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From Detroit -- the city that gave us the Stooges, MC5, and the phrase "unsafe at any speed" -- comes a brash new sonic vehicle: The Suicide Machines.
The quartet's debut album, Destruction By Definition, offers an insight into the vulnerable state of being young and dissatisfied -- and most importantly, it voices the urge to do something about it. Through 16 breakneck tracks, Destruction By Definition traces the evolution of anger and frustration into action and, dare we say it, positivity.
A drive-by study of modern love and social dynamics, "New Girl" wraps its observations in a cloak of power-punk/ska mania, while "Break The Glass" blends mantra-like hookiness with anthemic rage. "S.O.S." exemplifies the group's two-pronged emphasis on adrenalized energy and skankin' grooves.
Just because they're called The Suicide Machines, don't think that these guys can't have fun every now and then. The horny ska-punk "Hey" (with trombone courtesy of Bim Skala Bim's Vinnie Nobile) underscores the quartet's combative humor. And "The Vans Song" (admittedly a bit "corny" by Navarro's reckoning) contains the hilarious couplet "worship Jeff Spicoli / not Chris Cornell."
Produced by Julian Raymond and Phil Kaffel, and mixed by Jerry Finn (of Rancid and Green Day fame), Destruction By Definition is driven as much by melody as velocity, three chord crunch, and scream-along-with-the-record passion. But if you find yourself inadvertently screaming along with TSM, well...that's okay too.
The Suicide Machines' sound may have little to do with the usual Motor City musical references, but the four band members -- who range in age from their late teens to early 20s -- are products and leaders of a scene that owes its very existence to self-determination and non-conformism. Some background information is in order....
First, about the name: a couple of years back, guitarist Dan Suicide Machine suggested to his three bandmates that they change the group's name from "The Uglies" to "Jack Kevorkian and The Suicide Machines" -- not as an homage to the controversial Michigan physician / assisted suicide protagonist, but as a reflection of the peculiar fatalism which seems to afflict teens in Detroit's dysfunctional suburbs (a fatalism which incidentally prompted The Suicide Machines' members to flee the aforementioned suburbia in favor of inner Detroit's punk and ska scene). The group decided to drop the Kevorkian reference after a contingent of acolytes swarmed a gig in the mistaken belief that Dr. Jack was actually going to conduct a snuff symposium.
TSM's origins: following a debut gig in a friend's basement, the group opened for the Mighty Mighty Bosstones in 1992 during the Boston ska kingpins' second Detroit appearance. In 1993, many basement gigs later, The Suicide Machines opened Rancids first Detroit show and in 1994 TSM's joined Rancid again for a sold-out performance.
Inspired, The Suicide Machines set up their own DIY tours, including a 1994 west coast stint and last year's nationwide trek with fellow ska punks Buck-O-Nine. During their Bay-area gig at Gilman Street, TSM found a like-minded scene for their own community-minded punk spirit, confirming that what they had been doing in basements and at punk clubs around Detroit was indeed part of a national underground.
Early recordings were bargain basement affairs: lo-fi, one take bash-it-outs. These all-too-brief trips into the studio resulted in the econo-simple Green World cassette released in 1994 on their own Old Skool Records label; and in 1995 a split CD with San Francisco's Rudiments called Skank For Brains. In addition, TSM contributed numerous one-offs and singles for punk compilations and friends' labels.
Things changed in early 1995 when a demo version of "New Girl" found its way onto local Detroit radio. Suddenly, scores of new fans woke up and embraced the city's creative punk hotbed. A subsequent deal with Hollywood Records now threatens to shower The Suicide Machines' brazen ethos upon a nationwide audience.
Unfazed by all the fuss surrounding their major label debut, the group's sound remains as unwavering and unforgiving as an airborne anvil: if you're standing at ground zero, better make sure your helmet is strapped on tight. "I hope people know us enough to know that we haven't changed," says Navarro.
Destruction By Definition proves the poetic immediacy of rage, rebellion, and rebirth -- as filtered through The Suicide Machines' whirling thresher of three-chord uptempo ska/punk. Catharsis is cool, and you don't have to kill yourself attaining it. Long live The Suicide Machines.
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