Of all the hardcore groups I dug in the ’90s (and boy were there plenty), In/Humanity
might be the freshest-sounding group of the bunch. They managed to combine the Gravity
Records scene’s frantic aggression with the brutality of power-violence and the nihilistic
pranksterism of Vermiform into a distinctive and fantastic product. It didn’t sound
like they were trying to play their songs so much as escape from them, as the drums and
guitars played with the speed and intensity of a fiery man running towards a pool. And
of course, they managed to be completely weird, too, releasing a slow-brooding 7″ single
that featured a unique photograph on every cover and an occult-themed final album, not
to mention creating the tongue-in-cheek genre “emo violence” among other gags and tricks.
Vocalist Chris Bickel has been up to numerous things since In/Humanity’s demise, from
the avant-noise explorations of Anakrid to the gut-punching hardcore of Guyana Punch
Line. Below, he provides a little history behind the mystery.

How did In/Humanity get started? Was there some sort of dramatic change that
occured early on? Your first 7″, the Intolerable EP, sounds pretty much nothing
like the rest of the band’s discography…
I was living in a very small town in South Carolina. There weren’t really other people
to play music with. Only a handful of people in the town listened to any sort of punk or
hardcore at all. This kid Paul moved down from Albany, NY. He was really into the NYHC
scene. He was a couple of years younger than me and managed to get a couple of local younger
kids to play with him. We found each other quickly because it was a small town and anyone
into hardcore was bound to find each other. So we first started playing as Tolerance, which
was very short-lived. After some line-up changes, we changed the name of the band to
In/Humanity. It was a weird band from the start, because Paul was into all of this NYHC music
and I was mostly listening to peace-punk. I already had a label at that point, Stereonucleosis,
and had released a couple of Antischism records before the existence of In/Humanity. So
I released the first In/Humanity record, which really should have been a demo tape. It
got crucified in reviews because it was in all actuality terrible. We had sold
half the pressing out during our release party. (By the time of the record release I had
moved to Columbia, SC, which was a bigger town and had a supportive hardcore scene –
despite being terrible, we had a following.) Anyway, we realized quickly that we had put
out a bad record, so we destroyed the remainder of the pressing by gouging symbols and
messages into the vinyl with compass-points. We gave those records away free at our shows.
People seemed really happy to be getting a free record! By the time we were destroying
those records, I had gotten Paul to come around to stuff I was listening to at the time,
like Neurosis and Rorschach and Born Against. He was still not crazy about the older
peace-punk stuff I was into, but those newer bands were appealing to him and began informing
his music writing. We put out a few records after that which were all over the place;
we were still trying to find a sound. It wasn’t until the Gets Killed By Robots 7″ EP that
we sort of came into our own. It was fast and chaotic and discordant. Soon thereafter,
we found a new drummer who was more in-tune with the kind of loose chaos we were looking
to create musically, and then we did The Nutty Antichrist LP which I think is the best thing
we ever recorded.

I would probably agree – if I had to recommend an In/Humanity record to someone, it’d
be The Nutty Anti-Christ. Why do you think your music got progressively faster and more
discordant over time? It’s almost like you went the opposite route of a usual hardcore
band progression, ie. “band starts off fast and raw and gets progressively more slick and
mid-paced”.
It really had to do with Paul being exposed to more than NYHC. I could probably take some
credit there, but moreover we were playing gigs with all kinds of different bands. I think
Paul soaked it all up, assimilated it, and it came out as In/Humanity. I know seeing bands
like Dropdead, Initial State, Antioch Arrow, etc., had an effect.

Were there any bands you played with that really blew you away? Bands that made you
really want to step In/Humanity’s game up, so to speak?
Bands that had a profound effect on In/Humanity include but are not limited to Merel, Rorschach,
Dead And Gone, Antioch Arrow, Headache, Los Crudos, BuzzOv*en, Spazz, and many, many more.
Not to mention our good friends in Palatka and The End of the Century Party. Their friendship
probably had the most profound effect on us as a band.

I always wondered, after spinning the Southeast Hardcore, Fuck Yeah! compilation 7″ a
million times, if there really was this comraderie / friendship among those bands, or if
it was strictly geographical. Was there really a bond between most (or some) of the bands on
that compilation?
Yes. All of those bands were friends. We all played many shows with each other. Mostly in the
Gainesville and Tampa scenes. Florida had an amazing hardcore scene in the mid ’90s.

At what point did that whole scene “end”, so to speak? And why do you think it did? Bands
just broke up and people moved away, that sort of thing?
I’d say it started slowly fizzling out by the early ’00s. I couldn’t say why with any
certainty. If we need to level blame, let’s go with “the Internet”.

