Monday, Oct 6 Rickshaw Stop + Black Dahlia co-present UPCHUCK support tba 7 pm doors $15 adv / $18 doors all ages In the messiness of daily life, one rule rings true above all else: artistry always beats mastery. No amount of fine technique or studied precision can match the release of real feeling, the genuine thrill of human bodies and spirits finding each other in the heat of the night. On Bite the Hand That Feeds (Famous Class), Atlanta’s Upchuck offer such real feeling in droves. Channeling the speed of youth and the heaviness of a fleshy, lived life in equal proportion, Upchuck’s second LP is a Trojan Horse par excellence, craftily smuggling in waves of sentimental emotion and clever pop songwriting under a veil of pulsing rhythms and scorching riffs. They are loyal to no genre or stylistic strictures—Bite the Hand That Feeds shifts effortlessly between fuzzed out, Sabbath-worthy dirges and ripping, Spits-worship punk, hardcore-freak-psychedelia and bright garage pop. Where other bands might falter under the weight of stylistic overload, Upchuck carve forward across the cement with a sense of charmed ease. What binds Upchuck together is a purity of intention, an organic loyalty to a thick knot of uncalculated friendships, struggles, and desires. These are songs about the joy of continuing to live, songs that find each other in the rush of a crushing reality, propelling the listener onward towards a collective release, however brief it may last. Themes of surviving through the night, youth-blinded love, cheap champagne soaked back-alley parties, and chaotic street protests are subsumed under a single unifying thread: the needs we have for one another, our shared hunger for connection. In a world saturated with arbitrary rules and paper-thin moralism, Upchuck offer freedom through sensation, a type of unserious transcendence found through the swirl of bodies melting into one another in the passion of dance. With Bite the Hand That Feeds, Upchuck isn’t trying to tell anyone how to live. Rather, they are simply trying to find a way to make life more worth living for both themselves and their friends—if the music compels you to move, you might as well consider yourself their friend too.