Mesh - No Fun At All
Feel It
It's been a long five-year wait for some new MESH. The Philly four-piece's certain offset, upset, séance-like Post-Punk air was sorely missed in the years in between.
The album artwork throws up images of Ray Bradbury's 'Something Wicked This Way Comes' from the breadbin of my mind. In months/years previous to this release, Sims Hardin - u2_is_a_government_drone on Instagram - has been giving us his monthly picks as a Punk columnist for Bandcamp; in October of 2024 Allison, along with her twin sister Shawn, released their debut EP Strum under the Picture That moniker. I'm not entirely sure where/what Tom Riese or Steve Darling have been/been up to. Singles in "Violent Peasant" and "Atrophy" lead the way to July 24th.
It's clear that the band aren't too caught up with the five year chasm between projects.
'The old days are gone
And we're moving along
And if you don't change there'll be nothing left to hold on to'
The world in which MESH first stepped into is long gone - a figment of our imagination; a space for the history books to twist and misconstrue. Violent peasants with their animalistic ways. Plebians. Should-have-known-betters.
'Boots on the pavement
Now we're dancing in the basement'
The goods purposely poisoned and pushed underground; we are not responsible for what we cannot see. Hear no Evil; See no Evil; Speak no Evil. Hands off. Let them kill themselves. Crabs in a bucket with the world on boil.
Dreams atrophy; they die long, slow deaths. The colour fades from view. The feeling wanes away. Your soul disappears and simultaneously tightens. Caught in a liberal hell.
'He's got no eyes
He's got no legs
He's got no arms
He's just a head
He's got no moustache
He's got no hat
Chips for skin
Potatohead'
It's a fun frenzy; about as serious as a chocolate dog. On the other hand and in the same breath, from "CIA Mind Control" to "5G", MESH have a certain paranoia around the mind-hacking potentials of modern life; the brainworms that burrow deep in the mind of us all; the thought worlds which allow for the surveillance of private lives and intimate moments; the broken-down barrier between right and wrong. The walls are coming down; the veil is coming off. Their prying hands have found your throat, and they will only tighten with time, and with absolute pleasure. Squeezing the life out of everything until it is just you in your bag of bones with a neat little dollar sign tattooed on your forehead; an advertisement for modern living. Every soul is a goal. Seen as normal as everyone's at it. The puppet strings remain attached. Only willing participants get fractal'd up, but we all get caught in the crossfire.
I'm a regular guy: two arms and two legs; ten fingers and ten toes - whether you count thumbs and big toes is your disposition; upload pics of my favourite wheels of cheese to socials; own three pairs of shoes: a pair for work, a pair for leisure and a pair for sleeping in; along with the shoes to sleep, a pair of night-vision goggles to see my lucid dreams with, a well-clad man; the sink is always empty, the shower drain is always full; toast done on one side, as God intended. I'm a regular guy.
No Fun At All closes on the singalong of "Quit My Job". Potential avenues roll around this earth. Fun in the face of adversity; a swing in your step with no good reason for it; a smile on your face to say 'up yours' to the lingo of life.
MESH place a smile on their faces while singing through the pain.
Much love to MESH; much love to Philly.
