SUBMACHIN3 – Off The Rails: Loose At The Moose
Well here’s a chunk of my life that I am never going to get back again. I think that I am actually dumber for having sat through the live DVD. Huffing glue and watching Gummo might actually be a better time than this sad excuse for a band. Submachin3 claims that “their only goal was to drink, play, and inspire you to hurt yourself.” Well, like a dirty smoker, you are hurting yourself every time you listen to Submachin3. I am fully convinced that listening to, or watching, Submachin3 play will cause cancer and birth defects over the long term. Oh, that’s not a compliment. I know that the morons that fill the shoes of this five-piece pack of dimwits will think that it is, but trust me, it’s not. They should have said, “Our only goal was to drink and play for other morons who stand around in a drunken stupor nodding to each other as if they recognize one of our songs from another one.” This is the most uninspired, boring set I have ever sat through. The Moose is a shitbox bar that appears to be vacant except for the small cluster of crusty, scab-riddled goof-offs who actually paid money to see this band. For all their booze talk, was anyone even buying drinks? I don’t see any evidence of it in the DVD, other than the band, who do some showing off with a bottle of something forgettable. It’s been my experience that punkers show up at a show, try and sneak or whine their way past the bouncer, then pool their money to buy three pints of shit draft beer, passing it mitt to mitt, greasing their slimy mouths all over it. Maybe they get a buzz, maybe they don’t. Whatever, they get to be seen at the show, right? Huh-huh, cool, Butthead! Huh-huh, cool, Beavis! I bet the bar staff took seventy-five cents and a couple of cigarette butts in tips that night. Wait, I take that back — punkers can’t afford smokes, so they would have kept the butts. This is an end of the line show for a band that stalled from the get-go. I don’t care if they’ve toured and played forever, this band is horrible, boring, sad, tripe gobbled up by skids who have nothing better to do than go see Submachin3 at the local gin mill. Seriously! Who would have heard of this shitty band if I hadn’t just written this? This whole show puts me in a bad mood.
(Da’ Core Records, 4407 Bowes Avenue, West Mifflin, PA 15122)