Seven Minutes of Zipperhead
Seven Minutes of Zipperhead
What connects the hardcore punk scenes of Boston and Seoul?
As far back as my memory takes me, I’ve been angry. I would describe it as less of a present feeling and more of an undercurrent, and after years of self-counterconditioning, I’ve mostly learned to mute it in favor of patience. Until I was 20 I believed it’d always be this way; I’d grapple with anger privately for the rest of my life, and put on a nice face for the rest of the world. Then I joined my collegiate rugby team, and through close coaching and grueling gameplay, I learned that sometimes anger (which can emerge as competitiveness or physical aggression) can be the key to overcoming obstacles and not the obstacle itself. There’s a difference between honoring your anger and letting your anger get the best of you. Honoring it requires you to be emotionally honest with yourself, and to tune your emotions rather than mute them.
Listening to hardcore encourages me in the same way to honor my anger. I wouldn’t call myself an avid fan of the genre yet, but it’s been growing on me recently. Listening to people erupt into turbulent shrieks and unpalatable growls while pounding the life out of a drum kit feels like soothing a burn wound. Female-fronted bands like Jinjer (metalcore), Sœur (grunge-noise) and Ego Function Error (experimental punk) make me want to take voice lessons just to learn how to scream. I’ve tried learning to guttural- and fry-scream from YouTube videos to no avail (and to the concern of my boyfriend, who has heard me numerous times squawking alone in our bedroom while gaming with his friends).
In 2013, a Boston-based Korean-speaking hardcore punk band called Zipperhead (Garrett Belair, Kyle Buresh) released their self-titled EP, which would turn out to be their only release. California-based poet and music enthusiast Kevin Kim acquainted me with Zipperhead by sharing a clip of their music to his Instagram story. Lamenting the obscurity of punk gems amongst the oversaturated musical landscape of YouTube, he requested any information from his readers on how one could acquire a cassette of this EP. I never joke about a good deep dive, especially if the opportunity to learn more about less-advertised Korean subcultures presents itself. Thus began the journey of uncovering Zipperhead (and hopefully getting our hands on a cassette).
After listening to this collection for myself, I was hooked. The Zipperhead EP is 7 delicious minutes of guitar scratch and vocal slaughter. I hear the oscillating bass line and I’m immediately in the mosh pit, slammed and yanked back and forth by bodies twice my size. There is no room for misinterpretation; the category is “urban disillusionment”. Give me a gun. Bastard policemen. Filthy, exhausting, I hate this city. You politicians are whores for money.
I’ve never been to Massachusetts, much less do I have an idea of what their hardcore culture is like. But if Zipperhead is any indicator of their state of affairs, there’s no question their scene is solid.
Initial efforts to find a circulating cassette proved unlucky. After a lengthy Internet search, I still couldn't find anybody reselling this tape, although I did see that after Zipperhead’s self-issue, it was subsequently re-issued and distributed by Oppressed Mind Records in 2014, as well as No Name Distro in 2015. Interestingly, Oppressed Mind Records was also responsible for distributing the demo tape of Leather Daddy, a Boston hardcore band fronted by four high school girls in 2014 (initially, I mistyped that as Lather Daddy, which would be a great name for a band that only generates Dove soap jingles). No Name Distro is based in Ukraine; they are active on Instagram and seem to do most of their advertising on Blogspot. I was even able to find the post where they announce the “NEW RELEASE!!!” of this cassette- very limited edition, with only 102 copies selling for $4 a pop.
I knew it was a long shot, but I reached out to No Name Distro via Instagram DMs to inquire about whether any copies were available of the Zipperhead EP. Unfortunately, all copies had been already been sold, though I would have bought one in an instant. Take a look at how the word “Zipperhead” is arranged; this emulates the Korean writing systems, where words are constructed with syllabic “block” units rather than oriented linearly left-to-right. The cassette leaflet displays a sketch of a flaccid penis hanging out of an open fly, surrounded by doodles of sperm with squinched faces, other phallic creatures, and the stamp of the Korean flag. Zipperhead was courteous enough to even include the lyrics to each track on the leaflet. Will you laugh at me if I say this design is genius? If I’m juvenile or vulgar for loving it, then I’ll take that bullet in a heartbeat.
Kyle Buresh grew up in Stoughton, MA. While Zipperhead was alive, he was also running a small DIY venue in Boston with some friends. For 3 years, they hosted shows that featured local, national, and international touring acts. When the venue closed, he joined the psychedelic punk act Banshee as a bassist. Later, he and two friends started performing as a trio at different clubs in the Boston area. Now a duo known as The Glitter Boys, this all-vinyl DJ group that can be found hosting Friday nights at the Sinclair in Cambridge.
Garrett “Tits” Belair has done a lot of producing and sound engineering work for other artists as well since 2007. His repertoire consists mostly of other hardcore acts (like the aforementioned Leather Daddy), but take a closer look and you’ll see his fingers are everywhere– he has mixing and mastering credits on “Stronger than You Think”, a heartfelt melody by drag queen Hurricane Kimchi, as well as mastering credits on a couple tracks for the now “retired” rapper cal vino (stage name of Calvin Belair– Garrett’s brother, I assume). Currently, he lives in Seoul and is the drummer and producer for a Korean hardcore band called Slant.
Let’s focus our attention on Slant. Their debut EP, “Vain Attempt”, was released in 2017. It’s a very sensible progression from a group like Zipperhead for Garrett. Perhaps he was one of the pioneers of incorporating Konglish into hardcore. The other members of Slant also belong to standout hardcore bands Scumraid and Sulsa (meaning “diarrhea” in Korean). Along with Zipperhead, this is an album I wish I had known about earlier, so I could added this to my arsenal of pre-rugby tournament hype music. The connection to Massachusetts endures; “Vain Attempt” was mastered by Will Killingsworth, who has owned and operated Dead Air Studios in Western Massachusetts since November 2000. I was born November 16, 2000.
Slant and The Glitter Boys are about as dissimilar as it gets. One group mixes 70s and 80s Motown hits at breast cancer benefit fundraisers while dressed in custom tailored glitter suits. 14 hours ahead on the other side of the world, the other group bellows into blistering crasher-style punk noise in front of a crazed, thrashing audience. Nonetheless, I feel fortunate that I can put the faces of these former Zipperhead members to their current musical projects, while Zipperhead itself remains a faceless product of its time, save for this lone photo.
