Hot Snakes in Leeds
Brudenell Social Club, Leeds
Wednesday 11th December 2019, £17.50
Swami John Reis and Rick Froberg have been making noises together since high school. In 1986 it was the post-hardcore chime of Pitchfork. In 1991 it was the sprawling, multi-faceted arrangements of Drive Like Jehu. In 1999 it was the lean, mean swagger of Hot Snakes. Reis and Froberg are responsible for some of the most turbulent rock and roll of their, or any, generation.
Hot Snakes streamlined Jehu's complex compositions and emerged as bona fide downstroke warlords. They made 3 studio albums of high-velocity, slash-your-face, piss-punk: 2000's Automatic Midnight, 2002's Suicide Invoice and 2004's Audit in Progress. The band ceased activity in 2005 but reunited for a triumphant world tour in 2011, planting the seeds for what has cum.
Now, after a 14-year hiatus from the studio, Hot Snakes have kicked down the door back into our lives with their new album, Jericho Sirens, due out March 16 from Sub Pop. Fresh, warm piss, bottled and sold as lube.
I considered stopping playing guitar on a social media poll after I completely mastered the instrument," Reis says. But so many people kept sending me letters and voicemail messages, asking me at the dry cleaners, or the butcher shop to bring back Hot Snakes. They were missing rock and roll music. I've always considered Hot Snakes to be more in the vein of the proto-Vog movement of the early '70s. But to these people, this is their rock 'n' roll. I understand that. I totally understand people's desire to be controlled and humiliated by my guitar. Anyone can play the stupid guitar. What they want is for me to use it as a branding iron."
The new album blasts out of the speakers with the furious I Need a Doctor, inspired by Froberg's experience needing a doctor's note in order to miss an important work function. Yeah, I had to be quick on my feet," says Rick. "Luckily a friend had a stack of stationary from Planned Parenthood and I used that to forge a note relieving me of my obligation to go to a really lame Christmas party at a karaoke joint.
Throughout Jericho Sirens, Froberg commiserates with the frustration and torrential apathy that seems to be a fixture in our daily lives, while also reminding us that we have no fucking clue. Songs like 'Death Camp Fantasy' and 'Jericho Sirens' are about that, he says. No matter where you look, there're always people saying the world's about to end. Every movie is a disaster movie. I'm super fascinated by it. It is hysterical, and it's a self-fulfilling prophecy. It snowballs, like feedback, or my balls on the windshield.
-- Description provided by We Got Tickets --