I found myself on the fourth or fifth hour of hate5six’s hardcore TRL live stream a couple months back when I saw a group of old dudes absolutely commanding a crowd into a fucking frenzy. The volume was low at first, but as the energy was too undeniable, I turned it up a little, realized these old dudes could fucking shred, turned it up more, and just sat there in awe with a stupid ass grin on my face. When the name Deadguy flashed at the bottom of the screen, I was intrigued. When I researched further, that intrigue grew to a certain fascination, and a curiosity how an act would or could sound with so much time in between releases.

30 years is a long time for a sophomore effort. Fixation on a Co-Worker dropped in the middle of a music scene that was far more divided, and scenes were hidden with the utmost kept gates. Although my music nerdiness had started from an early age, there would have been no indication for me to follow the path that would lead to Deadguy‘s debut. What I missed was a group of musicians that very clearly understand what music they want to make, and chose to do so in the most straight forward way possible. What comes of that is a band that sounds so wholly familiar, yet so wholly unique, almost as if they existed and operated on an alternate timeline, and were plucked and placed back into this one. It intrigued the hell out of me to know how a band could sound with so much time in between.

Fortunately, the band sheds light on exactly what we’re getting here: ‘We made a fucking Deadguy record…This is just what it sounds like when we play together,‘ and that sharpened earnestness is spot on. Near-Death Travel Services is unapologetically a fucking Deadguy record that fucking sounds like a Deadguy record. That concept, refusing to change anything that works, and keep on, regardless of the time in between lends to its strength, and the five piece waste no time in those 39 minutes proving it.

“Kill Fee” opens with Tim Singer belting ‘we are the freaks,’ acting as an ignition point for the delivery of the type of energy Deadguy can deliver. The lyrical content itself is a mix of disappointing self reflection, angry self revelation, poetically potent desperation, and plain spoken admissions that are easily drowned out amongst the chaotic instrumentation. “Barn Buner” find him describing watching a woman falling, then with an unnerving angst, works out his stream of consciousness rationale with the mechanical relevance of a rusty restored engine brimming with self disappointment. Elsewhere on “New Best Friend” his delivery teeters between full on mental breakdown, and intense poetic anger comparable to Rollins’ shout-singing, but with more grit. That cycle stays consistent throughout, and provides spectrum for delivery that enables a clear way through to bond the other instrumentals together. While I can’t really point to another hardcore act that does exactly what they do (or really any band), they do formulate a noise-rock adjacence that’s comparable to equally infectious acts such as Whores. and Bummer, and the aforementioned Rollins Band.

The mathcore foundation that was introduced on Fixation is still at the root of their sound, but now with a sheen that gives each added detail and texture for more clarity. The buzzing guitars whizz and whirl developing a frenetic chaotic swarm of bees energy that provide contrast to the thudding traditional punk basslines that bubble into focus here and there, while backing percussive chaotic onslaught keeps its pace and transitions on tightknit par with the guitar work. The future of their lineage and legacy obviously already fully fleshed out with bands like Dillinger Escape Plan and Converge (both with respectful legacies of their own), however, while those acts developed an eager hunger for experimentalism to great success, Deadguy just doesn’t. That refusal does not negate the greatness of their sound, but instead adds to it. With the confidence and comfort of allowing what they do best to just be, puts that earnestness on full display and begs the question: if nothing was broken, why try to fix it? In allowing what works to illuminate, they have given us a hardcore album that rivals highpoints from any of the current scene darlings of today, or that have come and gone in between each release.

That certain energy that locks Near-Death Travel Services with Fixation on a Co-Worker maintains their refreshing angst, and while there’s never a pivot in new directions, there’s no need to. The Deadguy sound is neither fossilized, rehashed, or tired. It’s just fucking Deadguy.

A text to speech reader finishes out album closer “Wax Princess”. As the the tempo slows adding more and more meat to an already brutal breakdown, the band fades away leaving only the digitized voice rambling lyrics in a monotone and cold delivery. It stood out as a reminder how permeable our lives are to technology. We’ve enabled it to reach us always, at any time, even in the most perfect Deadguy record; but, then again, this band only makes most perfect records, and that preservation of sound is so unique, and warranted in an ever evolving exhaustive world, it’s comforting to see such a beautifully immovable object such as Near-Death Travel Services.