Though hardcore loves to pretend it’s averse to deifying its individual participants, the genre’s history proves that’s a good dose of bullshit. Entire careers were built on the backs of unpredictably energetic singers and guitar players’ distinct, thundering riffs (or lack thereof). Thirdface aren’t interested in continuing that tradition. On their debut album, Do It With a Smile, the Nashville-based hardcore punk band—comprised of vocalist Kathryn Edwards, bassist Maddy Madeira, guitarist David Reichley, and drummer Shibby Poole—refocus on hardcore as a collective action, bringing it from the idealized cultural imagination into the tangible present. The result is an intense, rapid-fire call to arms that inspires even the most acquiescent listeners to take action.
Thirdface prioritize melodic clarity in their songs in a way that brings to mind the creative fury of Los Angeles hardcore group Dangers or the exhilarating build-ups of Modern Life Is War, but whereas those peers do so in a way that embraces hooks, Thirdface opt for shape-shifting guitar passages more akin to Converge or Drowningman. In 22 minutes, they use this sound to tackle covert racism and clout-chasing men while invoking cultural touchstones like Buffy the Vampire Slayer, Black westerns, and Fist of the North Star. On “Ally,” Edwards mocks those who misunderstand the point of racial support (“I read all the books/Where is my medal?”) and on “Chosen,” calls out institutionalized practices that uphold misogyny.
These themes aren't just armchair criticisms. Outside of the band, Edwards strives to bring her ethical beliefs to life through Drkmttr, an all-ages music venue she co-founded in East Nashville. Dubbed “the center of the city’s growing indie, punk, and hardcore scenes” by Rolling Stone, Drkmttr transformed over the past year from a DIY club into a community hub championed by the likes of Soccer Mommy and Hayley Williams for its involvement in grassroots activism, mutual aid work, and voter education. When Edwards screams about frail allyship and wage suppression in Thirdface, she’s doing so with the type of well-versed speech that comes from someone who does the work and then questions how to improve upon it. In a way, it’s like a modern-day version of The Lumpen, the funk band started by the Black Panthers after realizing that youth meal programs, community health clinics, and police accountability wouldn’t revolutionize the fight for racial equality without simultaneously spreading the word.
If Thirdface use music to advocate for change, then “Villains!” is undoubtedly their opus. Clocking in at three minutes, it’s a lengthy screed compared to the rest of Do It With a Smile’s songs, and Thirdface wisely divide it into sections: an introduction guided by Madeira’s guttural bass, a punk speedrun dominated by Poole’s maniacal drumming, and a metalcore-tinged breakdown that alternates between head-banging riffs and dexterous triplets. Throughout, Edwards rails against the exploitation of low-wage slavery with vein-bursting barks meant to provoke a communal uprising. “We could put their backs against the wall/Keep us all divided, fighting over pennies,” she screams. “Back into it now/You have no choice/Do it with a smile.” It’s a rousing poem set to an inspired blend of subgenres, and the combination epitomizes hardcore punk at its best.
Do It With a Smile captures the feeling of a live band battling for the audience’s attention. Thirdface forgo screeching feedback or the crackling hum of an amp to instead employ graceful transitions between songs, like using bass drum kicks to segue from a claustrophobic burst of power violence in “Legendary Suffering” into the open-air breakdowns of “No Requiem For The Wicked.” With the exception of a lone ambient interlude, it’s an unrelenting album meant to purge listeners of their indifference towards the struggles occurring around them. As with all great orators, Edwards knows that making a lasting impression comes down to what you say and how you say it. On Do It With a Smile, she handles both with the ease of a veteran speaker helming a rally. “Blood/On our children/Blood/On my people,” she shouts on “Buck” before her bandmates join in a communal warning cry: “Tonight we ride the fuck out.”
Buy: Rough Trade
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