Belgrado-self/titled LP (2012)

On the third night of a four-evening bender, I decided it would be a good idea to watch that Warren Beaty flick, "Reds." Yup, it had me in tears watching the situation unfold in the '10s. It got my so worked up emotionally, I hadda go get blackout drunk on the beach with my Marxist buddies. Seriously, we're coming up on the centenary of Red Oktober, and who but us weirdoes, punks, and losers will commemorate that anniversary?

Whatever, Belgrado is a distinguished representative of the deathpunk/postpunk/whateverthefuckpost- revival sweeping the globe these days. I still can't tell if this band is for real or just faking the funk, but whatever, I'm gonna give 'em the benefit of the doubt. Either way, they do a pretty good version of Gang of Four with female vocals. I'm guessing they cribbed the cover art from some WWII photo+photoshop. Plus they throw in that aesthetic touch of biting The Mob hardcore. No Doves Fly Here. Punk as fuck, right? Who cares. This band does a much more interesting version of ripping off a dead style than a lot of their contemporaries do. That's all.

Hang out with Belgrado then stay tuned for next month's installment of this blog, wherein your humble narrator relates his escapades abroad and/or in the Malian revolution for Tuareg independence. By staying home and guzzling gin and chompin' on Xanax, 'natch.

*Edit, 12.12.13: I re-up'd the file, so get it HERE, geeks.*