Homostupids The Intern

[Parts Unknown; 2007]

Rating: 4/5

Others: Void, Clockcleaner, The New Flesh

The Homostupids play fast, noisy garage rock with the excitement and energy of early-’80s hardcore. With only two brief, out-of-print singles under their belt, the Cleveland-based band incited an excited frenzy within the underground music critic community. The Homostupids’ debut LP, The Intern, clocks in at a mere 17 minutes, two minutes more than the Circle Jerks’ classic Group Sex, but sounds complete and utterly engrossing. I don’t know if brevity is the soul of wit, but the Homostupids prove it’s the nucleus of kickass. Each tune is under a minute-and-a-half and provides an anthemic slimeball sing-a-long and opportunity to play air guitar. “Apeshit,” the album’s lead-off track, presents the formula for most of the album. The short, sharp fit of pure garage-rock ecstasy comes complete with a noisy, clanging guitar line, two verses and a repeated chorus of “apeshit.” It is also exactly one minute long.

Sitting down and writing a review of the album is hard. The band play such a fast, fun hybrid of punk rock that it’s easy to forget what you’re doing and slamdance around the room. One cannot wax intellectual about the band because they play primitive hardcore that is more concerned with booze parties than political ones. Save for each song’s chorus, most of the band’s lyrics are indecipherable, so highlighting their goofy lyrics is out of the question. One could synthesize the record by providing the sonic details of each song but what’s the point?

You press 'play' and then, splat, it’s over. Beer cans and broken things are littered about your apartment and you and your roommate look at each other at a loss for words as to what just happened. The other option is to go the go the alternative weekly route and boil the album down to a quirky sentence or two. I’ll do that: The Intern is a 17-minute glimpse into the boozed-up minds of punkers in their early thirties who refuse to shed their adolescent penchants for destruction and incoherence. It’s a quick, amusing throwback to times when punk rock was synonomous with youth, mischief and fun, not politics, the mall and spiked hair. You’ll go apeshit for these fuckers.

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