Under Sound and Under The Influence

Prize Horse Album “Under Sound” Release Show at First Avenue

By Jay Walker

February 22: First Avenue, Minneapolis

While waiting in line, a mad man at the bus stop across the street called to me, trying to get my attention. He repeatedly shouted, “White boy! Hey white boy!” I paid him no mind. Entering, it was clear the place was shoulder to shoulder, like a pack of cowboy killers.

Giallo offered something that was great for head thrashin’ and nut blasting. The vocalist sounded like a bull in heat being castrated and fed a steady supply of ipecac, which in the hardcore genre, is ideal. During their set, the mosh pit got especially frisky, with someone flying head first into my gut, resulting in the remains of my Tequila Sunrise to become part of my outfit.

The next group, killusonline, contained a darker, grittier sound from the guitars accompanied by a vocalist filled with moxy and Jesus Christ of Nazareth pummeling away at the drums. Downward, a group from Oklahoma, sounded like someone trying to serenade you in the midst of a NyQuil bender.

Then it was time for the headliner, Prize Horse, to take the stage and play their new album, Under Sound. The second track could have been compared to shredding, a cheese grater against flesh. But it was a pleasant shredding. I could have been in a dream for all I knew. Either by design or audio mishap, the track ended with a dissonant grinding noise. It was nice.

During the titular track, “Under Sound,” the drums rattled sharply, and the guitars became something else entirely, like a set of screaming radiators. The vocalist was injected with an energizing angst. While taking it in, I noticed some goddamned mustachioed vulture doing photography. He was kinda cute. The eighth song was dedicated to Blake, whoever that is.

The rest of their tracks were filled with long waves of hair flying back and forth across the stage, drums being beaten worse than Jeb Bush in 2016, and sounds that bring to mind an ethereal sound, like the distant rumbling of a derelict building collapsing on itself.

Afterwards, somehow, some way, I found myself with a take out box of cheese curds… laying drunk on a stained mattress in some dump.