Every few years I find myself listening to Fugazi, reminded at what a great band they were, then thinking, wait, they never officially broke up. What are they up to? Ian MacKaye and Amy Farina (drummer from The Warmers), formed The Evens in 2001, before Fugazi even stopped touring, eventually also embarking on the exciting/terrifying adventure of marriage and kids. Their three albums released in 2005, ’06 and ’12 did not really grab me as they had more in common with 90’s slowcore indie than the couples’ previous post-hardcore bands.
As it neared two decades since Fugazi stopped being active, I returned to those Evens albums, and in hindsight can hear plenty of creative juices flowing. MacKaye took up the baritone guitar for the versatility of covering both bass and guitar parts, and fresh ideas still rolled out, albeit very, very slowly and gently. Then a few years ago I learned that MacKaye and Farina formed a new band with Joe Lally, as yet unnamed. Exciting news, as 50% of Fugazi is better than nuthin. Then they tortured me with the news that they had an album recorded and in the can, but put the release on hold until Lally finished touring duties with the fabulous math rock/jazz fusion/prog punk project The Messthetics, with Anthony Pirog and Fugazi bandmate Brendan Canty. A year later, the band name Coriky was finally announced and a release date for the album.
For a while it appeared that a Fugazi reunion might never happen. While there was no indication that everyone didn’t get along, Guy Picciotto hasn’t been involved in music at all that I’m aware of. Fugazi has always forged their own path, and the fact that most bands do tend to reunite doesn’t mean anything to them. They said they’d only do so if they were inspired to create new music together, but that would never happen unless they actually got together. But at this point, I think I’m okay with that. Because while Coriky is by no means Fugazi, they do scratch a Fugazi-like itch in the fact that the tension that precedes potential explosiveness is back thanks in part to Joe Lally’s bass. The debut album from Coriky might be set mostly to simmer, but that doesn’t mean it isn’t a corker.
The songwriting has returned to bottled up political rage and protest songs, starting with “Clean Kill,” about possibly a soldier ruminating after a shift of drone strikes, “it’s a clean kill but it’s not clean” Then at 2:50 there’s a two second pause that seems to stretch back two decades. What’s going to happen? Oh shit! It’s the fast but restrained guitar strum that Fugazi perfected with military precision! Are they going to go explodie? Will Ian start screaming? Do it Ian! Do it for your country. We need dis. After a brief and buttery jazz lick from Joe, Ian whispers the chorus. Then the band kicks in much harder and they shout, “Not enough! Soap and water! Never enough! Soap and water!” So not an explosion, but a controlled outburst, and I’ll fuckin’ take it, thank you very much.
“Hard To Explain” also hits some old pleasure buttons with Lally’s bass setting a skulking rhythm and a chorus in which Ian bellows in a way that somehow nods to his pioneering hardcore and post-hardcore past back to Minor Threat, while also sounding fresh and new, subtly assisted by harmonies from Farina. She takes the mic for “Say Yes,” an original, quirky stop-start post-punk ditty that solidifies the fact that Coriky are largely looking forward, creating their own artistic legacy. “Have A Cup Of Tea” sets an ominous mood with Lally’s rumbling, dark ‘n’ dubby bass tones. They shift between Ian’s chants to a melodic harmonized chorus, and in one heated moment he barks, “Pressure’s always on, poison overflowing/ Living with the enemy, living with the enemy, living with the enemy.” Meanwhle the music blossoms into one of the most beguiling tracks so far.
Farina reminds us that this is just as much her band, and “Too Many Husbands” may be her highlight, with lyrics oblique enough to allow some mystery. “Last Thing” is more direct, “last thing we ever wanted was a war.” Throughout the album the mood is dark as the band seethes, watching the country fall apart. “Inauguration Day” is clearly one of band’s early songs, probably written four years ago, but I’ll welcome anything to the album that ends with “pageantry” followed by a rare scream from Ian MacKaye. The slow, quiet Farina led “Woulda Coulda” wraps it up, and feels like a good moment to catch your breath, as you realize what a powerful album this is, and you prepare to dive in again.
It’s been strange days, not just since the pandemic, but during the entirety of the past four years as we watch our democracy be systematically dismantled in front of our eyes, soundtracked by some of the shittiest pop music in history in the charts. It’s encouraging to know that great art can still grow amidst the shitpiles as Coriky has done in the heart of the beast in D.C.
