"Pup shows are wild. Their music feels like it’s bursting through the seams on record, with guitars high and heavy in the mix and shouted gang vocals at every corner of every song; their live set is the plain that this music reaches once its through the seams."
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Must See
Illuminati Hotties, Potty Mouth and PUP
Elevation // Grand Rapids, MI // September 29th, 2019
Photos by Kendra Petersen Kamp // Review by Jordan Petersen Kamp
Pup’s US tour for their latest album Morbid Stuff came to a close with a sold out show at Elevation in Grand Rapids, Michigan on Sunday, September 29.
When Morbid Stuff was released in April, it felt like a celebratory moment for punk and punk adjacent music. Pup makes fast, loud, hook-filled punk music—the type of music some people have spent about a decade carelessly complaining doesn’t exist anymore.When the album afforded the Toronto band their late night TV debut on Late Night with Seth Meyers it was not an arrival or an announcement that punk music is back; it was a reminder that punk music has been here all along.
Morbid Stuff is an album full of exactly what the title promises; it’s a disarming and weirdly energetic dose of some good ol’ fashioned morbid stuff. Frontman Stefan Babcock leaves every twisted, knotty thought that might pop into his head out in the open. And damn, is it fun.
Potty Mouth
Illuminati Hotties
After a raucous set from Illuminati Hotties— complete with on-stage beer-chugging and lopsided, grungy pop songs—a schmaltzy brass rendition of the title track from Morbid Stuff played Pup onto the stage. The arrangement had the pomp of an Oscars ceremony and I have expected the band to awkwardly thank their moms along with the academy.
As soon as they were in place, they began tearing through the song as it sounds on the album. With guitars replacing horns, some of the pageantry was tossed aside, but the grandiosity never left.
PUP
Pup shows are wild. Their music feels like it’s bursting through the seams on record, with guitars high and heavy in the mix and shouted gang vocals at every corner of every song; their live set is the plain that this music reaches once its through the seams. In concert, a song like “Full Blown Meltdown” hits with an extremely concentrated dose of hype— even the people at the bar lose their minds. The mosh pit begins in earnest as soon as the band begins playing and doesn’t let up until they stop.
“If I’ve gotten to know you, I guess that means I like you enough,” said Babcock during a tuning lull mid-show. It felt like he was drawing boundaries, or at least exposing the limits of the band’s connection to their audience; as if he was saying, “some of us are friends, but not all of us.” This type of clarification feels important for a band that plays to rooms that are so passionate every night and tours constantly. Touring is emotionally and physically exhausting—Pup wrote a whole album to that tune in 2016’s The Dream is Over. It’s easy to assign over-exaggerated sentiments of connection and community to punk shows and if you’re a band like Pup, those can start to feel like harmful lies.
Pointing out the limits of a punk show doesn’t make it less special. It’s actually a nice dose of honesty. It allows people to celebrate what really is instead of some sanguine vision of a big, happy family. A Pup show is just a rock concert, but the band shows why that’s something still worth celebrating.
Pup’s music is candid about what problems haven’t been dealt with and/or are being avoided. At one of their shows, where you’re seeing strangers climb all over each other, it’s easy to take stock of the arrested development in your own life—the things you’ve set aside to deal with later, which turns into never.
It’s a small thing, but towards the end of the band’s set I texted a friend I haven’t seen in a long time and asked if he wanted to cheat a drink and catch up.
