Society’s Parasites – 1753

When I last ran across bilingual Los Angeles thrash punkers Society’s Parasites, they were mingling with their Czech language counterparts PNS for a shared split – a split that failed on many levels.  It was monotonous, indecipherable, and PNS took their criticisms too far for comfort.  Society’s Parasites on the other hand, while more targeted in their attacks, left less of an impression, so little in fact that I had all but forgotten my previous encounter.  After listening to their latest full length, 1753, I have a feeling I’ll be writing a similar intro paragraph in future encounters.

Society’s Parasites is at best an energetic, and at worst boring take on thrash punk.  The group has always boasted all the speed and frantic force necessary for getting a crowd of messy thrashers moshing, but take that same set, scribe it to disc, and there’s nothing worth getting excited over.  The band clearly knows how to thrash, but that’s about it.  In fact, each of the twenty-four tracks blend into the last, retaining identical time sequences and core riff choices.  In the rare occurrence that the band alters tempo or experiments with discernable intros or exits, as per “Tiempos Dificiles” (a track actually originating on thePNS split) a blanket of strained throaty bursts (three of the four members comprise vocal duties) steal the focus, giving listeners little chance of hearing more than a repetitive flood of vocal sameness.

And then there’s the minute run times.  Thrash has always been known for keeping things quick and simple, but last I checked, song divisions implied difference.  Case and point, “Chuco” and “666,” two songs running back to back with a combined run time of thirty-nine seconds that could easily fit smack in the middle of any prior track.  These aren’t substantial or noteworthy in any way, merely serving as textbook examples of inconsequential filler.

The most frustrating part of 1753 comes smack in the middle of the twenty-six minute album in the form of a minute and a half “intermission.”  Contrary to anything else on the album, this brief moment is both well rounded and interesting.  The tempo revs up, chugs along, and marches on with a fantastic display of technical speed in what must be the album’s only formal solo.  Sadly, no other moments even come close.

With so many other exciting thrash bands already out there (ie. Municipal Waste, Outbreak), Society’s Parasites remains a tough sell – with 1753 certainly not working in their favour.  As the intermission reveals, there’s some promise hidden beneath this monotonous front, but the band has yet to translate their ability across a full album.  And based on their track record, such a move may be more of a wish than a possibility.