In the narrow confines of the Slurp, one in a long line of warehouse units being utilized as a practice space and a spot for shows to happen in central AZ, I feel alone and alienated in my fascination and familiarity with people coming through from out of town when there is such an direct correlation to my own memories of being a 13 year old child, enamored with punk and a particular feeling and vibe, that of which I can only feel is accurate enough when specifically referring to what was happening in central NJ, in the mid to late 90's.
Such was the case, all the way back in May (it is now late November), when a New Orleans band came through, and everything about them was pointing me to other things that I remember and love, but above all else, there was this feeling that I would really like these people. Not in the sense that we would be friends if living in the same town, but definitely a group of people that I would be happy about sharing space with, and would come out to see play, often.
Perhaps it was mostly their singer and guitarist that drew me in so much, it's hard to say, seeing as it's been half of a year since then, but that's where the most easily remembered feelings come from. He, who sang, and had this specific manor to which he did so, moving across their side of the room while playing, having a good enough of a time while seeming to be accurately conveying whatever it was he was meaning to do, as serious or playful as it may have been.
And she, who I personally felt was the dominant force in the group, seemingly confident but not feeling obligated to play the part, and her riffs quite honestly carrying the majority of their songs though in their most memorable moments, all of which are present on their short but fulfilling 12" on Raw Sugar.
There are narrow confines of what one typically would try to label as a "surf" aesthetic to some of what she is playing, but I personally find that to be inaccurate and more so, misleading. I myself am not sure where that sort of feeling comes from, perhaps the cord progressions, or something else that I know not how to pay attention to, nor have any desire to examine. Regardless: Necro Hippies are playing a style of punk that could have occurred any time in the past 30 years, simply meaning that it is timelessly valid, and speaks to the inner youth that enjoys the periodic feedback intertwined with post-adolescent "immaturity".
And it doesn't do much but help that these songs are so surprisingly catchy, and perhaps to break from stereotypes and embracing the fringe: I'd say the first song is the least memorable for me, with the slower more lethargic and Flipper-like "Love Life" closing the A-side being one that more-so remains on my mind for the rest of the day after listening to it.
That being said, there is a bit of a dreary feeling throughout most of these songs, even when the tone is more upbeat and the pace is picked up quite a bit, but it's a tone that again, reminds me of my own youth, and bands that were playing with their own specific versions of soul, be it a group of straight-edge kids that wanted to embrace their community as a positive outlet, or a group of animal rights oriented stoners, who embodied two ends of my own personal spectrum. And, of course, all of the strange combinations that come between, though as strange as things were when I was young, and as bizarre as they are now, rare is it to find the sober stoner.
But from either end, it's a dreariness that is false. It's the kind that fills the people making it with energy and hope, and inspires the people watching with the same. The kind that prompts incidental protest songs, regardless of their specific lyrical content. The kind that finds you standing in front of their merch table and smiling, looking at the paste-on cover art of a stick-figure kneeling before a tombstone which reads: "have fun" and has a drooping flower on it, while a cloud flings down rain on the character, who despite being simple lines, is emotive enough.
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