Fans of pavement-scraping New York hatenoise along the lines of UNSANE and early HELMET should already be familiar with the liverish slice of rancid loud that is JJ PARADISE PLAYER'S CLUB. Put simply, if you buy FUDGE TUNNEL CDs out of the dollar bin to impress upon unwary friends, and if the words "produced by Alex Newport" make you salivate, and you still cherish tattered print copies of early '90s Amphetamine Reptile record catalogs, PLAYERS CLUB is your favorite band in the world, whether you know it or not.
Been out of touch with these guys for a while now, and this EP is a pleasant surprise — lots of that phlegmatic angry kill-you rock from before, but a surprising sense of melodic dissonance and, in a few places, even some flat-out catchiness! "Safety Word" is blatantly melodic, while "Things You Can't Imagine" is jagged and feral, with some of those hoarse Page Hamilton-ian vox that scream urban angst. I tell ya, if the new HELMET would have had this much depth, heart, and heft to it, it might not have stiffed on arrival.
Though closer "Song To Make You Hate Me" is a one-note joke, the rest of "Coextinction" is powerful stuff – the band's one-dimensional roar of old has developed a bit without losing a bit of its ferocious edge. Hopefully more people will hear this, because PLAYERS CLUB are evolving into the US underground's best-kept secret. This is heavy, undiluted, unhyphenated rock music with its hometown's grimy fingerprints all over it.