We could spend days arguing the toss as to what defines a punk band. Some say it’s a sound, others say its an attitude, yet in reality it is both. The accompanying press release for ‘Temporary Mutilation’ states that Useless Eaters are less concerned with punk as a sound, but very much remain PUNK. Purists will no doubt scoff at such a notion, but it is one that should be welcomed, and hopefully allow our scene to expand in different directions.
While Useless Eaters may not have the most original sound, it certainly is more outlandish than your average punk band. The disjointed haze of the EP’s title track is loaded with fuzz; intertwined with the sound of wood and brass instruments. It’s a little hard to decipher what is going on amongst the angular cacophony, but it is engaging nonetheless, and instantly lures you in.
Across the five tracks on this EP, things are kept short, sharp, and to the point. It moves between new wave and post punk, with added surprises along the way. However, it’s ‘Temporary Mutilation’ manages to maintain cohesion amongst the chaos. ‘Breathing Smear’ recalls the change that Ceremony made on their excellent ‘Rohnert Park’ album. The repetitive drums charge on through the duration, with simple lead lines to compliment Seth Sutton’s raw vocal. Low-end bass rumbles over a Devo-esque electronic beat on ‘Poison Dart’, and the hypnotic hook towards the end of ‘Scene + Sequence’ is redolent of Wire’s iconic 1977 album ‘Pink Flag’.
Even though it is less than 15 minutes long, ‘Temporary Mutilation’ packs in more stylistic curveballs than most full-length albums do. Its not traditional, and but borrows from a variety of influences, and gives Useless Eaters a fresh sound. They aren’t going to change the world or save the scene, but then they probably don’t want to. They would rather shake it up, and threaten to destroy it. Whichever way you look at it, Useless Eaters are a punk band. Especially if being punk is throwing the rulebook out of the window, and creatively doing whatever the hell you please.
GLEN BUSHELL