Legend has it that bands like Dad once roamed the tundra of ‘80s/‘90s NYC in abundant numbers like wildebeests thundering across the Serengeti before the ecosystem was driven to near extinction by the anti-nightlife policies of Rudolph Giuliani (a.k.a. America’s Insurrectionist) and Michael “Lil’ Mickey” Bloomberg…
…helped along in no small part by the broader forces of gentrification at work all of which together conspiring to wipe out as many of the natural habitats (dive bars, grotty grottos, all-nite greasy spoons) of underground culture as possible, including habitats acting largely as musical Petri dishes to the local music scene…
…to which the “urban pond scum” found in some of these Petri dishes responded by breeding some of the most brutal punk and blistering hardcore and grimy grindcore and bludgeoning filth-rock made to date, made by bands like Agnostic Front, Cro-Mags, Murphy’s Law, Bad Brains, the Voluptuous Horror of Karen Black, Letch Patrol, Iron Prostate, Furious George, Reagan Youth, Token Entry, Crumbsuckers, CopShootCop, False Prophets, the Unsane, Helmet, Prong, D Generation, Sick of ti All, Surgery, King Missle, Bongwater, Motherhead Bug, the Niagras, and God Is My Co-Pilot to name but a few…
…and while things may’ve have gone downhill for a while after that, far from extinction, the ecosystem has lived on with current purveyors of hardcore music such as Non-Residents, Winterwolf, and Fishlord to name a few bands at the center of a current and ongoing Black and Brown punk renaissance in NYC as well as elsewhere, whereas in other cases some of the lowliest of scum-rockers have retreated even further underground to the domestic sphere which is a natural métier for a band like Dad whose songs explore the dark underbelly of “hardcore dad rock” in a way that’s obviously gonna resonate with Gen X’ers and older Millennials but with their children too…
..so to be clear we’re not talking about dad rock made for Ok Boomers who like to tool around the suburbs in their Subaru Outbacks blasting “I Won’t Back Down,” but instead a more abrasive, confrontational strain of dad rock for all those bitter Gen X’er fathers out there who’ve never achieved the same level of economic security as their parents thus instilling a certain fatalistic resolve to age gracelessly, dressed in zebra print sweatpants barking out orders to take out the trash and go pick up some groceries as heard on one of Dad’s early single “Domesticate Me” or piling the brood into a broken down 1998 Dodge Stratus for a cheap vacation to Wallyworld while railing at everyone in the car “if I don’t get my road soda / I’m gonna turn this fucking thing around!”…
…and then there’s their songs about following “Company Policy” and being proudly “Behind the Times” from earlier this year or the EP simply called Home Is Hell with music that’s as serrated and sludgy and noisy and angry, just as corrosively filled with fury and misdirected testosterone as any of your more political punk rock songs out there about historical and current societal blights like colonialism and late capitalism and complicity in the military-industrial complex but instead we’re talkin’ about dads losing their shit over recalcitrant ingrate kids or a wife so deflated she’s in danger of crumpling entirely…
…which is why Dad’s new song “Snake Handshake” is something of a revelation, a song which sonically steamrolls anything in its path as usual for Dad but which sounds like a panicked implosion at the same time with guitars that swarm like vultures and a double-bass drum that jackhammers its way to the center of your mind and a vocal that convincing puts across a live-wire sense of twitchy energy and desperation to an extent that hasn’t appeared in Dad’s repertoire before to our knowledge and gosh if Steve Albini had only heard Dad’s “Snake Handshake” he probably woulda declared ’em the next Jesus Lizard…
…with the eponymous Dad of “Snake Handshake” deciding to turn his life around by opening a small business in the form of a bar named Shooters which you can probably already picture based on the name along or maybe you’ve already been to one like we have, with your loyal scribe having hung out at a Shooters in Hermitage, Tennessee (with my dad, no less) and let’s just say it’s the kind of place that hosts a self-described “midget wrestling” night (or at least used to) about which the less said, the better and the kind of place where I was almost denied admission for having a Brooklyn-issued driver’s license…
…the kind of place where bad dads are welcomed and handed a Bud Light Lime as soon as they enter as their wives while away time at home binge-watching “Who’s Your Daddy” or whatever is the current trash du jour but with Dad at least planning on owning and operating said bar and improving the lot of his family (“I’m gonna give you a home!”) except that when he visits the bank for a loan they turn him down for possibly good reason (“they wanna check my credit!”) but which doesn’t stop Dad from unleashing some guttural screaming in protest of “the establishment”…
…and when the bank’s reptilian representative won’t shake his hand to close the deal that’s the last straw, with Dad unravelling further with howls of rage and existential angst as the music itself becomes more unhinged, shifting into a warped meter to match the verbal stuttering and low, menacing growls in the vocals something like a death metal Yosemite Sam but there’s equal parts pathos in there too with Dad thwarted and frustrated by the very patriarchy which entitles him otherwise…
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James Watson – Vocals
Jon Murphy – Guitar
David Flick – Bass
Jeremy Duval – drums
Studio version recorded at Silver Cord Studio, Ridgewood NY
Tim Haggerty – Recording Engineer
Johann Meyer – Mixing Engineer
Live version recorded at Rift Studios, Brooklyn NY
Jun Yang Ng – Recording & Mixing Engineer
Dan Walker – Mastering Technician
Cover photo – Ante Hamersmit
Typography – Jesse Fairbairn
Layout & direction – Jon Murphy
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Quoting from the song’s promotional materials…
“Fast forward to 2024, DAD recorded at Silver Cord studios in Brooklyn with Johann Meyer, known for his work with Gojira [of Olympics opening ceremony famˆ]. The year has already been marked by the release of two standout singles: “Behind The Times” in April and “Snake Handshake” on July 19th, both of which have been met with notable acclaim. The band recently wrapped up a short tour of Upstate NY and Connecticut with Cash Bribe, followed by a blistering performance at Fishfest IV in Wurtsboro, NY, where their intense and unfiltered sound left audiences both exhilarated and questioning their life choices.
“Snake Handshake,” the Brooklyn-based outfit’s second release this year through Fear Icon Records sees the band’s sound shifting from full-tilt face melt rippers to a furious and sludgier wall of sound paired with thunderously pummeling drumming and Watson’s Henry Rollins-like howls. At its core, the song expresses the sort of righteous and expected distrust of handshake-driven business deals, rooted in the shadiness of corporate types—in all industries. But interestingly, the song’s narrator invites doubts into his own integrity. Perhaps it’s all just bullshit, huh?“