It’s often said that the term ‘punk’ has lost its potency.
One generation of distorted, two-chord rabblers after another have taken their shot at breathing new life into a fifty year old medium while only serving to illustrate how far we have truly come from the days where rifled two-chord rabbles decrying the monarchy held enough shock value to shake the pearl-clutching suburbs.
If a survey of the room ahead of New Jersey’s headline set at Tufnell Park’s Dome – a sprawling mixture of grizzled moshers, members of the queer community and loners who look like they’ve arrived in Robert De Niro Taxi Driver cosplay – isn’t enough to convince you that punk is not only thriving but evolving, then 10 seconds of Ho99o9’s performance quickly puts the case to bed.
The New Jersey duo consisting of Yeti Bones and TheOGM open proceedings with the first five tracks from recent album Tomorrow, We Escape; the best of which, ‘Escape’, pushes the snare drum to near breaking point, as a rousing chorus line wrestles with a metal inspired half-speed breakdown.
“Lucky me, another label telling me what’s a hit,” raps TheOGM as he steps to the fore from behind the synthesizer to stalk the front of the stage during ‘Target Practise’. These moments of lyrical back and forth between Ho99o9’s two protagonists are some of the most magical in the set, and strike a chemistry to rival any posse cut from hip-hop’s golden era.
The pit of bodies in front of the stage refuse to let up throughout, only pausing to recuperate while fleeting interludes of Frank Sinatra, 90s house [courtesy of Crystal Waters’ ‘Gypsy Woman’] and The Chordettes’ ‘Mr. Sandman’ blast through the venue’s PA system; a welcome dose of irreverence amid the confrontational tirades or rap-metal.
Over the course of a decade of lauded live performances (previously famed for death-defying leaps and nudity), Ho99o9 shows have garnered a reputation for spectacle. Tonight sees The OGM sporting tribal facepaint, a white fur vest, wraparound shades and fingerless leather clothes, while Yeti – whose hair is shaved on the back and sides with a mass of dreadlocks on top – climbs the stage rigging to spark furore in the crowd beneath him.
As if to complete the rockshow bingo card, the venue’s PA system is blown out towards the end of the set, initiating 5 minutes of solos from touring drummer Thomas Pridgen before matters resume to close the evening, as a Ho99o9-orchestrated wall of death [a mosh pit which opens with the audience split in two like the red sea] spans the length of the room.
Ho99o9 represent a magpie-esque approach to heavy music which translates to a live setting like very few hybrid genres can. Over the course of a performance which boasts the relentless heft and rough edges of proto punk, the camp maximalism of hair metal and the seamless lyrical tennis of hip hop, Ho99o9 remain one of planet Earth’s most alluring live prospects.
imagery: Derek Bremner / @del_photos
