It was like playtime for hardcore punk fans.
Stabbed In Back, an Albuquerque band that signed with a national label, got together for its first show since the band broke up four years ago.
In recent years, there’s been an alarming trend among male vocalists who wail, scream and whine, emotionally bleeding all over their audience. Many men in music are getting so in touch with their feminine side that they’re beginning to sound like girls.
That said, Stabbed In Back gave a refreshing performance that redeemed male musicians. The band didn’t go to the level some hardcore groups go to where the anger and violence expressed is gratuitous and exaggerated.
Rather, the group explored different facets of heated emotions in a genuine way. It was not overdone or forced; it felt inspired by the members’ personal lives and relayed in a way that an audience can understand, regardless of where the anger came from.
Some bands come off as threatening when roaring at an audience about their dark desires and brutal realities. This felt more akin to performance catharsis that left the audience relieved of its anger, releasing it instead of provoking and amplifying it and priming an audience for belligerent skirmishes.
Looking around the room after the last song, there were tired smiles. For all the jumping, slamming and moshing, this music wasn’t necessarily violent. It encouraged the audience to let it all out and have fun with it.
The band played hard and fast, the beats working together like a mad train that charged through the room.
The drummer had quite a task; keeping the high-flying beat steady — his teeth clenched so hard in concentration that he looked as though he may bite his tongue off.
Much of the band’s appeal came from its crisp rhythm. Almost every head bobbed along hypnotically as if attached to the sonic waves emanating throughout the room. Best of all, the band just got back together in September.
Many hardcore bands tend to be repetitive, but Stabbed In Back made use of variations in tempo, mood and sound in each song, which helped save the songs from sounding the same. Variations transitioned smoothly and weren’t overwhelming and causeless.
The band played at Gold Manor, a house that volunteers its living room for performances. The setting was a great opportunity for longtime fans to interact with the band, specifically its vocalist, who shared the mic with the crowd throughout the show.
The band simply showed up as itself, not dressed to look the part, not sounding how it thinks people want it to sound. It was exactly what you get from an Albuquerque band: disconnection from the mainstream.
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