I picture a crew of teenage boys with ripped pants and army surplus boots. I picture tattered pawn shop combo amps and a singer who froths as much as he screams. I picture quintessential US hardcore punk. I picture five boys, two who will go on to become skinheads (probably already flirting with the fashion), two who will drop completely out of punk before they can legally drink, and one who will go on to play in other influential bands. The story of CONVICT is one that I have fabricated, but one that could apply to countless American hardcore bands....but very few American hardcore bands drop an initial demo this fierce.
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Freedom vs. Convict
Hatred. Sure, maybe it's a much easier emotion to latch onto than others. It takes effort to have empathy. To have compassion. To put yourself in someone else's shoes. But, sometimes, the only way to put yourself in someone else's shoes is to smash them in the face with a tire iron, take off their shoes, and then walk around in them for a bit. This tape smashed my face with a tire iron. But they didn't even take my shoes for a spin. Ah, well. And I keep coming back for more. Thanks for the post!
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