Akimbo.

SINCE MOVING to Seattle from California five months ago, I've lived off of a steady diet of vices that have included second hand smoke, coffee, cheap malt liquor, and heavy rock. Locals suggest ample doses of each to combat the nine-month-long winters, and like the coffee shop pushers that lurk on every corner, there are no shortages of metal, hardcore, and rock bands playing in the clubs downtown to get your rock 'n' roll fix. My sonic indulgence and mainstay has been local rockers Akimbo.

Akimbo is a self proclaimed "Seattle Band" that plays "a classically old-heavy, with punk rock sensibility." Akimbo are three dudes and one tight bro, who would gladly give up the warmth and comfort of their beds and jobs to tour the US in their van The Crusher. Akimbo says they are a band without a schtick, which isn't entirely true, as they deliver the most exciting, uncomfortable and dangerous rock show you've seen since your first Melvins concert. To achieve that "super old '70s heavy," Akimbo recorded their sophomore release in the old Seattle Paradox Theatre with its gigantic ceilings and enormous rooms, using vintage guitars and amps along with analog recording equipment. The outcome from the five-day recording session was Elephantine (Dopamine/Amalagate), a record that captures the band's overwhelming raw fury live, in a little over 30 minutes. Jon Weisnewski, bassist and vocalist explains their intention: "When we're recording a record, we don't want to do anything that doesn't sound like what we do live. We want to capture the live sound as best we can." Drummer Nat Datum adds, "That's why we don't like using Pro-Tools, cause it is sort of like cheating. If you can't pull your record off live and if your sound isn't naturally thick enough to do with two other people, then you shouldn't be recording that." On the record and live, Jon's vocals are almost unintelligible through guitarist Jared Burke Eglington's extreme riffage. "We have always used lyrics as the icing on the cake. There are lyrics and concepts for each song--it's not just jibberish, but we don't have an agenda. It's the sound we like, and it's really fun to perform live. We're not one of those bands that talks forever between songs and tells people how the world should be according to us," says Jon.

Even on paper, the lyrics are obscure and vague on songs like "The Art of Asphyxiation" or "Bitten from the Thigh of Zeus." Only a trilogy of songs about Carcharodon Megaldoon, the "total badass" predecessor to the great white shark, reveals Jon's life-long obsession and alludes to some of the other individual's idiosyncrasies that make this band's version of heavy rock all their own.

"We don't have much of a schtick, so I want people to see Akimbo and think 'I could do that,' or inspire younger kids that they don't have to be in an insane math rock or in a dynamic indie rock band, that they can just rock. Rock music should make people feel uncomfortable," explains Burke. Nat agrees. "I want our shows to be exciting and dangerous. I don't want people to get hurt, but I want them to have the feeling that it could happen. I don't want people to be fighting, but I want them so into the music they don't care what is happening to them."

Akimbo cares. They want people to know that. They play their instruments like they care. They perform like they care. They will tour the states three times in a van that is much older than them, kill Bambi in Texas, lose some teeth in a brawl in Boston, and still show up and play a show. And if by chance they happen to get kicked off the bill in Wisconsin they'll find a frat party to play because, they care. Akimbo cares so much about your emotional and physical well being, they are going to give you hard rock so great you won't even notice when the sun finally comes out in June.