The Locust, with Erase Errata
Thursday, March 13, Club Fat Cat, 4216 Washington Avenue, 713-869-5263
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Like a worm boring through a rotten apple, the Locust has gnawed its way out of San Diego and through post-hardcore punk America. Dressed like both Zapatistas and fashionistas, they prove that punk's original slash-and-burn audacity is not dead yet. "People should put more danger into their punk ethics," opines singer Justin Pearson, who walked that walk by once appearing on Jerry Springer and later by plastering stickers all over San Diego urging people to kill radio talk show host Roger Hedgecock. But shtick and politics aside, the band's plentitude of cryptic one-minute onslaughts is sonic ground zero, where the trembling balance between fan expectation and art sabotage blurs and even explodes. -- David Ensminger