Written by Patrick McNamara
Every so often (say, as often as I actually put the toilet paper back on the roller thing - rather than just have the roll sit on top of the toilet) I listen to a new album for the first time... and then I immediately listen to it again... and again... and again…. and again... until before I know it, I wake up from my goodness trance and discover I’m now an old man who has slept through a massive war, and when I walk back from the mountains into my small upstate town I discover much has changed.
Never mind the last part of that first paragraph (it’s like RIP that reference - RIP that) as I don’t know what that was about. But I do know the album of great goodness and wonder I’m referring to is “The Constant One” by Iron Chic. I have seriously listened to this record maybe….. hang on, let me get my calculator and glasses…. maybe 27 times since late last week? That seems about right. It’s a big reason why I’m coming off such a good weekend. I didn’t do shit. I just listened to Iron Chic and very quickly started singing along to every song from the comfy confines of my couch (I had the Olympics on mute - it was perfect).
Iron Chic is a band from Long Island featuring five dudes (Phil! Gordon! Rob! Mike! Lu...brano?) who are f$&cking triumphant. And when I comic book swear like that, you know I’m serious. They play divine hardcore pop punk for people who like feeling happy in spite of it all.
Iron Chic sing songs (with gravelly wisdom) about the wind being in their face, but it not being able to knock them down. And fighting to try real hard to stand on their own two feet. And having heavy souls. And fucking the world.
(listen to what the guitars are saying too, guys - the secret to everything has always been found in the guitars.)
And you’re going to want to raise your fist and sing along as your mood lifts while you listen to this band. Because when Iron Chic’s crunchy melodic guitars get going - nothing can stop them or us. Not even life*.
Iron Chic should tour with PUP - they’d get along. And I should mind my own business. But here I am about to butt in again, because you should play this entire album below (please note: it’s the same album I’ve just spent too many paragraphs talking about). And blast it while you do. Blast with all you got. Blast it like you mean it. Because Iron Chic sure does.
(*jk - life can beat us up, drag us down, and stop us whenever it wants - but if we’re going out - we might as well go out singing.)