A few weeks from now, Planes Mistaken for Stars will be no more. The
Denver band—known more for their unfortunate moniker than their
penchant for riotous live shows—is hanging it up for good after a
decade of debauched performances and overlooked recordings.
Formed in Peoria, Illinois (a city with a hilarious,
salt-of-the-earth motto: “See how it plays in Peoria”), the band’s
early days had the PMFS crew emoting like few bands were ever really
capable of. Nowadays the “e” word is saddled with a mighty stigma (and
for the most part, rightfully so), but in the mid-to-late ’90s, to be a
band birthed from the rigid post-punk scene and to sound like PMFS did,
was a stunning achievement. Tales of broken homes and rough living were
the centerpiece of the raspy-voiced screams of singer Gared O’Donnell,
and their musical breakdowns seemed to mirror actual emotional ones.
The band possessed a nervous sense of danger, akin to a cornered animal
with raised hair and snarling teeth. They were raw as fuck, a handful
of Midwestern kids making music the only way they knew how, and it
wasn’t pretty. No careerism, or desire for upward mobility, just a
desire to vent in song, no matter how difficult things got.
Sensing a change, the band migrated to Denver, and in the process
cleaned up their rough edges. They grew in popularity, traveled the
globe, and shared the stage with some of today’s finer acts (Mastodon,
Hot Water Music, High on Fire) along the way. In their final
incarnation PMFS are a living, breathing, beast of a rock band. No
longer content to bear the burden of their unfortunate name, or have to
justify it, the band has slowly unleashed one brutal recording after
another, and in the process they’ve kicked enough dirt on their emo
past to completely bury that aspect of their history. Now firmly
grounded in the dirty metal scene, PMFS have found a welcome home for
their growling vocals, discordant guitars, and sweaty (and often nude)
live show.
So as their farewell tour rolls through Portland, get ready to
witness the ugly swan song of a band that will, without a doubt, leave
everything on the stage. That is, if they can actually stay on the
stage, which judging from past shows, is probably not the case. Let me
amend that: They’ll leave everything on the stage, the floor, and the
sidewalk outside the club. Then they’ll stop playing forever.
Planes Mistaken for Stars perform at Satyricon on Sunday,
September 16.