Bug, The - Humbug Or, So Many Awful Things

Where are we in the life cycle of The Bug? Dispatches from the years of larval hibernation underground offered clues as to what lay ahead but nothing could have prepared us for the voracity of this group’s adult form, barely contained on this, their debut 7”. Most bands are lucky if they come up with one original thought in their lifespans; still others are content—nay, thrilled!—to just recycle and repackage the same ideas we’ve been rolling around in our empty heads for decades. “Never again.” The Bug, though? The Bug make dense music. Smart music. Music that is so full of ideas and possibility that it’s almost too much to bear. This is lightspeed Midwestern hardcore punk (dare I say thrash?). It has to be fast — there’s just too much to say, bodies scrambling to keep up with racing minds. Hardcore as protest noise, as a sublime manifestation of what happens when pure kinetic energy, a razorsharp wit, and a bull-headed will to survive collide. A new paradigm for political punk songs (no pandering, preaching, or posturing to be found here), packaged with a three-color printed booklet featuring lyrics, explanations, and pages of collage work featuring the group’s signature sinister smile. The arc of the moral universe always bends back to the same old bullshit, doesn’t it? Consider this a brief respite.