Combichrist

Nine Inch Nails, you say? KMFDM, kinda? Wumpscut? Ministry? Late-era White Zombie? Rammstein, perhaps? Yeah, more or less. Combichrist traffic in the same sort of danceable industrial electronic bile, catchy hatred, and beat-saturated nihilism—difference is, they're Norwegians who moved to the United States. It's pop with a fuck-you serrated edge that celebrates the endorphin rush of pain. Samples bleed in and out of the mix, filtered synths boomerang about, and frontman Andy LaPlegua oozes a palpable disgust. When you're a young'un, this sort of syncopated noise acts as something cathartic; to listen is to be empowered, to vanquish foes and authority figures without actually shedding blood, damaging property, or brooding in a jail cell. When you've grown up a bit, it's ambient adrenaline to propel you from that first or third cup of coffee to when it's time to head home. Either way, everyone wins, and we're glad this strain of throbbing disdain isn't showing any signs of going out of style. With Black Light Burns and Desillusion. 16+.
Tue., Feb. 3, 7 p.m., 2009
 
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