Fordists – Watch You

The Fordists
Watch You
Amor Y Lucha

Washington DC is a city of spooks. Around every god damn corner you will find some twisted looking bastard, with tightly pursed lips and a terror in their eyes and you know that idiotic motherfucker works for one of the eight billion fucking “intelligence” agencies that our ever paranoid government has set up and funded at your expense over the last ten years. They are so prevalent and terrifying, one can only come to the conclusion that these paranoid, uptight bastards are being bread. And that is actually true now. Thousands of new buildings have sprung up around our nations once beautiful capital to house and employ literally millions of people who bought into the bullshit taught to them in high school and college in an effort to spy on our neighbors, countries abroad and you and I. Massive amounts of data is collected daily and haphazardly analyzed by people not intelligent enough to drive a car 10 miles without getting in a deathly accident in a failing effort to protect us. Washington D.C. is a scary place.

With this back drop of suburban sprawl, scary parents, and total spy warfare going on, it’s not really a wonder that The Fordists exist. This trio of young lad’s are clearly paranoid. No, this isn’t the spazzed out, hardcore inspired music of Washington DC in the 1990’s. The Fordists are far too angular and calculating for such unabashed destruction. And this attention to detail works in their favor, making the best, post-rock spy music one has ever heard.

Drenched in flavors of the best parts of a post-punk apocalypse, The Fordists make a new sound. It’s rooted in familiar territory, but it’s so fresh and scary. The pounding, distorted bass is the sound of a hammer of hands pounding on your skull. The guitars weave this cutting pattern of steel threads through your brain, each point felt, the small streams of blood accumulating at your feet. The drums placed well in the mix, hit with precision but tend to be at their own pace and speed, regardless of the paranoid musing of the rest of the band. It’s all quite terrifying, especially when one considers this band isn’t trying to overload you with power and noise and volume. Things are by no means pretty, but those images of steel beams being erected in place of trees along the Potomac river make you feel like maybe nature is growing those buildings. That is the sound of Fordists.

Listening to music that feeds your own paranoia, reminding you of Fahrenheit 451, Brave New World and 1984  is probably not that great for your health, but that doesn’t fail to make The Fordists one of the most interesting bands to come out of Washington DC. The lineage is there, and that makes me miss my former home a bit, but like so many other great bands, they take that legacy and put a unique, new and in this case down right nightmarish twist into the whole thing. Anthropologically, The Fordists makes sense in this day and age. These three young men came of age in a time of terror, that was talked about in the riddles of racism, hatred and persecution. Meanwhile, the landscape of their childhood was torn apart by awesome machines and the hands of men redirected their sight lines to massive edifices of concrete and glass. That DC’s youth didn’t pull some kind of crazy, utopian suicide pack ala Suicide Club is a god damn miracle. Instead, The Fordists display the fear and hope people can feel simultaneously and created something truly interesting.

1 Comment

  1. now updated to make sense. coffee and impetuousness are a motherfucker.


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