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As punk rock emerged in the 1970s, it was an act of defiance, rebellion, and disobedience. A middle finger to the status quo, scaring the normies. Eventually, like everything else, it got co-opted by capitalism—becoming a lifestyle brand, packaged, and sold to the masses for safe consumption.
But every now and then, a band comes along that truly refuses to comply, reminding us of what punk is all about. Portland’s feminist-punk no wave quartet, Obedient did just that on their ripper new album Rastafarsi.
The band’s origin story begins in Vermont during the COVID years: To pass the time in lockdown, singer Lacey Karbomb and bassist Heidi Hole started teaching themselves Ramones songs, playing “fast, shitty, and loud,” without much thought of what would become of their beating on the brat.
As time marched on, they decided to start a band. They chose the name Obedient as both a “reaction to being American,” and a clever way to introduce themselves onstage: “Hi, we’re Obedient.” After moving west to Portland, they joined forces with local heavy hitters Black “Nigourney Weaver” Shelton—AKA Kaleb Harrison—shredding guitar, and Bim “Patsy Decline” Ditson behind the drums. The quartet cut their teeth during wild practices, intense shows, and recording a handful of albums, EPs, and singles.
Rastafarsi, their third full-length album, rips through 11 songs in just over 22 minutes. This is pure punk rock—jarring, sludgy, dancey, and raw—exactly what this world needs right now. The pummeling chaos unfurling on Rastafarsi is not for everyone… And that’s a part of what makes it so good. Bands making music for everyone ultimately end up making music for no one.
Lacey Karbomb told the Portland Mercury the album title is ultimately just a joke—wordplay taking in her love of weed (Rasta) and her Persian heritage (Farsi, the primary language of Iran). Hence, Rastafarsi. Given the strained history between the United States and Iran, she sees it as a timely nod to the beauty of Iranian culture that often gets ignored in the global West.
Pulling from a vast assortment of musical influences ranging from X, Public Image Ltd., Butthole Surfers, and The Residents, Rastafarsi is the culmination of four very distinct musical approaches exploding into a cacophony of driving, dancey, punk rock thunder.
Dissonant displays of free jazz saxophone burst, twisting their way through the album, in shocks that would impress Frank Zappa & the Mothers of Invention. It’s rare to hear sax on a punk record these days, Kenny G could never.
Lyrically, the songs run the gamut from politics and relationships, to dreams and reflections on the band itself. Karbomb was intentional in keeping the album’s frameworks diverse, rather than sticking to any one particular theme or topic.
Rastafarsi bucks right out the gate with “303 rats,” featuring a wild, chaotic riff reminiscent of “Purple Haze,” but more Lydia Lunch than Hendrix. Karbomb told the Mercury the song is one of few on the album completely written in studio.
From there, Rastafarsi is a downhill slalom of brutal truth and clever innuendo, screaming and tearing through rebellious scorchers like avant-noise-jazzer “Shock,” the disco-y dunk track “Animal control,” the caustic-chaos groove of “Free lunch,” and the sludgy, time-warping “Who died?”
Clocking in at a mere 43 seconds, the frantic whirlwind of “Can’t trust” leaves heads spinning, before things slow down a bit on the sax-laced, doo-wop punk ballad “Kenny.” The next two songs, “Old man” and “Welcome to the jungle” are not cover songs. Take a wild guess at which one features monkey screams.
The album closes with “Kicking the table,” a hypnotic drum and bass-heavy groove reminiscent of Morphine. Karbomb repeats the song title—many elocutions of it—in a spell-like chant, as sax swirls down shimmery waterfalls of piano, all fading to silence.
Impressively, Rastafarsi was recorded over the course of five days by producer Mike Vasquez at his home studio in Astoria, OR—the four playing everything live, in the same room. As mentioned above, the band actually wrote some of the album’s songs in-studio in Astoria. The sessions were recorded to 24-track, two-inch tape, as any good punk album should be. All the songs that made the album were single takes, with no auto-tune, no edits, and only minor overdubs (like those delicious saxophone parts).
When asked if they used a click track to keep time during the sessions, Karbomb replied in true punk fashion, “I don’t even know what a click track is.”
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Carl Sundberg
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