Mark Lind and the Unloved
Am I gonna lie and say it didn’t feel as if someone had smacked the black-framed glasses off my very heart when I saw that Ketman came up a little short of votes here? No, I will not. But am I gonna make like I don’t fully understand why folks love them some Mark Lind? No, to, the, way. Just listen to “Open Letter to Boston.” In form, content, and delivery, it’s like the polar opposite of every whiny fair-weather Boston kid who won’t shut up about his forever-pending relocation to Brooklyn. Town pride! Set to nasty-rock! Resistance is futile! I may be a card-carrying sucker for the “fuck everything” stripe of aggressively loud music, but a little bit of Lind reminds me that I still have room in my heart for punk rock with the balls and the focus to pick something (from the military-industrial complex to the mirror) and say “fuck you” — and no one else does it quite like the Unloved.