Latest Article|September 3, 2020|Free::
Making Grown Men Cry Since 1992
Friday, April 1; Launchpad (All ages, 8 p.m.): If being talked about, argued over, dually worshipped and reviled still matter for rock bands, The Locust may well hold the honored distinction of being the most incendiary punk band of the last 10 years. Whether being chastised for selling out to Epitaph imprint Anti (home also to Merle Haggard and Nick Cave) or lambasted for their dubious choices in merchandise (die-cast belt buckles and multi-use compact mirrors), the San Diego four-piece tends to stir up controversy at every turn. And whether you happen to find them annoyingly gimmicky or downright incredible, bassist and singer Justin Pearson—through his work with Struggle, Swing Kids and Crimson Curse—damn near defined screamo for a generation of late '90s romulans. While that may be good or bad depending on your particular shade of hair dye, The Locust have inarguably left their ugly mark on turn of the century indie music. Half a decade later, the forebearers of Mooged out, no-wave powerviolence are still trudging along the tour circuit, maintaining their singularly claustrophobic, brutally vicious and unapologetically odd vision of future music. Friday night they'll crash and convulse through the five movements from their new symphony EP Safety Second, Body Last, their most complex and accomplished work to date.