EVERY GENRE PROJECT - May 8 - Egg Punk
Genre of the Day - Egg Punk
Album of the Day - All Of Them Naturals by Uranium Club (2016)
May 8, 2024
Eggs are innately a barrel of fun: they can bring the sunshine to one’s morning (sunny side up), mix things up (scrambled), grace you with elegance (quiches, omlettes), be a bit mischievous at the function (deviled). From my experience in this column, hardcore and punk often carry themselves very seriously. It makes sense: these genres are often more critical of the establishment, more willing to levy political criticisms, to call firmly and angrily for social change. But what way to make punk a little less serious than the addition of some eggs? I fear you just can’t be stoic or mad when eating an egg.
Egg punk is a genre that condensed into form in the 2010s in part thanks to its unseriousness understandably permeating meme culture, but the egginess dates all the way back to the ‘70s. Egg punk is directly derived from a single ‘70s band, Devo. The band made a name for itself through their satirical lyrics and wacky, dadaist visual costuming. Though a unique outlier in the new wave scene in their commercial peak, the band’s timeless sense of whimsical futurism has made them idols to many imitators since. This wave intensified in the 2010s (in Indiana of all places—but don’t call today’s genre Midwest emo) and before the name egg punk was coined, the moniker devocore was applied to these bands.
While egg punk doesn’t take itself too seriously in adhering to typical punk conventions and stylings, it takes many cues from punk’s core theses. It’s quite pared back in terms of sheen, evoking the DIY attitude essential to the best punk. This cheaper approach to production also lends it a timeless, lo-fi energy. Pinched, nasally vocals tend to dominate the singing styles to hammer home the satire and oddness of the lyrics.
Uranium Club was one of the pioneers of egg punk in the mid-2010s, through albums that serve more as a snack like a boiled egg rather than a hearty frittata—today’s album never overstays its welcome at only 25 minutes. Today’s album, their debut, introduces the Uranium Club as some sort of world-dominating multinational conglomeration, and by the time the lyrics of the first proper track “That Clown’s Got A Gun” throw you for a loop (When you ask me to divorce you, I see your performance / Will you please piss on my teddy bear?) they will have infiltrated your mind at least in some capacity. It harkens back to very traditional punk, with the unvarnished, often near-spoken vocals, with added flavor from the menacing surf rock riffs of songs like “God’s Chest”. Nonsensical observations will have you pondering, but only for a second as the next kooky tune pops up: “We are now not human beings / But human been,” (Operation Pt. II). Eggs for thought.