by Matt Watton (@brotinus)
It takes a lot of chutzpah for a band to dub themselves the progenitors of a new genre, but Seattle’s Black Ends are up to the task, trading in what they call “gunk pop.” What is gunk pop, you ask? It’s wad of bubble gum pop stuck to the bottom of your well-worn Blundstone boots. A sideways inversion of pop-punk, gunk pop drinks deep from the Pacific Northwest ethos of bluesy, heavy grunge and raucous, righteous Riot Girl. It also harkens back to classic, acid-bathed blues rock that would only later be called ‘heavy metal.’ And it is indeed poppy – never saccharine sweet, but still catchy and sticky and bouncy. Black End’s debut is called Psychotic Spew and that is exactly what gunk pop is: a heady sputum of tight, in-your-face rock.
A powerful trio (though I wouldn’t say a power trio), Black Ends is led by guitarist and vocalist Nicolle Swims. Her guitar playing is skronky in the best way, at times played clean with a ferocity that sounds distorted, at other times blown out yet crisp with tactical shredding and warm fuzz. This guitar sound is the backbone of a Black Ends song, which often begins as if a singer-songwriter ditty, lulling you into a false sense of security before lashing out with a hidden intensity. “My Own Dead” starts with an almost country twang over a minor chord, Swims’ bluesy, throaty voice intoning over it about death – and then the overdrive hits and the band burst in. Chugging but still melodic, the song crescendoes to a prog-psych bridge, with riff on top of riff, culminating in some unhinged guitar soloing.
The album is a collection of songs that drive and pulsate with an indignant, understated energy. “Suppin’ on Strange,” with its herky-jerky starts and stops and tempo shifts, slams you up against the wall and eludes your grasp. Bassist Ben Swanson’s meandering fretwork constantly propels the groove and almost steals the spotlight, as on “Bent” when his deft runs around the neck ride the bleeding edge between chaos and control. Drummer Billie Paine is similarly ear-catching, with a melodic and powerful style – flurries of fills, pounding toms, and tactful cymbal taps. Songs like “Pour Me” and “Black’s Lullaby” are languid, vampiric, and slithering, as Swims’ voice moans and oozes out in anguish. Her voice evokes some of the great female ‘90s leads – Courtney Love, Kristin Hersh, No Doubt-era Gwen Stefani – but also has the gravity and gravel to hold its own alongside Mark Lanegan or Sabbath-era Ozzy. The overall sound of the band creates a distinctive atmosphere, but one that is firmly rooted and self-assured.
Though only newly dubbed, we can find “gunk pop” bands in the near and distant past – Throwing Muses, Screaming Females, Warehouse, Bleach-era Nirvana, early Blue Oyster Cult. Black Ends taps into their forebearers and synthesizes a sound that is uniquely their own. Off-kilter but catchy, atmospheric but direct, Seattle but universal – gunk pop is what the world needs right now, and Black Ends are here to deliver.