by Dan Goldin (@post_trash_)
If you have a pulse, there’s a good chance you’ve been feeling some anxiety recently. While it’s probably best not let that apprehension cripple you day and night, it’s the holidays and well, things don’t always feel so festive. There’s a lot to be concerned about, a lot of voices fighting to be heard, to exist. When it seems like we’re one step away from drowning in the sorrow of it all, we need to take a step away, to dive into something that both understands the world is crumbling but refuses to stand silent as society dismantles itself. Let Stress Positions fill that space, a band as brutal and raw as it is sociopolitically conscious and steadfast in unrelenting conviction. The Chicago quartet - comprised of Ben Rudolph, Russell Harrison, Jonathan Giralt, and Stephanie Brooks - play hardcore at the speed of light, their fury only matched by their willingness to distort their assault with subtle psychedelic shifts. Harsh Reality, released via Three One G Records (Fuck Money Planet B, Squid Pisser) is aware of the pitfalls that surround us, from police brutality, corporate greed, and ever present inequality, and Stress Positions are none too happy about any of it.
Formed at the height of the pandemic, they began life anew as Rudolph, Harrison, and Giralt’s former band C.H.E.W. came to an end. Having plowed and demolished their way into the heart of the hardcore underground in a relatively short time, it was a sizable loss, but the fuse kept burning and Stress Positions roared to life together with Brooks, whose presence and indignation matches the stampeding tempos and brute force. Stephanie Brooks isn’t a mere replacement, she’s a magnetic addition of smoldering outrage, well focused and always pointed. Following the release of last year’s brilliant Walang Hiya, Stress Positions come cascading back like an Arctic avalanche, burying listeners as we scramble to find solid ground. There’s plenty of nuance on Harsh Reality, but there’s little subtlety. Giralt’s skull crushing drums run at a near-constant sprint, a dexterous pummeling that lays the groundwork and then beats it into a trillion pieces. Rudolph’s brilliant riffs feel spidery one moment and corrosive the next, digging between sludge and piercing noise, feedback harnessed and developed.
For all the savage riffs and primal rhythms, Brooks keeps a thematic focus, invoking our present harsh reality with an unflinching scorn. Whether addressing a society hell bent on endless consumption or employment designed to keep the working class reliant on living check to check, you get the sense that the days of having the wool pulled over anyone’s eyes are a thing of the past. There’s an immediacy to Brooks’ lyrics, patience is no longer part of the plan. With oppression at the forefront, Stress Positions offer stark and defiant sentiments, calling to “Hunt them down, rob them blind, rise above the poverty line” on “How To Get Ahead”. It’s “eat the rich” for extreme times. On the impossibly frantic “Performative Justice” Brooks’ screams “stale rhetoric for the spotlight, an empty gesture from a world-class clown,” addressing exactly what the title suggests, though the lyric sheet is likely needed to pick that out.
Stress Positions are making hardcore the way it should be, boiling over with aggression at an unjust world where money is the only concern for so many. The record is blistering with contempt and acidic riffs from top to bottom, the guitars piercing while the drums and Russell Harrison’s gluey bass ignite upon impact. It’s a ruthless examination of unhealthy systems of corruption and greed, and they’re here to give it all a swift kick in the teeth.