by David Wilikofsky
Self Defense Family have often felt unapproachable to me. At this point the group has been operating in one form or another for nearly two decades, but it’s a project that’s incredibly hard to pin down. Though the band is largely fronted by lead singer Patrick Kindlon, its Wikipedia page lists nearly thirty current and former members who rotate through based on availability. Add to this a prolific streak (the band has produced six albums and dozens of EPs, singles and splits) and it can feel impossible to find the right place to jump into their discography. Law of Karma, their latest album, proved to be that entry point for me. A live album recorded over three nights in 2019, its a primer on what makes this band special.
Perhaps ironically, I want to start not with music but with stage banter. There’s over ten minutes of it peppered over the album’s hour long runtime, which sounds excessive on paper but in practice feels just right. Over a few extended monologues, Kindlon gives you insight into the band’s raison d’être. At one point he likens the band to an extended conversation at a bus stop, one that starts casual but quickly veers into dark, personal territory. At another he talks about how he doesn’t like to talk about the meaning behind his songs, how they’re sometimes subconsciously about friends or family but he won’t realize it until much later. Elsewhere he injects humor, whether discussing how Jeffrey Epstein being murdered is the only thing everyone in America can agree on or waxing philosophical on some Self Defense Family slander in the men’s bathroom. It’s a nearly pitch perfect encapsulation of the vibe of the band: sometimes funny, sometimes sad, sometimes serious. As Kindlon calls it, “mixed”.
That adjective also perfectly describes the music, as befits a band that’s been firing on all cylinders for nearly two decades. Musically they’re clearly influenced by the sludgier side of heavy music, both in their angular riffs and Kindlon’s often guttural vocals. But for me, their lyrics are where they show their breadth. Some songs, like “Watcher At The Well”, seem to play out like internal monologues, with Kindlon reflecting on experiences that profoundly changed his perspective on life. Others are character studies; “Turn The Fan On” explores the infidelity of a slightly balding man with a patchy beard, while opener “I’m Going Through Some Shit” is a surreal, twisted bildungsroman. Still others like “Have You Considered Anything Else” grapple with their influences and the very process of making music, how their music can be impenetrable for those who don’t speak the same artistic language. It’s exactly what Kindlon described: “mixed”, music that doesn’t shy away from the messy realities of life.
The album ends with a few parting words from Kindlon: “I’ve charted my development as a human being through our records and many of you have been a part of that. So again, not to be maudlin, just to be sentimental in a way that perhaps is appropriate for a man in his late thirties, I appreciate you very much.” After the hour long tour of their discography, his sentiment felt absolutely earned; even with the small selection of songs included here, Kindlon’s life experience and empathy shine through each moment. Law of Karma feels like a diving off point for me, one that has opened up the world of Self Defense Family. Spend a few hours with this album, I have no doubt you’ll feel the same.