Brutal Knights

Punk rock is a lot like lying to protect someone’s feelings—lots of people do it but few do it well. So while Brutal Knights might not be the people to ask if your ass is fat, they’re the ones to call if you like smart, classic hardcore punk. Like most old school hardcore, the Toronto quintet is deeply inspired by The Ramones and their short, surprisingly tuneful bursts of sardonic atavism. 

Comedic frontman Nick Flanagan (who moonlights as a stand-up) knows how to give his humorous critiques a twist, whether it’s undergoing an emergency “Bikini Diet” (“I don’t want to be a dude with teets/ Unless it’s a surgery”), doing it “Doggie Style” because he’s embarrassed of his sex face, or trumpeting his sexual indifference while noting “the best thing about me is my balls have Afros” on “Beyotch Island.” They aren’t trying to reinvent the wheel musically. The guitars writhe and spasm in a trebly 90-second, three-chord crash reminiscent of L.A. punks like the Circle Jerks and Black Flag, while machine gun drums rattle to the rhythm. 

Since forming in 2005, Brutal Knights put out at least a dozen 7”s and EPs, as well as two full-lengths (one of which was mixed & mastered by the late Jay Reatard). Their performances match the chaotic intensity of the music, with Flanagan frequently shedding not only his shirt but also his pants during the course of the show. It’s not surprising. They play with so much energy you’ll feel impelled to disrobe, too, and thrash about the room like a deranged preschooler wound up on Fruity Pebbles and Red Bull. —Chris Parker