Ride the Dead Low Tide
by Brian Brown
I was a huge fan of Murder City Devils, like a lot of people (I still see their t-shirts on emo kids way too young to have seen them, and I get all nostalgic). I saw them play live a bunch of times. My favorite gig was probably in this little shitty bar in Nowhere, Ohio. This local “punk” band opened for them, and their lead singer pretended he was bad by affecting an accent and never washing his hair whilst spitting beer. It was him babbling and posing with some dude in a stocking cap on meathead rhythm guitar… hilarious. So they stopped playing (finally), and Murder City set up. The Devils were wearing all black, sporting chain wallets and trucker gear before all this became way cliché and dorky. (When I saw them open for At the Drive In later on, I remember some hipster mocking their outfits with “Do I have to wear black to join the band?” etc.)
Their whole onstage shtick was that they mostly looked like rock ‘n’ roll bad asses that could give a fuck and were all tatted up and drunk, but their singer Spencer appeared to be a lost nerd, definitely not in the band. I first saw them opening for Lonesome Crowded West-era Modest Mouse, and I recall Spencer coming out in a jean jacket looking confused and nervous (playing into this completely, a la Andy Kaufman’s Foreign Man), but then seeing a change occur and hearing this Danzig-ish howl coming out of nowhere. (At this gig they further shocked the crowd, and promoter, by lighting the drums and stage on fire. My skin was singed and I became a total fan.)
Anyway, back to the Ohio gig… so, this unwashed punk guy starts pulling on Spencer’s mic cord and hitting his feet while laughing, being all jock, picking on the smallest dude in the band. The organ player (awesome to have organs in rock bands, by the way) kept mocking “Mr. Punk Rock over there.” Remember, this was backwoods Ohio, and the crowd was apparently bigger fans of the punk guy, so people were shouting out “fags” and the like in between the Devils’ crushing blasts of rock—there were even hunters mixed in and shit. The band was pissed. They stopped playing and Spencer, all smiles, said, “Who here hates faggots? (vigorous applause) Well, we’re a faggot rock ‘n’ roll band, and if you don’t like it get the fuck out.” He then proceeded to make out with the guitarist full on (tongues wagging) to prove it. At that point half the room recoiled and cleared out as the Devils tore through two more songs (best I’d ever seen them play), and then got the hell out of Dodge.
I was pretty bummed when they broke up. So I was stoked when I heard about this new project Dead Low Tide with mostly the same team plus the addition of bass monster Mike Kunka of godheadSilo. The last tour of Murder City I saw was totally packed and you could tell they had “made it” just as they were breaking up (again crowd drama as another idiotic punk poseur—one for each town—tackled them). When I showed up to see Dead Low Tide with friends the venue was fucking empty. It was particularly depressing as the club was allowing this high school bar band to play extra Dave Matthews covers because they’d drawn all their friends in. The cool thing was that even though there were only about 10 people left after this bar band finished (and I brought four of the 10), the Dead Low Tide people went for it 200 percent. Spencer set up his mic stand on the floor standing inches from the audience. I guess these dudes embodied, for me, the spirit of punk I was always reading about in books and was normally only experiencing through OG dudes like Mike Watt or whoever.
Anyway, I bought their 7-inch at the show, which was pretty perfect. Then they broke up. Their full-length album was released months and months after their dissolution, which is a great way for no one to ever hear it. Thing is, it’s a great record. I hadn’t 
thrown it on in ages, but when I did recently I found it to be more than worthy. The bass is mixed a bit low compared to the live experience (dude had amps STACKED), but still slays. I think Spencer’s lyrics are fuckin’ stellar while gut level: “I was just thinking about all the words I shouldn’t have thrown away” or “They’re fishing with barbed hooks out there / So I’m going to button my lip / And I’m gonna keep my mouth shut,” or my personal favorite, “Down through the ages / They’re just trying to keep us broke.”
The opener, “Barrel Vault”, is the most depressing to me because it is so goddamn perfect and embodies how great their second album could’ve been. The bass and guitar straddle an epic line over the howl of “Touch me like you know me.” Some of Spencer’s lyrics even got pretty abstract and weird on this one, which wins in my opinion. The band hums like an oceanic machine. They stacked the first song of this album to knock out anyone with a slight appreciation for metal who bothered to listen… anyone, that is, who came to drink beer and rock without irony. Dead Low Tide is that rare band that just goes for it and doesn’t try to be cute or winning. They did what they did, fuck it. Recently, I was hoping some of that magic would transfer onto Spencer’s newest band, Triumph of Lethargy Skinned Alive to Death (great name!), but no such luck. When I saw them play that idea was killed right when Spencer asked for more flange and echo on his vocals, as if to hide them. What the fuck?! Maybe they’ll get it together though...
Watch: Murder City Devils [at youtube.com]
» Previously: Hall of Fame My Ass
