New Bomb Turks

You won’t hear any arguments about the history of punk at a New Bomb Turks show, because it’s never England vs. New York, but obviously Ohio. From the line of Rocket from the Tombs, Pere Ubu, Dead Boys, and Pagans, the Turks revitalized that wild fast sound in the ‘90s for kids with dirty shirts and holes in their jeans; hold the safety pins and mohawks, get to the point. In their birthplace of Columbus, OH, they are hometown heroes, complete with a singer who looks like a wavy headed square jaw Superman, a whirlwind of activity on stage frequently grabbing air and soaring, his legs tucked neatly underneath.

They are matched in energy by encouraged crowds, honestly I’ve never witnessed a lethargic audience for this band. Over to the left everybody’s favorite bartender is crowd surfing over pavement, over to the right the singer is stealing sunglasses off the tallest kid in the crowd while everyone screams “NO HEROES NO LEADERS NO ARTISTS NO GODS!” And the barrier of sound is not broken until the time comes for the last song of the set, Defiled, where the exhausted kids dance until the frontman crouches over to the ground with his finger to his mouth…

It’s the secret signal, that tells you to lean and tumble over your friends and fall down on the floor that is now as disheveled as you have come to be yourself, Jim Weber’s guitar plus Matt Reber’s bass reducing in volume while even the drummer Sam Brown pulls back a tiny bit for a while…but then the crescendo, where Davidson the maestro directs the crowd; tired of work, tired of bills, tired tired of semi-adult responsibilities, to hit the sky themselves. What happens next is a sudden intensity as the band kicks back in and follows a mass movement of jumping consorting bodies in the sky, all at once the pit goes off, their last chance. -Peppermint Raygun

LIMITED TO 300. Printed on Bella Canvas soft cotton tees. Ladies’ sizes run small.