Drug Church are Catchy, Audacious, and Impactful on Their New Record, ‘Hygiene’
Photo credit: Ryan Scott Graham
Patrick Kindlon is absolutely everywhere – if you want him to be. He is not the biggest name in punk, but he creates so much that you could spend countless hours engaging with the output of this vocalist/lyricist, comic book creator, podcast host, and frequent interview subject. He first came up in punk and hardcore scenes as the frontman of sprawling, eclectic, and brilliant punk collective Self Defense Family, who started out making Dischord-descended post-hardcore under the name End Of A Year. However, he gained much more visibility upon joining alt-punks Drug Church, rounded out with musicians Nick Cogan, Cory Galusha, Pat Wynne, and Chris Villeneuve.
The group’s new album, Hygiene, is the highly anticipated follow-up to their 2018 breakout, Cheer. Armed with a more substantial budget to work with on Cheer than they had for previous releases, Drug Church’s captivating blend of hardcore and various alt rock styles sounded better than ever without sacrificing any of the energy or edge of Hit Your Head and Paul Walker. It is difficult to put a fitting label on their unique brand of hardcore-adjacent music, as is with many other artists within the current explosion of melodic hardcore acts. Their peers in this scene that are riding the wave of the 2021 Turnstile hype are definitely also indebted to Cheer. Given the impact of that album on the band and their contemporaries, it was inevitable that scenesters were looking forward to seeing what their next full-length would bring.
If the goal of Hygiene was to capture the magic of Cheer a second time, the group has succeeded. Drug Church once again showcase colossal riffs soaked in distortion and a driving rhythm section, culminating in songs that are simultaneously raucous and alluring. As always, Kindlon’s major contribution sonically is his characteristic strained sing-shout, but there are instances in this record where the yelling vocalist finds more melody than ever before in this group. Prior to Hygiene, the catchier elements of Drug Church songs have been carried by the instrumentals for the most part, save for some particularly sing-along-friendly choruses like that of Cheer’s “Weed Pin” and “Unlicensed Guidance Counsellor”. With this release, Kindlon’s most tuneful moments are what have been stuck in my head the most, such as the little descending melody in the chorus of “World Impact” and the trade-off vocals between him and guest vocalist Carina Zachary on “Premium Offer”, plus his verse that follows. Overall, as someone who can listen to Cheer for days and never get sick of it, I am very pleased that Hygiene amounts to an equally satisfying half hour of music.
Though the band’s sound is paramount to their initial draw, Kindlon’s lyrics are an important part of what makes Drug Church stick for people. He is anything but reticent, with his observations, thoughts, and opinions on the world laid bare in his words. Hygiene is full of subjects that have been touched on in Drug Church material before: distrust towards authority, humankind at its worst, the plight of an artist. It sounds like dime a dozen punk poetry until you hear his lyrics yourself. They are consistently vulnerable without ever being overbearingly emotional, exposing the perspective of a defiant, thoughtful, and self-effacing individual.
One of the lines on Hygiene that I find most compelling is especially revealing and antagonistic. It serves as a blunt thesis statement for opinions presented in “Detective Lieutenant” as well as other tracks on this record and its predecessor. Hearing one of my favourite artists sing, “If I do a double murder / What this song did for you doesn't change an iota,” almost feels like a direct challenge. Many articles about Kindlon at least mention, if not focus on, his reputation as a “controversial figure”. While various podcast rants and lyrics have outlined his measured approach to denouncing social policing, particularly the consensus of knee-jerk “cancel culture” in punk circles, “Detective Lieutenant” provides an extreme scenario.
I thought about this lyric – the one I read as a dare for me to sacrifice music that I love if I find out it was made by someone who committed a reprehensible crime. It would not be the first time for me! So, if it ever came out that Kindlon killed two people, would I still follow my instinct to throw out my Drug Church and Self Defense vinyl? Definitely. But the coherence in his social commentary and brazen approach to art (and yes, my appreciation for the music) push me to make more space for criticisms of cancel culture that I am usually inclined to shut out completely. And to me, that feels like progress. Beyond being my favourite thing to listen to so far this year, maybe Hygiene will make me a bit more open to others who see things differently from me. Great art is supposed to be impactful, after all, isn’t it?
