The Importance of Not Knowing What You're Doing

I've been spinning Corroded by Drugs of Faith quite a lot over the last month or so. I've known of this band for years, largely because they share vocalist and guitarist Rich Johnson with Agoraphobic Nosebleed, where he does vocals and plays bass. But because of my tendency to ignore bands that haven't released an LP, I never listened to them until they dropped their debut longplayer via Selfmadegod Records earlier this year. My bad.

Drugs of Faith call their music "grind'n'roll." I like this term, but it's misleading in their case. Drugs of Faith never lapse into bluesy swagger, as bands like Leng T'che do. Johnson does use lots of big, ramshackle chord voicings that defy melody and key. Call it "noise rock'n'grind."

When you watch videos of Drugs of Faith playing live, you can see the abandon with which Johnson plays his instrument. Unlike most metal guitarists, he whacks away with inefficient whole-arm swings. He hits tons of open strings, washing even simple chords in a dissonant drone. He plays like a guy who has no idea what he's doing.

Of course, Johnson--and the rest of Drugs of Faith--know exactly what they're doing. They're a tight, rehearsed band that's composed of veteran musicians. But theirs is a sort of closeted professionalism. Punk and metal are supposed to be feral, animalistic. It's music about losing control that, ironically, requires a great deal of self-control to perform properly. Drugs of Faith have found the perfect balance between these two competing tendencies.