School Jerks – School Jerks (Grave Mistake Records)
It might be easy to make certain assumptions about School Jerks’ first full-length based on the presentation. The band’s name itself–Circle Jerks-ian but not quite–is a familiar element rebranded with the bitter memories of the stifling educational system often left imprinted on the psyches of many a young punk rocker. The art has a pretty strong Raymond Pettibon vibe to it, albeit with a handful of smaller images rather than the stronger, more singular iconography for which he was better known. But to assume this is just another repackaged throwback doesn’t do the album justice.
School Jerks – School Jerks (Grave Mistake Records)
It might be easy to make certain assumptions about School Jerks’ first full-length based on the presentation. The band’s name itself–Circle Jerks-ian but not quite–is a familiar element rebranded with the bitter memories of the stifling educational system often left imprinted on the psyches of many a young punk rocker. The art has a pretty strong Raymond Pettibon vibe to it, albeit with a handful of smaller images rather than the stronger, more singular iconography for which he was better known. But to assume this is just another repackaged throwback doesn’t do the album justice. Sure, it isn’t a million miles away from the sort of thrashy hardcore popping up between 1979 and 1983, but it almost seems like the product of some alternate universe where Void and United Mutation were the style’s figureheads, the ones aped by every band in subsequent decades, leaving the acts dealing in more controlled chaos – the Black Flags or Minor Threats of the world – as the footnotes, the ones only uncovered by the most thorough of completists and crate diggers.
One thing that’s unmistakable though, cover-judging or otherwise, is that School Jerks peddle some really ugly shit. The lyrics are steeped in paranoia, violence, decay, and sundry other hallmarks of the manner in which a dystopian vision of modern urban existence can be internalized and projected. Running the bipolar lyrical gamut between numbness and rage, disillusionment and destructive engagement, School Jerks spew the sort of virulence that would be cathartic if it seemed at all satisfying. Instead, it opts for the sort of nihilism that’s so jam-packed into each song that it seems as if each is being performed because the musicians genuinely feel they’re left with no other choice.
Complementing the lyrical approach, the music sounds like a salted wound (a compliment for this sort of thing if ever there was one). Nothing’s overly distorted or metallic-sounding, almost like a decent garage rock band playing ten times faster and a hundred times angrier. The performances are tightly-wound but often sound as if they’re on the verge of falling apart at the seams. Like Void, the frantic nature of the songs can often give the mistaken impression that School Jerks aren’t the most musically proficient, but digging deeper uncovers an inspired, unconventional competence to what they do. To convey this energy and to do it right, a certain level of skill is required. But to possess that skill and make it sound like it’s not there is a different level of artistry altogether.
While there’s nothing especially accessible about what the band does, that lack of immediate gratification makes them worthwhile. In a style that’s full to the brim with bands offering polite rehashes that are heavy on style but lacking the feral intensity of their meticulously-imitated forebears, bands like School Jerks are a welcome breath of rancid, stale air. Though their music is certainly not without some pretty unmistakable precedents, its vicious energy is undeniable and carries the album with an intensity that few of the band’s contemporaries can muster.
