PUNCHER
Send Em to the Cemetery

On New Year’s Day, I awoke to two things. The first — a nasty, splitting headache — was neither welcome nor surprising. The second, the news that PUNCHER had unleashed their debut EP onto the Internet, was both.

This may go without saying, but Send Em to the Cemetery is intense. In six tracks spewed over 17 minutes, PUNCHER rails on racists, boring bands, gun crazies, and a slew of others. And they do it while pummeling the crap out of their instruments and voices. Their music (supplied by Andy Plank on vocals, Eric Rykal on guitar, Scott Hayden on bass, and Dave Power on drums) is fast, loud, and more abrasive than my then-booze-rattled brain could ever aspire to be.

Ringleader Andy Plank howls and screams throughout the entirety of Send Em, and his energetic lyrics are the fuel behind PUNCHER’s fire. Or as Plank puts it, they’re “a spewing of things on my mind that I hate about horrible, stupid people who are all fucked up on social issues.” I couldn’t have said it better myself: throughout Send Em, Plank demands more out of everyone and everything, pointing fingers at bigots on “Always be Punching Racists,” hipsters on “Theme Song for a Puncher,” and even himself on “All Good Mall Punks Go to Heaven.”

Yet no matter how hard he howls, Plank’s thirst for betterment seems unquenchable — a problem ingrained in the restless spirit of the band, and probably the cause of their existence: “I was getting washed out on too many bands playing unoriginal, boring singer-songwriter stuff, or electronic-pop steeped in ironic nostalgia with meaningless lyrics,” said Plank. “And going to show after show of bands not moving around or trying to have fun was like a reminder that getting old is supposed to ruin all the good parts of everything you love. So, we said fuck that with PUNCHER.”

From the moment “Always Be Punching Racists” kicks off to the tumultuous close of “Tickets to the Gun Show,” PUNCHER does one hell of a job keeping that middle finger raised. Throughout Send Em, Plank degradingly calls shit as he sees it while Rykal churns out tasty, metal-inspired licks beside him. As for the drums, well, they’re insane. Power’s prowess is greatly known within the Eau Claire scene, but being in a band like PUNCHER really allows him to show off how furiously he can rip the sticks. Seriously.

Culminating in a convulsion of kick-drum thumps and furious riffs, EP opener “Always Be Punching Racists” sets the tone for Send Em, and the other tracks follow suit:”Water Boned on Ham Street” is a call to arms to start soberly looking reality in the face. “Theme Song for a Puncher” is a straightforward shot at people who misguidedly believe they’re cool for not caring. “Fuck Barbara Walters” is a left jab and a harsh right hook at our generation’s fucked up obsession with the media.

But for all the shit talking on Send Em, there’s also a lot of talk about standing up for yourself and fighting back — whether that be through actions, words, or a combination of the two. “It’s easy to be a vulnerable punching bag for other people and all the undeserving things we take in,” said Plank. “But at some point in our lives that’s what we’re taught to get comfortable with. It might take some unusual thought or effort to work your way out of it all, but you might as well be dead if you’re not going to try.”

Plank explained that what got him into music in the first place was “going to crazy basement shows in Eau Claire where kids showed up no matter what night of the week it was.” PUNCHER is doing their best to replicate that spirited state of youth, “ripping it up in whatever basement or venue” they can. Plank is happy that people are into it, even though (due to lack of hardcore bands in the area) PUNCHER has played on a lot of bills with different kinds of acts. “As long as everybody’s ready to have some fun with us,” he says, “and hopefully yell a little bit, it’s all good.”

PUNCHER may be livid with discontent and furious with our failures, but more importantly they’re about getting sweaty, having a good time, and celebrating the fact that we don’t have to be a part of the things that we hate. Send Em is a testament to that celebration, chock-full of cymbal crashes and tasty riffs, dramatic builds, and strained howls. In a lot of ways it’s the ideal punk record: it’s intense, it’s fun, and it gets out before it wears itself out.

As Plank puts it, “There’s no good reason to overcomplicate a message that you want people to hear.” And PUNCHER’s message — that you can always punch your way out — is definitely worth hearing.