Lyric Video: Seattle’s The Unfit Return with a Feral Howl into the Void

Formed back in 2012, the Seattle-based punk act The Unfit — longtime friends and grizzled Seattle scene veterans Jake Knuth, Michael Lee, T.J. Johnson and Tyler Johnson — have a history of sporadic recording sessions and scattered postings of tracks online. But after a decade of being together, the members of the Seattle-based punk quartet will finally be releasing their self-titled, full-length debut on June 5, 2020 through Share It Music. 

The Unfit’s full-length debut finds the band firmly establishing their sound, a sound that draws from ’80s and ’90s punk, grunge and indie rock in a way that’s forceful and extremely loud. Thematically, the album touches upon finding meaning, belonging and honesty in a bleak and unrelenting hells cape, where those things are difficult to find — and figuring out a way to cope with the lack thereof.  Interestingly, the material is underpinned by the sentiment that in our morally bankrupt world, the survival of the fittest is tilted towards those with the greatest capacity for dishonesty, grift, shamelessness and zealous self-interest, and that one can perhaps take pride in finding belonging as one of the proverbial unfit.

Last month, I wrote about the album’s feral and furious ripper “Caged Rats and Hamster Wheels,” a mosh pit friendly song and incisive criticism of the capitalist rat race that was seemingly fueled by the desperate urgency of our moment. “The Picture,” the Seattle-based act’s latest single further establishes the band’s knack for crafting feral and cathartic rippers — but in this case, “The Picture” may be the most desperate song of the album released to date: it’s an a power chord-driven howl into an unceasing and indifferent void.

“It’s about the terror and sadness that overcomes me when I think about the fact that my memory is me and that my memory is limited and impermanent – and everything that I am and every moment, however profound, however beautiful, will go away and, for all anyone knows or cares, ultimately might as well never have existed,'” the band’s Jake Knuth explains in press notes. “The song is also a sort of way of grieving for me – over the loss of youth, loss of partners and loved ones, loss of various parts of me and my life that I will never get back. I want to preserve and remember these things, these profound moments and feelings, but it will all ultimately fade away.  

 

 

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