Bum Kon

These days, it seems as if every early ’80s hardcore band that history forgot are an "unsung gem.” At least, this is what proponents of the first generation would have us believe with the re-release of Denver contingent Bum Kon. Despite wallowing in obscurity then and now, their only effort, Drunken Sex Sucks, has been hyped up into a "must-have.” Revisiting Bum Kon’s less testosterone-driven Black Flag-meets-Minor Threat (if Ian MacKaye had more of that West coast laidback attitude) on Drunken Sex Sucks is not the epiphany most pundits claim, but it does have merit. The album is slightly more melodic/less frantic than Dirty Rotten-era D.R.I.; it’s a nice slice of brazen pre-crossover even if it does grow as thin as its basement-quality recording over the course of 25 songs. In small doses, Drunken Sex Sucks is a solid blast of old school hardcore from a time when tunes were short, punchy and snottier than a toddler with hay fever, but it’s far from essential.