No Friends – Self-Titled

No Friends is a collaborative project by some of the most relevant names in hardcore, thrash, and old school punk.   Thrashcore staple Municipal Waste’s Tony Foresta, garage punk upstart Virgins’ Sam Johnson, and Richard Minimo and Alex Goldfarb of Gatorface all converge for a self titled full length that could only be described as one hell of a house party.

Each band member’s origin takes turn shaping the band’s fairly unique sound.  Foresta contributes his trademark thrashy vocals and elevated throaty cries.  With Foresta at the helm one might expect that the Municipal Waste influence would consume and dominate the others.  But aside from Foresta’s unmistakable delivery, the instrumentation follows a far more melodic path than anything typically connected with Municipal Waste.  Even so, rest assured; with Virgins and Gatorface as influences, the album is far from a “clean” listen.

Chord choices in particular feature disjointed and unorthodox cuts pushing the boundaries of melody.  Much of Johnson’s guitar work draws influence from punk legends The Descendents, borrowing those unmistakable chord progressions that sporadically hop around ignoring convention.  But those with an ear for something safer needn’t worry; No Friends continually flirts with melody.  For example, in “Never Ending Fight,” after several frantic verses an almost Bad Religion-like chorus of supporting vocals harmonizes with the previously discordant take.

But like all destructive domestic gatherings, No Friends comes complete with both highs and lows.  It’s a love hate relationship really – one second they’re hitting all the right notes (even when they’re not), and the next they make you feel as if your ears are being physically violated.  When tracks like the unrelenting, vengeful  “Black Hearse” surface they feel like what a raccoon clawing rabidly at your face might sound like in song.  But then moments later you find yourself tapping your toe to the likes of “Material Addiction” and its infectious bassline, and you start thinking to yourself: “wait a second, this is good!”

For all of No Friends’ chaos, a raw, energetic enthusiasm pulls the album through.  I tried listening to something else immediately after, but found my brain far too exhausted.  Between all of the constantly realigning influences and (non)melodies, No Friends feels lot longer than its sub-twenty minute run time might suggest.  Even so, fans of 80’s hardcore, thrash, or even melodic punk will want to check out this killer collaboration.