by Shaye Frenkel
Hardcore gets a bad rap. You’ve either never heard of it, and assume it’s gotta do with perverse sex, or you associate it with meathead delinquents who only know how to pick fights and steal. And yeah, that might be a lot of people in the scene, but in our defense, there’s nothing like it. No other genre works in an intimate live setting like hardcore punk. It’s definitely got a bit of a learning curve: specific parts entail distinct dance styles and crowd interaction is mandatory. I love listening to it through my headphones while I walk to class, but it’s an entirely different beast to actually stand there and experience the genre in person.
Pain of Truth is one of the hottest names in the game. Propelling themselves into genre superstardom with their newest record Not Through Blood, they’ve now embarked on their first headlining tour to celebrate its release, bringing along a diverse selection of bands from all across the spectrum of heavy music.
They played The Foundry, in Lakewood, Ohio, a tiny bar venue where many hardcore bands come through. We began our night with Frenzy, a local band, who brought a strong start to the lineup. One thing I love about hardcore is how short the sets tend to be. No one wants to play for longer than thirty minutes. Bands in the genre have mutually decided they enjoy performing sub three minute songs featuring concise parts that don’t overstay their welcome. They don’t spend forever in between songs too, instead preferring to launch into the next one soon after, usually only giving themselves time to shout their band name out or the song title.
After a brief pause, Vomit Forth was up next. I’d seen them last summer, when they toured with Sanguisugabogg (mouthful I know), and a sick roster of up-and-coming death metal adjacent bands. Unsurprisingly, they brought the house down from the first song. I attempted to get into the pit, only to leave a few moments later after getting smacked in the head pretty hard. I probably didn’t get a concussion. Probably. From there, I stood towards the back, drinking in the chaos from afar. A fight broke out in front of me, and someone got dragged out by security. Soon, the next band was up: Life’s Question.
They marked a sizable shift in sound. Instead of playing chuggy breakdowns and mosh parts, they sprinkled heaping helpings of melody, along with guitar leads, and even singing. Despite this, there was still ample dancing in the pit. People swung their arms wildly, kicked into the air, and pushed back and forth in rhythm with the music. Yet another short set later and it was time for the headliners.
Opening with a hip hop sample, Pain of Truth came crashing in. I personally enjoyed their new album a decent amount, but something about it hadn’t fully clicked for me yet. Seeing them live, however, was a completely different story. From the first note until the last, the entire floor was filled with chaos. Bodies flinging across the room, lights flashing, crowdsurfing, mic grabbing, the energy that they managed to bring out from the attendees was unmatched. Almost every song, a new guest vocalist would run up and yell a few bars before sinking back into the ocean of concert-goers. Every person in that room was part of the performance.
Utilizing their short discography to its fullest extent, Pain of Truth wielded their instruments like weapons of mass destruction, leaving chaos in their wake. During one interesting moment, their vocalist handed his microphone off to one of the guitarists, switching positions mid song. He effortlessly grabbed the guitar and performed pummeling power chords as if nothing happened. There was an element of fluidity to their presence, with each member contributing more than just what was required from them. After the song was over, they switched back, and continued the set as planned. You could tell the vocalist was comfortable in his position. He had complete control of the crowd, calling for them to move forward or mosh at his whim.
“Last song,” The vocalist yelled, signaling that this was our remaining chance to make the most of the twenty dollars we paid to be here. When that final breakdown hit, and the lights dimmed completely, the dance floor erupted in a cacophony of writhing bodies. They paused briefly before launching into one final breakdown (actually the last one this time), just to relish in the electric atmosphere they had cultivated. Before I knew it, the show was over. Starting at 7:30 on the dot and ending at around 10:00, just how I like it. Final rating? Fun experience, would recommend.
Yasss!!!