By Kyle Butler
Culo’s first album, “My Life Sucks and I Could Care Less,” is the kind of record that I want to show every old dude who has ever told me that punk was better in the ’80s—the kind of record I want to stuff in the hands of some boring, Beatles-worshipping guy who thinks he knows what punk is just because he listened to Black Flag back in the day. Well, listen up, guy: Punk didn’t die in the ’80s, you just stopped listening.
Since its first EP, aptly named after the great Ramones song, “My Brain Is Hanging Upside Down,” Culo has been one of the most talked-about bands on the D.I.Y. hardcore scene. After a handful of great 7-inches that Deranged Records anthologized on “Life Is Vile… And So Are We” (2011), Culo recorded and released its first full-length album “My Life Sucks and I Could Care Less,” a blisteringly fast and crushing record that lives at the intersection of modern hardcore and the Ramones. Packed with 20 songs in just under 20 minutes, the album is non-stop face-slamming hardcore punk.
Culo kicks off the record with “Gestapo Boots of a Mutant,” which features a 35-second long electronic instrumental intro. The intro is a collage of industrial synthetic instrumentation, and it sets the tone for the whole record. The out-of-tune, seemingly random inflection and pitch of the synthesized drum kicks let the listener know that whatever this is, it’s deranged, and the intro builds anticipation much like the extended drum beat that leads into Bad Brains’ 1982 song “The Big Takover” or the long, sweeping guitar intro to Black Flag’s “My War.”
Without even a second to fade out, the intro is interrupted by throbbing, heavy guitar riffs, and from there on, the intensity doesn’t let off. Culo’s fast, punishing sound is back and tighter than ever, with two guitar players and no bass lending to its signature treble-driven sound. The album is a giant, crushing wall of simply layered power chords played at breakneck speed. Think of the Ramones’ iconic self-titled album, but recorded and played right after huffing a whole can a spray paint, then lighting it on fire and throwing it into the nearest cop car.
Many hardcore bands playing intensely fast, catchy songs; what makes Culo’s sound stand out are the breaks. The blisteringly fast hardcore is segmented and broken up by simple, tight drum fills or high-pitched guitar riffs that wail through the wall of sound. On the track, “I Was Supposed to be an Abortion,” the heavy drum beats, thrusting energy of the power chords and growling, gravelly voice of Culo’s lead singer John (“Shoulda been aborted! Abortion! Abortion!” he yells) all are punctuated and highlighted by the short, quick pauses between bridges, choruses and verses. These breaks are long enough to let the intensity of the song to sink in, but not so long that we can take a breath and calm down. The world hasn’t given Culo a break, so why would Culo give us one?
Twenty songs of straight-ahead hardcore punk can be taxing sometimes, but what makes “My Life Sucks and I Could Care Less” so listenable is the surprising diversity of the songs. “Sick Sick Sick” seems like a pretty standard Culo song until the halfway point, when a shaky tambourine perched atop a hi-hat enters along with the a synthesizer taking the place of the lead guitar, frantically hammering notes away in a catchy, fast, rock ’n’ roll sound, like the high trebly clang of Jerry Lee-Lewis’ piano.
The world of “My Life Sucks and I Could Care Less” is vile, mutated, and depraved, fueled by inhalant and the radioactive violence of military, suburban and urban life. At a time when music is highly commercialized, prosperous, profitable, airbrushed and beautiful, Culo is ugly as hell, and this record stares you in the eyes with snot dripping down its face, screaming, “Fuck you, don’t tell me what to do!” So when some old guy who thinks Kurt Cobain was punk or that contemporary punk lives in Black Flag reissues, tell him to fuck off and stuff this record in his hands.