SITTING AROUND a table littered with quickly vanishing beers and whiskey shots, the three present members of Drunk Dad, and the fourth on speaker phone in the center of said table, sum up their name and the live experience it often brings them.
"There are cosmic implications to having the word 'drunk' in your band name," explains bassist Adam Garcia, "It's either really great, or people are like, 'Oh, you want beer all over your amp.'"
Guitarist and vocalist Dane Herrin elaborates, "It's kind of to be expected when you foster this environment of drunkenness. You know, 'Yeah let's get out of control and be loud and brutal and shit.' People get this weird cathartic release [from it], and sometimes you get hit in the head with a glass. It happens..."
The blame for the chaos Drunk Dad creates in a live setting can't be placed squarely on their moniker alone. Their disjointed yet focused brand of rock could drive a sober man to drink with the hopes that a more unhinged mind could help him decipher what he was hearing. The band's forthcoming 12-inch—Morbid Reality, their first vinyl release out on Tuesday, June 11, from the recently resurrected label Eolian Empire—is a pretzel-like intersection of genre super-highways that go in all directions at once. One second you're hearing a crushing math-rock band, the next a noise-art camp complete with looping samples of squealing pigs, and somehow from behind that comes lumbering, doomy hardcore riffs. With all of this combined, and Herrin doing Moody Blues-esque spoken poetry and rancid screams over the top of it, the result is unique, heavy, and ugly.
Collectively, Drunk Dad is pleased with the monster they've created, and they all agree they're not out to paint any pretty pictures or vibes for anybody.
"We're trying to think of different ideas and different avenues to explore creatively and not trying to close anything off because it's too upsetting or too jarring," says Herrin. "Reality is sometimes really gross and depressing. Don't close those things off, open yourself up [to them]. I grew up on a farm in Eastern Washington. Sometimes you had to touch shit, but shit washes off. Life is dirt. Life is fun."