Part of my convo with Bobby comes back to me from that night now as I write this waking up with the sun just coming up. We're really either in this together or the whole ship sinks.