Honeys
The Allentown, Pa.–based Pissed Jeans let their sound breathe a bit more on their fourth album, 2013\'s *Honeys*. GRAMMY®-nominated producer Alex Newport gives the band\'s aggressive bite more depth in spots, while other moments (\"Something About Mrs. Johnson\") are as lo-fi and nasty as the group has ever been. \"Male Gaze\" has the off-balance lurch of the best hardcore punk, sounding in part like the legendary \'80s New Jersey hardcore band Bedlam. Just like their neighbors in Bedlam, Pissed Jeans sing about the trials and tribulations of the suburban workplace and do so with passionate hatred flowing through the rhythms and riffs. \"Chain Worker,\" \"Cafeteria Food,\" \"Cat House,\" and \"Health Plan\" are no more and no less than what they seem: screams of rage from workers staring down a dead end. Catchy choruses occasionally venture out of the chaos (\"Bathroom Laughter\"), but this is mostly the brutal damning noise that\'s been driving punk bands since the days of Black Flag.
On the Philly-via-Allentown band's fourth LP, Pissed Jeans trust in the power of honesty in Matt Korvette's lyrics while dropping the musical defense mechanisms that may once have kept listeners at a distance. It's headbanging music that allows you to nod feverishly in agreement.
On the Philly-via-Allentown band's fourth LP, Pissed Jeans trust in the power of honesty in Matt Korvette's lyrics while dropping the musical defense mechanisms that may once have kept listeners at a distance. It's headbanging music that allows you to nod feverishly in agreement.
Like clockwork, Pennsylvania skronk-rock band Pissed Jeans released three albums—one every two years—culminating in 2009’s superbly sludgy King Of Jeans. Then the clock broke. Luckily, the outfit’s garbled, self-degraded noise largely transcends such pencil-pushing notions as timeliness or relevance. Honeys, Pissed…
Like clockwork, Pennsylvania skronk-rock band Pissed Jeans released three albums—one every two years—culminating in 2009’s superbly sludgy King Of Jeans. Then the clock broke. Luckily, the outfit’s garbled, self-degraded noise largely transcends such pencil-pushing notions as timeliness or relevance. Honeys, Pissed…
When it’s not a really scary record, it’s a really fun one, and most of the time, it’s both.
When it’s not a really scary record, it’s a really fun one, and most of the time, it’s both.
Pennsylvania's Pissed Jeans are a rare breed of hardcore punk band: Beneath the pummeling, distorted surface-level din of…
Pennsylvania's Pissed Jeans are a rare breed of hardcore punk band: Beneath the pummeling, distorted surface-level din of…
Their fourth album proper, their third for Sub Pop, sees Pissed Jeans slowing the tempo in places, delving even deeper into the sludgy, paranoid punk rock that they explored on Hope For Men and King of Jeans. There are fast-paced tracks – Bathroom Laughter and Romanticize Me both have the energy of hardcore punk, but with deceptively polished lead guitar riffs and complex bass. But it's the plodding, unhinged, epic dirtiness of Chain Worker and the artful mundanity of Cafeteria Food ("Go ahead, you can use the microwave / It's an excellent kitchen tool") where the band shine.
Their fourth album proper, their third for Sub Pop, sees Pissed Jeans slowing the tempo in places, delving even deeper into the sludgy, paranoid punk rock that they explored on Hope For Men and King of Jeans. There are fast-paced tracks – Bathroom Laughter and Romanticize Me both have the energy of hardcore punk, but with deceptively polished lead guitar riffs and complex bass. But it's the plodding, unhinged, epic dirtiness of Chain Worker and the artful mundanity of Cafeteria Food ("Go ahead, you can use the microwave / It's an excellent kitchen tool") where the band shine.
Pissed Jeans' fourth album plays like the sound of a herd of buffalo charging from one end of a string of subway cars to another, and while they may slow their pace occasionally, cringing passengers know better than to climb down off their seats.
Pissed Jeans' fourth album plays like the sound of a herd of buffalo charging from one end of a string of subway cars to another, and while they may slow their pace occasionally, cringing passengers know better than to climb down off their seats.