It has been
14 years since Swedish hardcore punks, Refused
played together, so it was no surprise when the announced a reunion tour,
tickets sold out by the time most dialed the first three digits to place their
order. The ones who seemed most
surprised by the scramble was the band, whose bewilderment of the contrast to
their former poor reception last gig in 1998, preformed to 45 people in a friend’s
basement in Harrisonburg, Virginia seemed humbling in the face of waves
of admiring hardcore kids.
Having been described as playing New York City hardcore by
Swedish papers and drawn influence from the cities musical styling, regardless
of lack of street smarts and their snappy dress in opposition to the tough guy
look, it could be said that on this tour, NYC was the place they should be seen. Playing shows at Terminal 5 on the 22nd (with
Cerebral Ballzy) and 23rd (with Ceremony), I was not only fortunate enough to
be in town, but managed to snag a ticket from a friend for the 22nd.
Through a
pilgrimage what felt like near torrential rains, not to mention standing in
line outside Terminal 5 under the stream to gain entry even once Cerebral
Ballzy was well underway, it was hard to tell by the end of the first track
whether it was rain water or human sweat being swapped through the sandwiched
layers of human torsos and pulsating peripheral extremities. Singer, Dennis Lyxzén was on that night;
Dancing and throwing his body around to every corner of the stage. Making his way out into the crowd at one
point brought the energy of to music into the pit with such a convergence that
the friction of the moshing and the music may have ignited if you reached up to
touch him. The entire band just lit up
the stage with energy. Guitarist Jon Brännström and guitarist/bassist Kristofer
Steen blew up the speakers as David Sandström’s radical drum beats veered
the push to shove. SOIA's Lou Koller even made his way out on stage to help the band
out on a track after the band lamented how the once drove several hours to see SOIA and camped out in tents like true
die-hards.
The entire show was short in comparison to your average
line-up; only one opener, who started right on time (an unlikely virtue in punk
music). Simple set with a veil of the
refused logo draping the stage before the show commenced. No covers or encores; just a solid set with
no pause to re-claim a standing space in the pit. I became accustomed to my disposition. Generally suspended on a slant or with my
entire body hovering forward, back arched and contorted between the forms of
those of different heights. Cheeks pressed between shoulders and pursed out like
munchkins, this show was worth every penny.
If
Refused is heading to a
city near you, get out your life vest or you may just drown in a wave of
nostalgic fan, lyrical vocalizations.
Every word, even more prevalent today than the day it was written. Punk’s not fucking dead and neither is
Refused.
Originally published on Brooklyn Vegan
Article also published on This is Not a Scene http://www.thisisnotascene.com/2012/refused-terminal-5-new-york-april-23-2012/
