Baltimore Soundstage Presents
TWRP, Rich Aucoin
In Her Own Words
Big Baby Scumbag
SEASON PASSES WILL NOT BE ACCEPTED FOR THIS SHOW
Hot Water Music
Live at Ottobar
Hot Water Music. Those three words describe more than just a band at this point, they describe a way of life. Since forming in Florida in 1994, the act have constantly reinvented themselves by combining elements of punk rock and post-hardcore over the course of eight full-lengths, countless vinyl releases and energetic live shows.
After grinding it out on the road for over two decades, Hot Water Music have finally reached a place where they are comfortable with who they are and the fact that they can operate the band on their own timeline without worrying about album cycles or endless tour schedules. “It's kind of cool to be still learning more about the band after twenty five years and the dynamic between the four of us is really fun and mellow in the sense that things aren't so hard anymore,” Black explains. “This milestone is really important to us because we never had any idea that the decisions we were making when we were younger would dictate the rest of our lives,” adds Ragan.
In an era that relies so heavily on quick-hit bands, there are very few things that are truly part of the subculture and not just the passing zeitgeist du jour. Closing in on three decades, The Spits have signified the crossroads between punk mayhem and well-honed songwriting, creating some of the most unhinged and anthemic tracks in underground music while standing tall enough to be uttered in the same breath as names like Jay Reatard, Dead Moon, Ty Segall and more.
The Spits are readying their highly anticipated VI, due May 1 via their own Thriftstore Records imprint. Recorded by Erik Nervous on cassette four track, the band’s new LP VI is ten hummable tracks, shrouded in chainsaw punk that mesh the wild showmanship of party-rock legends Van Halen and the leather-clad toughness and songwriting chops of the Misfits. Marking a “return to roots’’ approach for the LP, the band decided to record and write VI in the basements of Kalamazoo and Grand Rapids, Michigan over the course of several spurts of activity, each yielding a few new songs from a terrible drum kit with a literal thrift store guitar. “We’ve only been into an actual studio like three times,” admits Sean Wood. “I don’t think we’ve had one record that was recorded all in one place, this may be the closest thing. And for these songs we’d record a couple tracks, step away and go back at it later– sometimes weeks later. You know, take our time.”
Originally from Kalamazoo, Michigan, brothers Sean and Erin Wood formed The Spits with Lance Phelps in 1993 after realizing rock had gone limp, hated partying and just plain wasn’t fun anymore. And even though they didn’t even know how to play, the self-professed deliquents who grew up with New Orleans–style jazz and bluegrass “got cultured” and formed a band dead set on reminding the world how to have a good time. The Spits didn’t fit in with the punks or the garageheads when they landed in Seattle two years later, but carved out their own path with a series of empty open mic nights and parties under a bridge in the University District. Things started snowballing a year or two later with a good word from Mudhoney’s Steve Turner and a reputation for livewire gigs.
By the late 90s/early 00s, The Spits were almost as famous for rowdy shows and outrageous costumes as they were for their acid-fried melodic rippers. Releasing five LPs over the next decade-plus, in addition to EPs and 7-inches, the gospel of The Spits spread far and wide, expanding the band’s live legend further and further while giving more fans the chance to hear their uniquely catchy songwriting and punk mayhem. And while several band members have come and gone since their formation, including Wayne Draves and Josh Kramer, The Spits have never lost their edge, never lost their live chops and most importantly, never lost that sense of beer-soaked chaos.
Ty Segall, Charles Moothart and Chad Ubovich
Abandoning expectation. Abandoning reservation, consummation, resignation, and trite dictation. Instinct is all there is when it comes to the divination of harsh salvation. Segall, Moothart, and Ubovich are exploring all the blank-ations of what will be, or has always been, Fuzz II. Tried and true methods mixed with tongue twisting, teeth shattering, seizure-inducing stabs at the norm. Who knows … maybe that’s wrong. Maybe it’s all done. Played out. Maybe it’s not for want of new but for lack of old. But probably not. Bathe in the heat wave that is Fuzz, and regret nothing in the time freeze. Necessity is the mother of invention creation; and devolution stakes its claim in the past as it continues to bind itself to the future.
San Francisco, Los Angeles, heaven, hell, lunar fields, subterranean hallucinations, traffic jams, sleepless days, hazy nights, recollection or blind reflection. It is all there and so should be you. 2015 will bring a new surge of slime, fuzz, and otherwise bittersweet concoctions of earthly lettering. It will be heavy, chaotically controlled, softly serpentine, and blindingly barbaric. To translate the auditory from ethereal to saliva soaked semantics is to shatter a promise as it’s made.
In the meantime, Ty, Charles, and Chad walk on. It is what it is. Just like everything else. And if you don’t know, now you know.
This message brought to you by In the Red Educational Services … as it was before and is it will be again.