by Corey Sustarich
Roughly pinpointing our modern hell in a few brief punk songs, Kneeling In Piss gives us more. Types of Cults is their fourth release. It is also their third EP from a series of recordings made over the last year. Signature to the band’s sound is finding that right piece of music and playing it until it’s all used up, employing what Alex Mussawir calls his “concrete lack of skill.” Following Mussawir on this release are Scott Hagelgans, Ben Leach, and Kyle Bergamo; one of this band’s many lineups. Their latest three EPs, including Types of Cults, will be released as a full-length on Anyway Records at a later date.
Currently, making divisive songs is unheard of. Lyrical content is often veiled in loose symbolism or overly emotional language. Many songs are inventories of words thrown at dartboards of sentimentalism. Whatever this is, it does not cause a splash, but fundamental to punk is dissonance. Kneeling In Piss sows their dissonance by dissecting accepted beliefs and opposing populist opinions.
“I see a lot of people making music that is largely apolitical, while maintaining an internet presence which seems "very political". Kneeling In Piss kind of does the inverse of that. I'm not using the Instagram page to tell people to go vote.”
Alex Mussawir’s lyrics wag their finger at “the uncertainty, not only of the future, but of the present moment.” He screams into his void about the empty space personalized for each one of us on “I Love My Echo Chamber”. The EP’s final track, “WWIII (Cont.),” argues that music’s most important act is to abort cleanliness, kill anything a computer could comprehend, and frame our humanity.
“I like the simplicity of the Tascam four track,” and that, “sometimes if you make a mistake there's nothing you can do about it,” states Alex. Tapes have to be switched out, rewound, and thought through. They leave their impression on the sounds being recorded and these tracks are bathed in that exact tape sound. However, beyond these mechanics of compression and tape hiss, the instrumentation lies totally exposed. Repeating in place, the musical structures twist in on themselves. Then some part freezes, tweaks, or snaps off and, all of a sudden, the song is somewhere else. The last thirty seconds of “I Am A Patsy!” and “Return, Return / Types of Cults” have that dogged forward momentum. They peel away to the rawest, best music being made in the Midwest right now.