It’s easy to assume that a band name like This Moment in
Black History is the work of a few trust-funded white hipster kids,
tongues firmly planted in their cheeks, fishing for some desperately
craved attention. In reality TMIBH is a skull-rattling noise punk
quartet hailing from Cleveland, one with a bio that boasts of
underground music’s “blackest rhythm section.” While the music of TMIBH
is fueled by an endless array of causes close to the band’s collective
heart—from dirty punk to Southern soul to free jazz—white
kid irony is nowhere to be found here.
Last year’s It Takes a Nation of Assholes to Hold Us
Back—the title of which is a bratty ode to Public
Enemy—is a blistering assault of jagged guitars, thumping drums,
yelped vocals, and enough political punk lyrics to send Dick Cheney
scurrying into his underground bunker. Recorded over a two-day period
by Steve Albini, the record does without bells and whistles; it just
sounds like a raw, timeless punk album—one that couriers the
goods in frantic, hurried bursts—most songs falling shy of the
two-minute mark. If there is an exception to their short song rule,
it’s the epic—clocking in at four-and-a-half minutes—”On
Tour with Charlie Parker,” which starts out as a rapid-fire blast of
screeching vocals and guitar feedback, only to build into a noisy
free-jazz breakdown. While divulging in some experimental skronk might
not work for most bands that exist under the punk rock umbrella, the
music of TMIBH feels loose, if not downright soulful, with influences
that stretch far beyond the limitations of the scene they reside in.
Says vocalist Christopher Kulcsar, “We’re all music geeks. Lawrence
[Caswell, the band’s bassist] and I met in the most typical indie-rock
fashion—at the college radio station—and there is a very
wide variety of tastes within our band.”
It Takes a Nation is a beaming monument to the various
influences that artistically tug at the band, a group of individuals
whose record collections extend further than what any predictable
hardcore matinee merchandise table could possibly provide. Even on the
band’s blog, tour-time excitement is the thrill of pulling into the
Stax Records museum in Memphis, or when they came across a studio mic
once used by Al Green. And before they unleash the furious jabs of the
blistering “Larry Pulled a Knife on Jesus,” the band opens It Takes
a Nation with “World B. Free,” a freewheeling post-hardcore funk
instrumental. It’s this interplay—the bouncing funk nestled tight
alongside the seething noise—that speaks volumes about the band’s
direction and their ability to write a thrilling punk song that clocks
in under the 90-second mark.
Another aspect of TMIBH is their road-weary charm, a band unafraid
to bring together performer and crowd, even if by force. Says Kulcsar,
“I don’t think I’ve gotten in a fight with anyone while we played, but
I’ve definitely tried to.” But it’s not all swinging fists, as he
elaborates: “Any good punk band is confrontational. I hate the audience
and the artist being two separate things. Some people think that when
the band is in the crowd it’s confrontational, but I just see it as
trying to get the crowd involved.”