Here it is, finally: my last blog post from 2023. We're only, what? five months in? I honestly struggle to remember anything from this time and, considering I took no notes, this one's going to be a fucking mess. Still, gotta show respect to flag's prized mincers. This one's going to be quite a bit shorter. I also might be slowing down on this blog soon, if I allow myself to. Send me stuff to [ fosterhildingmusic@gmail.com ] or DM me on Instagram. No, I don't have any pictures from this show. Grow up.
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| photos courtesy of Bailey. |
I remember, at the very least, a warm belly of alcohol underneath three layers--cold feet and canvas shoes slipping on the ice that had just begun to crawl across the streets. I'd been to Skinny House a few times and rarely ever stayed a full show apart from this one. Somehow, this was also my first time seeing Foisopod. Kids filed in through the front door and packed in, body-to-body like sardines. There were a few safe spots where you could see the band and avoid twirling bodies: The stairs, the kitchen, and a corner directly across from the bands themselves. Against the gravitational pull of the tall sweaty bodies, though, you're lucky if you stayed in one place.
Foisopod is the only group I've ever seen that attempts to match the energy of the audience, and not that of themselves. In the midst of their crushing improvisation, they feed off of every two-stepper and their wild passing eyes for each riff and growl. Cohen's guitar is dense and meaty, and one of the only Les Pauls I've seen in local hardcore--he and Nathan are injected into each other's veins, in sync with a masterful beat down simplicity that works to force every body into a blender of their noise.
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| photo stolen from band's Instagram. |
I think the last time Foisopod was featured on this blog, they had announced they were taking an indefinite break. Thankfully, though, after thought and harassment (kidding), they are making their slow return to the forefront of Flagstaff hardcore. I am constantly impressed in their evolution and their constant will to prove themselves far further along in their musical journey every time I see them. Keep an eye on Foisopod. Stream M.P.C.
Layers were off and on and off again between the heat of the stagnant room and the icy air outside it. By the end, all that was left was my t-shirt, stuck to my body by sweat not entirely my own.
Hernia brings nothing but a pound of flesh and hate to every show. Between Ray’s crushed, yet undefeated ripping guitar and Daniel's gutting bass, Trevor's fast, nonstop hands held them in a thin bear hug of mashing and snare popping. There's something so satisfying in the dichotomy between Ray’s bellowing monster snarl and Daniel's wailing--every time Daniel hops up to pierce ears with it, faces buckle alongside.
I have high hopes for the future of hardcore in Flagstaff. Every time I see a show at Skinny House or with some of these killers, I always see so many young and inspired faces. I think Hernia and any previous iterations of their band have such a huge hand in that, and it makes me happy that they can touch the anxious fingers of Flagstaff's youth to mash them into drop tunings and crushing beats. If nothing else, it's just fun. Stream Chopped N Screwed.
I know it was a short one... OH WELL. Send me hate mail. I need a break. Keep doing the good things and the music shits. Thanks for reading.
-Foster
See Hernia with Gutsfuck, Consequence, Sakura, Putrid Existence, Bottom Surgery, and Introvert on April 26th at Ded Club.
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