Zeke

Dirty Sanchez (Epitaph)
by Jon Sarre

I think if I hadn’t made a promise to change my shitty outlook on life, I would like the new Zeke record more. I think if I hadn’t vowed for the umpteenth time to be “nicer to people,” this twenty-odd minute screamingly loud metallic knockout wouldn’t come off as so claustrophobic. If I hadn’t been making an effort to not fly off on a red-eyed binge, I could revel in the goddamn narcotics’n’booze’n’nicotine hazed formula this band was born in (Zeke was once known for only playin’ towns that had methadone clinics) and inevitably makes nice company when the ruckus these guys makes comes outta the speakers. Their last suckerpunch, Kicked in the Teeth, had me bouncin’ off the walls. I was convinced that it was the greatest thing they’d done and maybe Zeke was the shit and all they needed was Jack Endino to stick the knobs at off-settings and let ’em flail away cuz they were Black Flag, AC/DC, and Motörhead all rolled into one ugly shout-yerself-hoarse package.

Dirty Sanchez isn’t a departure from that, either. The Fastbacks’ Kurt Bloch isn’t the type of… er, “mixer” to screw with a band’s sound. Something just makes this disc a downer. They slide right into “Let’s Get Drugs,” a mainliner rant of hopped up rock’n’thrash fulla Marky Felchtone’s bile. “Rip & Destroy” and “Now You Die” follow way too close on its heels. It’s not too hard to just reel ’em off after that: “Drunk,” “Punk Rock Records,” “Out of Love,” “Let It Rain,” “I Don’t Give a Fuck,” “Liar,” ad fuckin’ nauseam, like bein’ locked in a little room with Donny Paycheck, Sonny Riggs, Mark Pierce (who’s since quit I hear), and Marky, with ’em gettin’ louder’n’louder’n’shakin’ out yer fillings ’til ya just can’t stand anymore. It’s relentless past the point of overkill, the hardest, most brutal onslaughts directed against girls, friends, society, humanity, punker than anything mebbe this side of the Bad Brains’ Rock For Light or anything Minor Threat came up with during their brief career, ‘cept without the crap where ya could lay off negativity and violence. Zeke’s not buyin’ that. Zeke’s headkickin’ yer brains into the loose gravel. Zeke’s not lookin’ back. Zeke’s got a date with Götterdämmerung. No fucking around here.
(www.epitaph.com)