Was it hard to be punk in the ’90s in South Carolina? Was there a constant battle between
yourself and ignorant bigots, or was it relatively calm?
I took a lot of shit when I lived in the small town. It actually pushed me further into punk
as a philosophy. I had moved to that town from Virginia Beach, VA. In Virginia Beach I was
into punk, metal, rap, classic rock, new wave, a bit of everything. By the time my family
had relocated to South Carolina, I found myself more and more drawn to punk because it was
the antithesis of all the ignorant assholes I was surrounded by. High school there was a
nightmare. “My War” probably saved me from suicide on more than one occasion. It was different
when I relocated to Columbia. I was in college at that point, and yeah, there was a bit
of frat antagonization, but nothing too out of control. So there it wasn’t “hard to be a
punk”. But it was hard to sit by and see so much ignorant bullshit going on culturally
and governmentally. That was a constant source of idiocy to be pissed off about. There
still is, but it was certainly worse then. This is back when they were still flying the
Confederate Flag on the dome of the Statehouse. Conservatism is bad enough, but good-ole-boy
ignorance in positions of power is the worst.

I swear it’s almost the norm for today’s high school kids to be into “punk” music, skating,
tattoos and piercings… stuff that was all pretty counter-cultural or shocking in the ’80s
and even ’90s. It just seems much easier to be “punk” as a teenager these days. Do you ever
wish your were born like twenty years later? Or do you feel like the young generation of
punks have it too easy, maybe?
I wish I had been born ten years earlier so I could have been around for the first wave. I
don’t envy kids born today. Access to information is amazing, and I love it, but that
instant access has stifled some of the character building of having to go out into the world
and find the things that interested you. As well as the character building of taking
some abuse for not fitting in.

I always admired the effort and detail that went into In/Humanity inserts and design… I
used to love laughing at the fake advertisement for ridiculous In/Humanity t-shirts that came
with your first LP. Was that all you?
Yeah. The first punk record I ever bought was the Let Them Eat Jellybeans compilation on
Alternative Tentacles. I was obsessed with the poster insert that came with the record. I
spent hours pouring over it. As I got more and more into punk, I was attracted to the amount
of art and information that many bands (Dead Kennedys and Crass come instantly to mind) were
including with their packaging. I knew that when I was finally putting out records, I wanted
to give the audience that same experience. So we would pack a lot into those inserts. I was
always a class clown growing up, so the inserts always had a sense of humor. I’m not sure how
much of that humor holds up today, but at the time we were having a lot of fun with it. Even
though I had no training or business doing layouts, I enjoyed the shit out of doing them. So
I was responsible for most of the artwork and layout for all of those records. Essentially
In/Humanity was Paul writing all of the music, me doing all of the lyrics and art, and then
whatever two other guys were playing with us at the time. The best and longest-running line
up was Paul and I with Ben Roth on drums and Will Zaledeski on bass.

I think the humor holds up really well, actually. And I felt like, as a punk record consumer
with limited disposable income, In/Humanity cared about the records they were selling, that
the inserts and overall presentation really mattered, because not every random hardcore band
had the chance to do an LP, or even a 7″. I kinda can’t imagine a 2012 hardcore band willingly
glueing different polaroid photos to the cover of every 7″, which I guess, to be fair, was a
feat few bands have completed before. Did you feel that the art was as integral a part of
In/Humanity as I felt like it was?
For me it was equally as important as the lyrics. I never thought of In/Humanity as a “great”
band musically. It was more an art package to me.

I definitely see In/Humanity as a sort of nihilistic provocation that followed in the
footsteps of Feederz, maybe, even though the sounds were totally different. Are there any
bands today that you feel like share or continue the spirit of In/Humanity?
I was a big fan of the Feederz, but at the time probably moreso of Frank Discussion’s writings
in the ReSearch Pranks book. I don’t doubt that there are bands carrying forth that sort of
provocative vibe today, but I must be honest – I don’t know of them, and I’m not sure if I
would be that interested in them musically. Part of this is probably Old Person Disease, but
there’s also an element of being bored with the lack of innovation in the last ten years of
the hardcore scene. After a while you stop paying attention even though there could be tons
of fantastic stuff flying in under the radar. I’d usually rather listen to discordant classical
music than punk most of the time anyway.

One of your “hits”, if you wanna call them that, was definitely “Teenage Suicide – Do It!”.
How do you feel about that song some 10+ years later?
I don’t regret it at all. I think it’s still kind of funny. I probably wouldn’t write a song
like that today. I’m not the same person I was then. I wrote a lot of songs about suicide
because I myself was ‘suicidal’. Everytime I wrote a song dealing with it, it was sort of
a proxy suicide. I did that so I wouldn’t do the real thing. I was a little messed up.

Did you get a lot of flack for that? I’d imagine most of the punk scene was into it, and I’m
not sure if the conservative parents groups of South Carolina had any idea In/Humanity even existed.
I know of one girl whose parents threw her In/Humanity record away because of that song. We
met her at a show and gave her a replacement when she told us the story. Other than that,
there wasn’t a lot of flack.

