by Jean-Michel Lacombe (@lacombe_jm)
On Diaspora Problems, Soul Glo's first LP for Epitaph Records following a string of increasingly daring EPs over the last several years, the Philadelphia hardcore punk band is taking its largest swing to date. At once manic, deeply affecting and celebratory, this is Soul Glo at the height of their powers. The album opens with vocalist Pierce Jordan screaming "Can I live?" over and over, as repetition transforms the phrase from emphatic plea to assertive declaration. A tweak to the opening line of Swedish punks Refused's immortal "New Noise," shot through with an urgency only those who've lived under threat of police brutality and systemic violence can conjure.
Yes, Soul Glo's music is political. A band composed primarily of people of color, with lyrics that speak angrily, thoughtfully of the Black experience, operating within a largely homogenous punk and hardcore community, in a country that systematically does everything it can to violently uphold that homogeny, will inherently create political art. But to only speak of Diaspora Problems' achievements in those terms is reductive of its staggering emotional resonance and poetic plainspokenness. "John J," the album's sole nod to Soul Glo's screamo origins, may be a riveting evisceration of white liberal allyship with the all-timer line "between torching PDs and taking knees, oh my god, I choose the former." It first grounds the narrative in candid descriptions of Jordan's struggles with mental health and suicidal ideation. Both polemical and diaristic, the result is transfixing, culminating in a tempestuous build-up that showcases the throat-shredding screams of guest vocalists Kathryn Edwards (of Nashville rippers Thirdface) and Zula Wildheart.
Throughout Diaspora Problems, Soul Glo nimbly fold their vast influences into muscular hardcore songs. From the ska-influenced brass fanfare on "Thumbsucker," to the syncopated drums evocative of Afro-Latino reggaeton offshoot dembow that anchor "Coming Correct Is Cheaper," there's a joyful omnivorousness to be found here when it comes to genre. While hip-hop has always been part of Soul Glo's toolbox, "Driponomics" is the band's finest foray into blown-out trap, an infectious trunk rattler about the glories of flipping designer streetwear to escape poverty that shines even brighter due to a standout verse from Philly rapper Mother Maryrose.
In terms of the hardcore influences on display, Soul Glo continue to broaden their horizons. Opener "Gold Chain Punk (whogonbeatmyass?)" sees Jordan howling the song's parenthetical over a colossal, knuckle-dragging single chord chug breakdown - easily the moshiest thing the band has committed to record. There is some 70s proto-punk both in the snotty, shit-talking vocal delivery on fiery call-to-action "We Wants Revenge," and in now ex-member Ruben Polo's trebly, seasick guitar riff that drives album highlight "(Five Years And) My Family." The latter features Jordan's most intimate set of lyrics, detailing the difficulty of escaping cycles of abuse, and of learning to trust and seek comfort in others while going through recovery. "Age old omertàs chain us in iron-clad silent agreements," he seethes, before relenting "Then I learned some family secrets and that trust gained gave me reason to share with them." All of this is delivered in Jordan's near unintelligible, breathless tumble of words - and while a lyric sheet may be necessary to decipher the specific meaning of these songs, the emotion and vitality of the message is immediate.
A few months removed from its March release, it doesn't feel like hyperbole to call Diaspora Problems an instant classic. It positions Soul Glo as one of the most important bands of their time, capable of delivering revolutionary sentiment and heartfelt introspection in equal measure, all through furious, dazzling hardcore that constantly pushes against the boundaries of that genre descriptor.
"I know my dream, I know my Mom's dream (...) I know it's power and I can't die before it's unearthed," Jordan sneers towards the end of first single "Jump!! (Or Get Jumped!!!)((by the future))," and this life-affirming defiance embodies Diaspora Problems' power and acts as its beating heart. In the face of overwhelming systems arrayed against them, Soul Glo insist on ensuring their screams are heard.