Trauma Plate - Demo

Jonah Hamilton sings in Rat Bastard at Gacy's Place in 2016. Photo by Aaron Rhodes.

Kansas City's punk scene has hit something of a rough patch the last 12 months. Aside from standout records from Loss Prevention and Mentira, which were mostly wrapped up before the lockdowns hit, there have been fewer highlights than usual. My diagnosis would be that with no shows to attend, finding new musicians to play with has become more difficult, leaving more heads on the way out the door than on the way in. A handful of familiar faces (members of Prüde, Loss Prevention, Tremenda Venganza, and others) have tried to remedy this in the new outfit Trauma Plate, but their success may prove more limited than they hope.

The band's demo was released online earlier this week and holds only a couple bright spots, one of which is the vocal performance of Jonah Hamilton. Known simultaneously as one of the scene's rowdiest and most lovable members of the last decade, Hamilton has grabbed the mic again for the first time since his band Rat Bastard released its final tape in 2015. Hamilton's gravelly, indignant shouts cut through his band's racket with ease, and like any solid hardcore frontperson, his scowl is nearly visible on the recording.

One of two worthwhile tracks is the eponymous "Trauma Plate." The song is a straightforward early '80s hardcore rocker, complete with chainsaw guitar tone. The only snag is that its composition is quite similar to the demo's opening track, "Caustic Cleanser," which precedes it and itself ends with an unearned instrumental freakout. Though it doesn't reinvent the wheel, the mid-paced mosh part on "Rude" conjures the image of a throng of sweaty, leather-and-denim-clad punks crawling across a basement floor, capped with a satisfying guitar squeal before the song launches back into full-gear. 

Elsewhere on the demo, the band's playing is relatively sloppy and its writing fairly uninteresting. The final track, "Keeper Of The Stones," begins to drag halfway through its two-minute runtime and is particularly awkward in its rhythm. This isn't to say Trauma Plate is doomed to mediocrity. Like most punk bands, it seems evident that their songs would play better in a live setting where the band and its fans can pound a few beers and enjoy the timeless thrill of near-injury-via-mosh-pit. And, with the state of live music still in limbo, the guys have some time to practice, too.

 

Stream and download the demo below.