You coined the term “emo-violence” as a sarcastic joke, but people actually took to it.
Were you surprised how that took off? Did you find it hilarious, sad, flattering, or something
in between?
I was/am totally surprised by that. I don’t find it sad or flattering. It just is.

The last album, The History Behind The Mystery / Music To Kill Yourself By kind of took a
darker, almost gothic turn, which was pretty unique at the time. Whose idea was it to bring
in violins, and kind of take things in that direction?
Paul and I were both listening to a lot of Eastern European 20th Century classical music at
the time. So we brought in elements that in some cases were ripped off directly from guys
like Gorecki or Penderecki. I wish we had gone further down that rabbit-hole. There are one
or two songs on that album that I think sound like black metal, but we had never heard any
black metal bands at that time.

After you finally heard black metal – what’d you think?
I liked elements of the style, but also found a lot of it musically lazy and tedious.

Was there a true passion for the occult in In/Humanity, or was that all a piss-take? I could
never quite tell.
I’ve had a life-long interest in the occult. It’s legit. But I also take very little seriously.
So there’s a love there, but also a mocking.

Is there any possibility of an In/Humanity reunion tour?
Absolutely not.

There’s nothing quite like the feeling of throwing on a punk record you don’t know
anything about and having it knock you on your can. That’s what Constant Mongrel
did to me with Everything Goes Wrong, the sort of fully-realized debut album that
seems to come most frequently from Australia these days. Constant Mongrel are
musically crude, artistically sharp and proudly punk, forcing themselves to learn
their instruments as they go and slapping anyone who doesn’t get it in the process.
I’m reminded of the quick-witted annoyance The Urinals brought to the table in 1979,
as well as the noisy, modern-day doldrums of Lamps, but Constant Mongrel are clearly
their own little creature. I had to find out more about the group for myself, so I got
in touch, and they kindly answered my questions.

When and how did Constant Mongrel get started? I believe some of you play in
other bands, but I’m not quite sure of the exact family tree…
Hugh (guitar): Well it basically started off as Tom and I mucking around in this laundry-
room / shed out the back of Tom’s old house. He had just started playing drums with
another friend’s solo project called Woollen Kits, which at the time was a sort of
a K Records kind of pop-style punk thing. We wanted to make a more straight-up
proto-punk band, so I learned drums as I went along, which worked well in terms of it
being retarded sloppy fun shit to play. It was all about just making songs up really
quickly before shows and keeping us and others entertained, really. After a while,
we got a bit tired of it I guess and decided add a bass player, Amy, who is a babe
and in the local pop band School of Radiant Living, as well as Andrew Murray from
a Perth band called Taco Leg who we’ve always championed. So yeah, eventually the
ideas changed, but we still like to make songs up on the spot. Really the only
strong relation we have is to Woollen Kits and Taco Leg, but we all play in different
bands now.

So are you are four-piece now? Did you add a second guitarist specifically for
the sound, or was it more of a casual “sure, you can come play with us” sort of thing?
Tom: Yeah, we are a four-piece now. Andrew (Taco Leg’s main man) joined the band just
a few months back. We met him when we travelled to Perth (for those who don’t know,
Perth is a four-hour flight away) about two years ago. We kinda hit it off from day one,
and told him if he ever wanted to play in Constant Mongrel that if he moved to Melbourne
he could. So yeah, he moved across after completing his masters in architecture over
there. Actually he sang on “In the Night” on Everything Goes Wrong, he recorded
the vocals with a friend in Perth and it all worked nicely, pretty cool we could do that.

Do all you bands on like, Bedroom Suck and R.I.P Society and Negative Guest List (and
maybe even Siltbreeze) all know each other? Living in America, I don’t have any understanding
if you’re all going to the same shows all the time, or if most of those labels’ rosters
barely ever interact.
Tom: Yeah, we do know a lot of the bands from R.I.P Society, etc. Not really personally,
but definitely from playing shows, that sort of thing. Australia is very large and
pretty pricey to get around; every city has bands that are related to those labels. I
guess it’s a pity we can’t play and hang with some of them more.
Hugh: For the most part we know each other. Those labels are all in separate states/cities.
Bedroom Suck and Negative Guest List in Brisbane, R.I.P Society in Sydney, also No
Patience in Adelaide are really good. Because there are only a few states in Australia,
all the bands from these labels tour quite a bit so we get to know each other that way.
We’re obviously chummy with the R.I.P guys and love catching up whenever they come down
to Melbourne. We also love playing in Sydney which we do often. Melbourne has the most
density as far as music. There are a ton of good bands, and a lot of people move from
other states to here because of that. I’d say at least two or three decent shows every
week for sure. There is definitely a strong community around the punk/hardcore crowds
and I suppose that has translated well overseas in the last couple of years. It’s always
surprising talking to other people from bands about how well their record is doing in the
United States… we certainly don’t expect it.

