7th Level Music

Recorded somewhat by accident in 2011, Protomartyr‘s debut album, No Passion All Technique, was originally supposed to be a 7″ single. As the story goes, however, they were convinced to record as much material as possible within the four hours of studio time they’d booked, and they ended up with twenty-one tracks. The result became a 2012 release of a post-punk modern classic that quickly sold out and is now a collector’s item.

Thankfully, the Detroit quartet reissued the album a few years ago (with bonus tracks if you get the digital download) for those of us who missed the boat in the last decade. It’s a fiery, raw, and sometimes humorous record fueled by a case of beer and Detroit attitude.

Greg Ahee‘s opening guitar riff of “In My Sphere” gets the record off to a jagged, wobbly start, and soon vocalist Joe Casey shows up to rant and rave before Scott Davidson and Alex Leonard come crashing in on bass and drums like bandits robbing a bank in an Old West town. The aggression continues on “Machinist Man,” a song about how the daily grind of Detroit factory work can drive a man to madness. “Hot Wheel City” is another post-punk poem about their hometown (“This city is a stray dog.”).

“3 Swallows” covers one of Protomartyr’s favorite subjects – barflies, lushes, and others who drown their sorrows in Hamm’s at the local watering hole. “I used to light my cigarette on the fire that you had in your eyes, and I was the king of hanging around with wastes of time.” Damn. “Free Supper” is a punk rager about people just wanting basic needs (food, freedom) while skirting the edge of entitlement.

The first time I played “Jumbo’s” (a song about barflies who keep returning to the same pub for booze and gambling despite always swearing they’ll never do it again) for a friend of mine, he replied, “That is some urgent shit.” The song has since become a favorite of the crowd at their live sets. “Ypsilanti” is about patients at the closed mental health asylum in Ypsilanti, Michigan.

“Too Many Jewels” creeps up to you (thanks to Davidson’s wicked bass line) and then Casey’s spoken / yelled street corner preacher-like vocals (and lyrics) give you a jump scare. “(Don’t You) Call Me Out My Name” is a fast, feral punk thrasher that blasts by you at near-light speed. “How He Lived After He Died” might be a precautionary tale of Casey wondering how he’s going to end up when he’s old. Will he be sitting in a chair, surrounded by books? Or will he be so alone that he can’t even bother to set his clock back for daylight savings time?

“Feral Cats” is even more bleak, with Casey warning of how society’s falling apart and most of us will just watch it happen and wait to pick up the scraps. The furious chorus almost blindsides you every time you hear it, even when you know it’s coming. “Wine of Ape” seems to be a story of Casey being confronted by a random stranger (who might be drunk or high) who tries to tell him a dirty joke, but Casey has no time for it and just wants to be left alone, walking away while the guy yells at him. “Principalities” could very well be the drunk guy’s ramblings, or Casey’s bottled up frustration with Detroit as it tried to deal with the aftermath of the burst housing bubble and thousands fleeing the city in search of better opportunities…leaving everyone else in their little neighborhoods to figure out how to manage.

The band has gone on record about how they didn’t expect their debut album to be this good. The title is a bit misleading. The album is full of passion, and the band’s techniques are in their early stages, which sound great.

Keep your mind open.

[It doesn’t take much technique to subscribe, you know.]