Militarie Gun Had A Dazed Sunday Afternoon Crowd Fully Locked In At Project Pabst

Sam Gehrke

Militarie Gun Had A Dazed Sunday Afternoon Crowd Fully Locked In At Project Pabst

Sam Gehrke

Day 2 of Project Pabst — the resurrected Portland music festival where Stereogum was a media partner this year — began much like the previous day. The slightly overcast sky and pleasant breeze lasted for the first hour of the festival, giving way to relentless cheery sunshine. By 2:30PM on Sunday, the crowd was a bit thinner than Saturday but a little more lively. Saturday leaned toward black shirts and denim; Sunday was a more traditional mix of festival attire: colorful fits, glitter, dramatic sunglasses. Everyone was drifting, not in a rush to get anywhere. At the south end of the festival on the “Captain Pabst” stage, Kenny Mason did an admirable job of activating the small crowd that had filtered over. “Y’all probably only on your first or second beer,” he said between songs, “But my job is turn you the fuck up. We’re gonna work together.” And he really did get people moving. As I headed to the other stage, I heard him responding to an audience member: “I fuck with you too, thank you.”

The positive vibes carried over to the first real destination set of the day – Militarie Gun. The crowd had been diffuse up until now, straggling between stages and applying a second round of sunscreen from the industrial sized pump jug at the Medical tent. As Militarie Gun took the stage, everyone seemed to push in toward the front in anticipation.

Although Militarie Gun are still ostensibly a hardcore band, their output has slowly but surely shifted to improbably catchy, tuneful indie rock. In a recent interview with Kerrang, Ian Shelton said, “The goal was to write something that felt like a classic rock record…You’re trying to find this balance and combination that is de-aggressifying things that are hardcore, and then making the non-hardcore things more aggressive. You’re making it all meet in the middle, but not in a way of compromise, but as a vision.”

The vision is specific and singular. Militarie Gun opened with “Seizure Of Assets,” a punch-drunk Third Eye Blind bounce that never quite settles into a chorus, but instead treats every part of the song like the chorus. This is their wheelhouse right now: midtempo indie rock that treats radio rock and Guided By Voices with equal reverence. “Think Less,” also from their album Life Under The Gun, has sticky hooks in the chorus, but the verses feel drawn much more from classic hardcore.

“Ain’t no flowers when you die.” These are the only words Shelton had said when the band launched into “Ain’t No Flowers,” a highlight from their 2021 EP All Roads Lead To The Gun. The mystery and the magic of what Militarie Gun do is that it doesn’t feel like any of this should work. It feels like there’s not enough dynamic range, too much of one speed, too many influences crowding the interesting, angular hardcore they debuted with. But as they began to weave back and forth between their recent indie rock material and the early hardcore, it felt like a natural fit, not a journey through disparate eras. Whatever the map for this band is, it’s obviously clear in Shelton’s mind, and his unwavering commitment to whatever Militarie Gun are doing is slowly evolving from “cool kinda different hardcore band” into one of the more consistently interesting bands working right now.

Every song slid to a quick, unceremonious end, as if to say, “You get it, let’s get on to the next one.” Eventually Shelton succumbed to the heat and ditched his crewneck sweater to reveal a sick Gorillaz tee. “You could be doing literally anything else with your time, but you’re doing this,” he said, and it felt genuinely grateful, not self-deprecating.

“Though You Were Waving,” their most recent release, feels like an obvious catalog highlight and sounded great live. The last time I saw Militarie Gun in Portland was the cramped concrete box of a venue, Mano Oculta, where the energy of their performance translated better than the actual sonics. On a big stage, I was struck by how excellent they sounded, how totally dialed the five-piece was. The guitars were huge, the mix was great, and Shelton’s energy didn’t let up for a moment.

They played the wrestling intro they recently penned for Post Malone’s forthcoming video game, after which Shelton wondered aloud if people who didn’t know their band were really confused by the minute-long heavy instrumental riff. “If you didn’t like it…That sucks for you,” he said with a laugh. “Disposable Plastic Trash” got people moving, and a nascent push pit began to form. As the song ended, Shelton looked down to the ASL translator signing the lyrics at the front of the stage. “It was like the Waka Flocka moment,” he said, “I looked down and went, ‘What the fuck is going on.'” He proceeded to lead the audience in applauding the translator – the first person I saw all day even acknowledge their efforts. The translator signed the applause along with the crowd.

Shelton doesn’t take much time between songs; his introductions are to-the-point and funny. “Shout out to people who are fucked up,” he said. “I’m a fucked up person.” He paused. “This song is about how I never fucked up once.” The band plays “Never Fucked Up Once” and “Don’t Pick Up The Phone” (“This song goes out to anyone on drugs. Or anyone who wants to get off drugs. It’s called ‘Don’t Pick Up The Phone’…on drugs”), and the crowd continued to get rowdier. We don’t have a bunch of hardcore kids here – I saw a lot of goofy and cheerful bouncing, spinning, and push-pitting–but everyone seemed to be locking in to the band’s energy.

Militarie Gun have been closing with “Very High” and “Do It Faster,” their calling-card tunes at the moment, but I was surprised they didn’t do the bit they’ve become fond of: playing “Do It Faster” three, four, or five times in a row. The band ended their set five minutes early, seeming content with getting through all their songs in the allotted window, and they let the one runthrough of “Do It Faster” suffice for the day. Always leave ’em wanting a little more.

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