Crusade

By the late 1990s, hardcore had gotten weird. Really weird. A

subculture rooted in nonconformity had morphed into just another

target market. In a scene where distinctiveness and individuality

were once kings, uniformity somehow found itself as heir apparent:

Let's all sound the same, dress the same, and listen to the same ten

bands. In the midst of all this muck and mire, CRUSADE was born.



Lawrence Susi was no stranger to this artistic ghetto, having played

bass with New York Hardcore stalwarts Breakdown and co-founding the

critically lauded Sub Zero. Crusade was formed, Susi cryptically

recalls, "as a reaction to what was going on." As to exactly what was

going on, he's not saying, but there is nothing that is the least bit

opaque about his reaction, as the band's recordings and live show

illustrate.



A recent performance showcased a slew of new material, some recorded,

some as-of-yet uncommitted to tape. The band opened with "Church And

State", and its lines "Where've you been, You know it's nice to see

you, Strung out in a burning fucking jungle far away" stuck with me

throughout their set, and for most of the night I was plagued with

images of Sgt. Pepper in fatigues, a junkie ex-POW too weary and

bedraggled to introduce Billy Shears. "Bloodletting", aside from

being way too catchy for a song called fucking "Bloodletting",

perfectly articulates the ennui responsible for the band's creation.

"Morbidly Festive" (one of a handful of more recent compositions that

has actually been recorded) evokes Dance With Me era TSOL, and

crescendos into a truly Songs For The Deaf-worthy bridge. Garnish

with lyrics more suited for the jihadwatch.org message board than a

rock song, and you've got my full attention. "Perpetual Care" is

another newer song, and may quite possibly be the best love song

written for a corpse since "I Heard Her Call My Name". Musically,

think Van Dyke Parks scoring strings for Love And Rockets

and you're almost there. "Between Heaven And Hell" is definitely the

standout track of all the new material, though. Described by Susi as

a paean to the fringe benefits of war, the song conjures up the less

cringe worthy moments of both Mr. Danzig and Mr. Jourgensen, while

boasting a monster riff (yes, a monster riff) that would make K.K.

Downing crap his trousers.



Those of you fortunate to have found a copy of the band's only

official recorded output (2003's The Beauty Within The Decay - one

thousand pressed and label goes "poof!") will go home happy as well.

The infectious arcade game bleeps of "All Is Lost", the

Bukowski-inspired "The Hand You Cannot Sever", and the (literally)

show-stopping title track were all present.



A few other gems were resurrected, if not revealed, that night. The

long dormant "Burn Like Rome" condenses twenty something years of

hardcore into two minutes, recalling Minor Threat, Cro-Mags, and Bad

Brains, mining but never miming. "Gardenia", another new one, is

soaked in reverb and lush guitar, and one can't help but imagine Kevin

Shields twisting knobs and insisting on a pitch bended synth part in

the chorus.



The band is stronger than they have ever been. Guitarist John Troy is

equal parts Ace Frehley, Steve Jones,and John McGeoch, and is a lot

better looking than all of them. Well, maybe not Ace. The rhythm

section, comprised of Anthony Realbuto and Jon Boucher (expatriates of

Connecticut's Eventide), is mentally insane, in addition to being

impossibly tight. Seeing them live, one can witness indications of

what greatness is yet to come. To put it simply, now is a good time

for you to start paying attention.



D.B. Cooper

New York City

September 27, 2005