Release Date: Aug 20, 2013
Record label: Infinity Cat Recordings
Genre(s): Pop/Rock, Alternative/Indie Rock, Alternative Metal, Heavy Metal, Noise-Rock
Yeah, the name. You won’t get used to it. Circle Jerks, you get used to. Pissed Jeans, you can sort of shrug off. But Diarrhea Planet…unless the band becomes Nashville’s answer to The Clash, their moniker will always impede their music on some level. Hell, try even writing a paragraph about ….
Depending on where your head is at, you're either going to pass on a band called Diarrhea Planet based on the name alone or welcome them as a potential new favorite. If you can get past the admittedly gnarly band name and sophomoric aesthetic, this six-piece band from Nashville is actually seriously fun and extremely well put together. The group's sound is caught in a web of different hard rock reference points and classic punk influences as well, with album opener "Lite Dream" starting with a triumphant whirlwind of multiple solos before singer Hodan Dickie excitedly declares "Heavy metal rotting out my brian!!" The song builds upward, sounding somewhere between Judas Priest at their most lively and early Dinosaur Jr.
Looks like all that shitting around Diarrhea Planet has been doing for the past three years has finally paid off. Nashville’s most garishly-named punk-pop outfit has splattered itself all over the local rock scene after sharing basement stages with Infinity Cat labelmates like JEFF the Brotherhood, Natural Child, and Heavy Cream, and heavy touring with the likes of Titus Andronicus and Fucked Up. Maybe those babies just got enough distance from music school and became accustomed to the crisp taste of freedom and PBR, but the upcoming release of their second full-length shows some growing up, as they transition from merely being Nashville’s bathroom-humored boy-band spoof to devout rock ‘n’ rollers.
I was lucky: I was spared the knowledge of Diarrhea Planet's name when I discovered them. Walking into a low-ceilinged club in Austin at this year's South by Southwest, I was assaulted by the sight of six twenty-something guys, all shirtless, seemingly none of them over 5"4, essentially scaling the walls. There were guitars played behind backs, over heads, with teeth.
Onstage, the members of this execrably named Nashville outfit come off like college sketch-troupe goofs who just downed some 40s, broke into a Guitar Center and decided to celebrate by holding the loudest, messiest shred-off known to man. But Rich proves there are chops beneath the slop: "Lite Dream" starts as a dank sweat-along anthem before turning into a gloriously riffing Thin Lizzy homage, while "Kids" proves the U.S. can still produce the kind of finger-tapped fist-pumpers it used to export in the Eighties.
I have a feeling that 50 years from now, some gray-haired cultural critic will write a tome on Nashville garage rock of the 2000-teens, and he’s going to start the Diarrhea Planet chapter with “Diarrhea Planet exploded onto the scene with a little experience, a lot of noise, and a lot of pizza. ” The word “exploded” will be used not only because of the image in evokes in relation to the band’s nose-wrinkling moniker, but also because in 50 years, when the OED is double the size it is now, there still will be no other word that more accurately describes Diarrhea Planet. They’re noisy as heck, due in part to the fact that there are six of them: Casey Hodan, Jordan Smith, Mike Boyle, Brent Toler, Evan Bird and Emmett Miller.