Alternative rock music is difficult to write about. It’s meant to be neither accessible nor “good”; its entire purpose is rejecting the mainstream. For an article that will be listed under “reviews,” it can be hard to review something that has no desire to be ranked. Perhaps a description is the best I can offer—reader, feel free to draw your own conclusion.
Having been here only a few months, I’ve gone to a fair number of concerts, a perk of the job. For all the lovely and not insignificant amount of DJing and dreampop, I have missed the grungier shows of my home turf back in Seattle. So when I found myself at Home Sweet Home—a small dive bar/venue filled with graffiti and young adults in black leather—I was a bit homesick but looking forward to hearing what the East Coast had to offer to the genre.
Brooke and I arrived near the end of Jimi Lucid’s set and only got to hear a few songs of his, but it was enough to settle into the atmosphere: the scent of the fog machine mingled with sweat and the musk that comes with any punk-adjacent show. Lucid’s set ended to much applause, and from our place by the wall, we watched Jade Tourniquet. Sasha Worms, the lead singer, was clad in a long skirt and a Breton cap as they arranged their set up. After Worms’ (not just a stage name, by the way, but a fabulous last name) brief but heartfelt expression of gratitude for the audience’s presence, the show began.
Jade Tourniquet calls their sound a blend between “psych rock and hazegaze,” and some of those descriptors were definitely audible. The band is psychedelic and “gazey” in the audio mixing—the instrumentals blended into each other in such a small space, resulting in perhaps not the most distinct but certainly evocative harmonies. There’s a tangible chemistry between the three members of the band; by the second song, Sasha donned their 5 string bass for a loud and piercingly fun dynamic between them and Mitch on guitar. As both hazegaze and psychedelic rock songs came and went, Jade Tourniquet raised the energy. Mitch urged the crowd to move around for the song. And they did: Brooke got clocked in the nose and I in the jaw, but such is the magic of the pit. One particularly passionate audience member swung from an exposed pipe in the ceiling, soon after, another enthusiast’s friends threw him headfirst into the pit to some injuries but much enthusiasm.
I would be remiss if I didn’t mention the highlight of the set: a surprise cover of Donovan’s “Season of the Witch.” Worms’ clear tremolo over loud hazy guitars lent itself surprisingly well to the hit 60s anthem—one of the clearer moments of psychedelic rock. It’s that amalgamation of unexpected vocal clarity and more traditional punk rock instrumentation that gives Jade Tourniquet their distinct sound. Throughout Jade Tourniquet’s set, Worms spoke comfortably with the lively crowd, reminding them to buy their handmade merch. For all the punk aggression in the audience, the band created a friendly atmosphere, leaving a welcome lack of the pretension and exclusivism that is often palpable at these types of shows.
By the time Jade Tourniquet finished their songs and packed up the last of the pedalboards, my ringing ears were thankful for the sonic respite. Still, for all the slam dancing and ear piercing guitar solos, Jade Tourniquet leaves you wanting more.