Do you find yourself getting a better reaction from the punk/hardcore crowd, or
more from the experimental / artsy types?
Tom: In terms of reaction internationally, or even nationally, we are not really sure…
In Melbourne, things are kinda divided but also connected. We have found people are
playing in bands that vary in style as opposed to staying on their side of the fence.
I do think that maybe we have been labeled as a garage / punky thing because of our
beginnings, so the people that are in that scene seem to have come along with us the
whole time, but we have found people involved with noise / experimental stuff have enjoyed
our record too. We love to play with bands like Mad Nanna but also can be put on a bill
with a grindcore band like Trench Sisters and not feel out of place, which is a great
testament to Melbourne music culture right now.

What inspired the shaving-themed artwork on the album? And why isn’t the guy on the
far right shaving anything (or is he)?
Hugh: Heh! The guy on the right is me, and I think it was just the picture chosen by
my girlfriend at the time who took it. I have a beard most of the time because I
actually hate shaving, so yeah I guess there’s that. The back was an idea of Tom’s as
a band bonding together shot. Like the band that shaves together stays together or
something? But the front was just an idea of mine. I just always admired that particular
basin and it ended up looking quite Duchamp-esque and bleak which is cool.

Do you recall when you first heard X_X? Are you into collecting obscure records, that
sort of thing?
Hugh: I’ve always thought that Electric Eels are the best and most punk band there has ever
been. In obsessing over them I came across some other stuff John Morton did, and found a
copy of that No Nonsense 7″ while I was in America. That track is actually a variation
of an older Electric Eels version, but it’s a much more interesting version. I’m really into
collecting records, yes. I haven’t been lately because of being in a ton of debt, but yes
obscure records are great. There is actually a lot of obscure ’70s and ’80s Australian
post-punk and even weirder shit that turns up occasionally that is always exciting. I like
that a lot of it is getting reissued so people can hear it, like Slugfuckers, etc.

I went crazy the first time I heard the Slugfuckers… couldn’t believe they existed
when and where they did! What’s the last great rarity you managed to pick up?
Hugh: I do own the Slugfuckers’ Transformational Salt LP which is one of my
favorites. They’re an incredible band. Well, the last semi-rare record I bought was an
original VOM Live At Surf City 7″, probably the best most retarded punk 7″ ever. The guitar
sound still blows my mind. Some poor idiot was selling it way cheap on eBay. Although it’s
not that rare I have the original Fad Gadget Ricky’s Hand 7″ which is one of my faves. Has
to be one of the best synth-punk singles of all time. So immediate and catchy! Got some
classic early Discharge 7″s recently too!… Enough wanking now.
Tom: I recently picked up three sealed Porter Wagoner records for under twenty bucks in a
record store in the country. Maybe not that rare in the US, but very very hard to find
in Australia! But you know a record’s a record… as long as you can hear the music, I’m happy.

How did you get hooked up with 80/81 Records out of California?
Hugh: Dunno, I think Matt found out about us after hearing Woollen Kits or another
Melbourne band, Mad Nanna. He just seemed really keen and was willing to risk it I
guess in putting us out which is nice of him. Things got slow in the final stages of
getting it out, but luckily Nick from R.I.P society jumped on board and helped put
the record out. Fucking legend.

Now that you’ve been a band for a little bit, do you feel like your actual playing
skills have increased? Is that something you expect will affect your sound, like having
already done a great first LP that is super primitive… what I’m wondering is, will
your songs get more fancy and complex?
Tom: Well, when we made this record it really all fell together while recording. I think
we had to have some on the spot creation for it to be “us” and to really work. We will
take new songs into recording and just wing it again with a general idea or palate. I
guess our playing style has changed since this record (it was a year ago we made it) with
new songs maybe leaning more toward a darker area, but that’s doesn’t really mean anything
in terms of a next album. More complex? Maybe, who knows. It’s great cause there’s no
pressure on us, I don’t think many people expect anything from Constant Mongrel (not in a
bad way), so it’s a great place to be in terms of creating new stuff.

Are there any future records planned at this time?
Tom: We are writing new stuff at the moment, so hopefully something will happen next
year sometime. Like I said, before we’d go in with enough material for a record and just
wing it with the style and feel of the whole thing. It has to be said we are a very poor
band at organising and pushing what we do, or even playing shows. It works for who we are
as people, but probably has an effect on our output and following. Like I said, there is
no pressure, so we actually really look forward to doing it again!

Where does the name come from? I like it, because it makes me think that there might
be a mongrel out there that is only part-time.
Tom: Well… It’s a bit cringeworthy now. The name is a penis joke. A mongrel is a
half-erection (like half-breed dog). I guess like our beginning as a band, the name was very dumb.