by Chris Polley (@qhrizpolley)
Mall punk, egg punk, horror punk, skate punk, anarcho punk, synth punk, art punk, cowpunk, the list goes on. Whether derived from memes or geography, speed or philosophy, the debut EP Cubey from Chicago four-piece Tension Pets sure is somewhere in that messy venn diagram, but what makes their sound notable isn’t where it fits in the subgenre landscape—it’s the fact that it’s arresting, blistering, and just straight-up wall-to-wall sweat and melody. Featuring members of other Chicago DIY scene-stealers The Hecks, The Christmas Bride, and Pussy Foot (just to name a few), the quartet has effortlessly cobbled together elements from all over the map both past and present to craft something immediate and exciting out of pieces both old and new. Their record’s short twelve minute run time belies its timeless intensity and power.
In just six tracks, the band manages to pack in a wide spectrum of barn-burners, accessible and anthemic as well as sonic wrecking balls furious and strange. The most striking of the bunch, or at least for someone that leans more Ric Ocasek than Mark Mothersbaugh when it comes to new/no wave icons, is the big feelings epic “Magnolia (She’s Back).” Opening with some angular, call-and-response instrumentation, you just know the chorus is going to bring the house down as soon as the whirring synth line comes in. The whole affair is constructed like the interlocking gears of a Swiss watch, ebbing and flowing like an arena rock pyrotechnic with a fuse the exact length of an onlooker’s anticipation. Sitting comfortably in the wheelhouse of modern emo-punk agitators Diarrhea Planet or Nervous Dater, I could listen to this will-they-won’t-they tragic pop song with frayed edges on repeat for the rest of the year without complaining.
The lead single, however, is “On the Outside,” which also rip-roars through speakers but with a snotty fuck-all attitude and a mission to get in and out within 91 seconds that somehow still authentically complements the more heart-on-its-sleeve nature of the aforementioned jam. With drummer Wendy Zeldin taking lead vocals (everyone’s voice is everywhere on this EP, whether out front or in the back, contributing to the raucous frenzy), this one feels very much of a certain era—it could easily soundtrack an early montage in a Kathleen Hanna biopic—and yet captures the magic of the rebellious original period of punk without just attempting to ape it. The urgency in Zeldin’s yelps and Davey Hart’s piercing, affected guitar is enough to turn whatever room in which you’re listening to it into a damp and dingy basement in nearly any late 20th or early 21st century decade.
Distant ironic shticks in punk music are a dime a dozen, but I’ll be damned if Tension Pets don’t do this well too. “Mansion” is as Devo-inspired as the band gets, but it’s also equal parts Six Finger Satellite and The Screamers, completing the trifecta of that combined 70s, 80s, and 90s retro sound. It’s gritty and angry, yes, but it’s also performative in a way that is both self-aware and delightfully indulgent, whether it’s the robotic verse delivery or layered speak-shouting refrain. It’s several degrees away from ‘Weird’ Al, but it winks just enough to let the listener in on the fun, encouraging jumping and letting go more than postmodern snobbery or silly parody.
The punk influences run deep on this short-player, and yet Tension Pets blast through with so much vivacity that the listener is barely given enough time to parse through the energy. Repeat listens are thus rewarded, but I have a feeling that I may have already listened more closely than intended. The aging punk in me instead wants to just turn it up, thrash around, and leave all the language and labels behind.