Priors and Acid Baby Jesus: A Punk Psychadelic Baptism

Priors is the band I’d choose if I ever had to, like the characters in my favorite war movies, storm the beaches of Normandy. Priors makes me want to rage. Listening to Priors makes me feel like I could take over a country and brasanly threaten the independence of all of my closest historical allies. That is to say, their songs make me feel invincible—purely, deliriously invincible—especially thanks to the truly, and I don’t use this word lightly, breathtaking performance by their lead singer, Chance Hutchison, gifted with the rare talent of commanding a stage so fully that you cannot help but stare, cheer, and be amazed.

And then there’s Acid Baby Jesus. If Priors is the battle cry before the charge—the explosion mid-impact, the beautiful chaos, the debris—then Acid Baby Jesus is the blunt you smoke with your friends after a long hike along the stunning coasts of Vancouver Island, as you mellow into the ambiance and the incomprehensible beauty of the world around you.

It is a true miracle that the CJLO gods (thanks, Sam) blessed me with the opportunity to visit L'Escogriffe Bar on a random Sunday evening, expecting nothing. I walked in, took my seat next to the exit, and suffered through my cycling-induced asthma attack in peace as I waited for the show to start. Little did I know that my exercise-induced-chronic-health-condition wouldn’t be the only thing taking my breath away that night.

You’re probably asking, “But Ayo, who are these fuckers?”

Well, Dear Reader, sit back and let me educate you a bit. Priors—featuring the cast of characters: Chance on vocals, Max, Seb, and Alan on guitar, and Andrew on drums—are an eclectic bunch. These suburban dads have “it”—whatever “it” is. Releasing their first self-titled album, Priors, in 2017. Since then, they’ve dropped three more albums, most recently Daffodil. Thematically, their vocals, their vibe, their entire manière d'être (puts on professor glasses & tweed jacket) harken back to the protopunk and garage rock revival movement in the northeastern U.S. (boo).

Meanwhile, Acid Baby Jesus, a Greek band, first released LP, then Selected Recordings, and then, in my opinion, their masterpiece: Lilac Days. Their sound builds on modal vamps over hypnotic grooves—delay, reverb, chorus, distortion, and feedback—all rooted in the psychedelic rock movement, which originates from the San Francisco Bay and was made famous by Woodstock in 1969.

But I’ll shut up now. If you really care, you should take MUSI 201.

Now that you know the what, I need to answer the why. “Why should you, the reader—yes, you,—give a shit?”

Priors = Energy. That’s all I could scribble in my little notebook while I witnessed their performance. If you ask me to describe their lyrics, I can’t. If you ask me to analyze the drummer’s pacing or the guitarist’s use of power chord riffs, I won’t be able to. What I can say—more than for any other band I’ve seen—is that Priors is energy, and energy is Priors. Energy that shivers down your spine, that knows when to pause, when to strike, building and diminishing in ways you didn’t even know you needed until you are experiencing it for yourself.

Yet Acid Baby Jesus, in one word, is transendence. To me, they are long drives. They don’t make you dance; they don’t make you move. But A.B.J., armed with their truly adorable Greek-tinged French accents, is the soundtrack to hikes, to memories that exist only in stories told over beers by a campfire.

Interested? Hell yeah.

For the punk vibe, I’d start with “Taste for Blood” off Daffodil by Priors. For that psychedelic trip, go with “Down the Ley Lines” off Lilac Days by Acid Baby Jesus. Then just let that $114.87 billion Spotify algorithm take you from there.

Αντίο,
Ayo :)