Aspiga: music review

Being a GenXer, I’m moody but not rebellious. Generally I like my punk live with a Rolling Rock in hand. This addictive new album from New Jersey’s Aspiga [that funky name comes from those old black and white Godzilla movies] opens with the fast and strong “Save Your Spit.” Churning guitar and melancholic lyrics—“I discovered I hate myself” on “Welcome to the Sympathy Party” collide phenomenally. Metal spoons clang the drums. At times, you’re riding a mountain bike with a loose chain over a rocky trail. Singer/guitarist Kevin Day’s voice ranges from tender to raspy. The introspection appeals to me. In “Parade on Me,” Day sings “water is scarce/ I tried to rinse you off . . . my paper skin/ you tried to crease me.” So therapeutic. There’s fresh honesty in “On the Defensive”—“I say what I don’t mean/ It keeps me from getting anything.” Edgy songs about lament, reparation and transformation make Aspiga worth listening to over and over.

Every Last Piece
Paper + Plastick
November 20, 2012

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