The Coathangers
Parasite
Reviewed by: Max Miller
In a seeming paradox, punk bands need to be deadly serious or hyper-irreverent. There is simply no middle ground. From either end of the spectrum, you can discuss the same themes — ennui, for example — but never in the same way. You either have to discuss how the machinery of capitalism shackles people to feelings of boredom and powerlessness by design or you have to write about how you’re too lethargic to stand up from your pile of discarded High Life cans and take a shower. Both modes are punk and neither is inherently better than the other (although I suspect each side’s adherents might disagree).
The Coathangers definitely skew toward the latter distinction. For more than a decade, the Atlanta-based three-piece have approached punk with a fun-loving attitude. The band name itself exemplifies their approach: They take a serious subject, like abortion rights, and subvert it with dark comedy. But a humorous nature should not imply that they put less effort into their songcraft than their no-nonsense counterparts. The Coathangers have steadily worked to include more melody and musicality in their raucous garage-punk over their past few releases. Their newly released EP, Parasite, however, finds them tossing all that high-minded hogwash in the garbage and returning to their roots. This is perhaps best exemplified by the EP’s runtime — five blistering tracks in a breezy twelve minutes.
The opening title cut is a rip-snorting three-chord exercise in traditional punk that just barely makes it past the minute-long mark. “Wipe Out” opens with a botched take before the band launches into a surf-pop barnburner where bassist Meredith Franco demands that a shitfaced antagonist apologize for his incorrigible behavior. “Captain’s Dead” boasts the EP’s hookiest chorus, while “Drifter” slows things down with a woozy seaside vibe. Parasite also features an alternate take of “Down Down,” a cut from the Coathangers’ 2016 LP Nosebleed Weekend. The album version has a bluesy indie vibe that feels perfect for NPR before abruptly transitioning toward breakneck punk. The take on Parasite feels a little rawer, with the guitars more upfront in the mix (and yet with the fast-paced bridge oddly absent).
Ultimately, Parasite feels like a fairly unnecessary release — a stopgap between albums, just like many EPs by established bands. Sure, it stands as a beacon of classic punk irreverence, but it feels inconsequential. Coathangers diehards will surely love a handful of new bangers, but they mostly feel like exercises in scratching the band’s hardcore itch before they put out another album of more developed songs. The Coathangers can be incredibly fun, but they’re just outright better when they flex their songwriting muscles more seriously. I guess maybe there is a middle ground after all.
Rating: Listenable
