What the fuck do Weekend Nachos owe this world? Nothing but misery and pain. And certainly no apologies for those sentiments.
You might have heard by now that Weekend Nachos are calling it quits after twelve years. Hell, I remember reading the surprise on their Twitter feed that they lasted ten. And I remember missing their ten year celebration when I lived in the Midwest, which sucked because I’d been listening to the band since their Torture EP (and running a crappy, yet weirdly popular Facebook Hardcore page at the time). So reviewing Apology for me is pretty bittersweet, but also necessary closure.
You should already know if you’re a Nacho, or into Weekend Nachos, or whatever. They’ve been stuck in a love/hate tryst (largely against their will) due to their soaring popularity within the hardcore scene. And the larger their discography grows, the less they have to, well, apologize for. By now the band’s gained enough notoriety that if you’re into grind or hardcore/punk (or better yet, powerviolence) you should know the name. And Apology is exactly the kind of album you should be expecting from the band. Though the band has more or less shed their powerviolence roots, there’s no doubt they’re still punk as hell and grind as hell.
Apology can be aptly summarized as a kinda “greatest hits” album. Sounds kinda fucked up, doesn’t it? After all, it’s all new material. Yeah, but Weekend Nachos have around the block more than once and they’re not going for any stylistic shifts. Apology is exactly the kind of album you’d expect from the band. It’s raw, feedback riddled, sludgy, grinding and purely goddamn punk. But you’d be forgiven for thinking that when the band opens with the sludge drenched, almost six-minute opener “2015.” It serves as both a promise and a threat. They’re not going to go quietly. And to that I say, good.
Apology operates as more of a grind/punk album than anything else. It’s the sequel to Still mostly. Weekend Nachos don’t appear to be attempting to outdo themselves on any level. Apology is more an exercise in misanthropy, as well as a continued commentary on (hardcore) scene politics. Because, let’s face it, the only scene politics metal has are against, or for, SJWs (something I want no part of). Hell, Apology even continues to push the band’ sense of humor (see: “Fake Political Song”), while melding their still strong sense of hate. If they’d stuck around for one more album they might have become the Weird Al Yankovich of hardcore. And that would be fucking awesome. Then again, the band has shown an open sense of humor with their merch. I’ve been weirdly awaiting some sort of Revellie parody after the Korn one.
Sidetracked, sidetracked. So how does Apology really work? It’s the kind of album that shows that Weekend Nachos still have the chops. Once you get past the surprisingly long opener, you’re hit with what you’d expect: short, blasting songs that don’t cross the three minute mark until track twelve. It’s another unforgiving exercise in grind, breakdowns and punk attitude. The band still breaks things down like it’s 2006, but they haven’t neglected to grind things out like they did in Still. It brings the two worlds together, which is partially why I referred to it as a “greatest hits” earlier. It’s a compilation of the band’s overall portions. Nothing is forgotten or neglected.
So that has to make one wonder right? I mean, a band that has had a twelve year run, surely they’ve both hit their stride and are just working on staying afloat or cranking out same-y tunes. You’re not wrong for thinking that, but it works two ways. See, Apology is a name that serves to mock. What does Weekend Nachos have to apologize for? John Hoffman and co have said their piece and riffed to their hearts’ content. Apology as a name feels more like a mockery service, kinda like the song “Satan Sucker.” When you play Apology it’ll bring a smile to your face if you’re a long time listener like me; if you helped scream into the microphone like me. It’s like a love letter from someone you know you gotta let go of. It’s a love letter to the era the band existed. But there’s plenty of proof here that there’s still more to give.
The elements of comedy, hatred and horror remains as strong as always. If you don’t see these things you haven’t read into the band enough. Worthless and Still were commentary enough without the help of Unforgivable and Punish and Destroy, but I digress. Hoffman’s wording on “Fake Political Song” is like political comedy (but not, but it is, but maybe it isn’t), whereas “N.A.R.C.” is a pure piece of hate aimed at shit friends. Guitarist Andy Nelson’s serves the band’s sound perfectly, much like he did on Still. The band retains their strangle hold on the listener throughout. Especially when “Night Plans” comes on. It’s like watching the film Maniac (the 1980 one, haven’t seen the remake).
To see Weekend Nachos surrender is, again, bittersweet to me. Apology is the culmination of everything Weekend Nachos is and was (as stated many times already). It’s a fitting send off for the band and should please listeners plenty. It’s been a helluva trip listening to them and it’s never been boring. Maybe the powerviolence purists are happy to see them go. But I only wonder what they’ll whine about next. Who’s stepping in? Apologies for nothing. But thanks for the good times, guys.
You can find me here.