It should come as no surprise that The Spin is no spring chicken anymore. Try as we might to stay hip with the times, we don't move as fast as we used to. Once a step ahead of the game, we're slowly struggling to feel complacent two steps behind. Furthermore, heretofore and henceforth, our heart has grown several sizes larger as of late to learn the kids have once again found punk rock. Saturday night's lineup at DIY venue Glenn Danzig's House assured us it's more than just a passing phase. The venue itself is somewhere between a shitty apartment and a cushy loft, and the sheer quantity of Misfits posters adorning the walls suggested the venue's namesake is possibly more in honor than in jest. We showed up too late to catch Cy Barkley, whose band sometimes bears his entire name and others goes simply by Cy (or Sound Tribe Sector Cy). He delivered a brutally catchy set of three-chord hardcore at NBN, so we've got no reason to believe we missed anything more than more of the same Saturday night.
Next up, local snotty heartthrobs Heavy Cream handed the healthy-sized crowd of youngsters a hot plate of haphazardly competent '76-style punk 'n' roll that occasionally reached some inspiring moments, either by accident or divine intervention. The Spin has never been of the opinion that one needs to know how to play a guitar to write a good song on it, and this band is occasionally a shining example. After their set, the bulk of the room migrated to a small lot out back for cigarettes and shenanigans, only to be called back in minutes later by the announcement that Symptoms (whose album release party this was) were about to play. The local punk purists take a traditional no-surprises, no-prisoners, no-melody approach to '80s-style hardcore a la Black Flag and The Vandals. While there was scarcely a proper mosh pit, it definitely felt like a proper punk show, as we were showered with beer on more than one occasion.
Lastly, we were treated with a rare performance by locals Cheap Time, whose mix of all things punk and '70s is always a source of aural pleasure. Mixing elements of early glam and power pop on a Ramones-y base, the band created a deafening blister of bass and guitar, over which frontman Jeffrey Novak's nasally croon was barely audible. They rolled one tune into another until they had nearly played last year's self-titled record in its entirety.