Two weekends ago I got the chance to see a show by three of today’s most eye-catching and intriguing bands at Baltimore’s Metro Gallery. In complete contrast, this past weekend, I got the chance to see a group entirely associated with the nineties at the same exact venue.

The former experience was eye opening and, holy crap, oozing fun from all its pores. It ultimately made me feel some solace for our world to see that there’s still people out there bringing fresh creative perspectives to the table. The latter was similarly affirming. Post-hardcore group Jawbox reunited in 2019 after twentysome years of dormancy, but the pandemic put their live schedule on hold. Now, they’re back, and they proved last weekend that they’re just as strong as ever.

Tickets to Jawbox. Sold out show. Let’s go.

I’m lucky I got to go at all, really. I had waken up that morning to discover that my house had been terrorized by about four inches of snow in the middle of March. Somehow, despite the weather’s continued divebombing of my town as the day went on, the roads were cleared up enough by the afternoon to facilitate the drive down to the Metro.

The night opened with an acoustic set by Ken Chambers of indie rock group Moving Targets, who were supposed to perform but had to compromise after a COVID case among their ranks. His set was solid and a welcome escape from the frigid cold outside, and overall it laid a nice primer for the heavier music that followed.

What followed next left me slightly speechless out of pure excitement that I was seeing the mighty Jawbox once and for all. In retrospect, I guess there isn’t too much for me to say about the torrent the Jawbs unleashed on their audience—their blistering performance spoke for itself. Every member of the band was in their full element. To my far right, vocalist and guitarist J. Robbins could have stepped out of a bootlegged video of one of their 90s peak performances with the raw intensity of his presence. Kim Coletta supplied the low end with a monstrous bass tone that rumbled the building as she romped across center stage. Behind her, drummer Zach Barocas’ metronomic skills were tight and powerful, providing the perfect backbone to their herky-jerky post-hardcore compositions. And the group’s most recent addition, rhythm guitarist Brooks Harlan, fit right in amongst the high energies of the rest of the gang.

Their collective sonic attack was very satisfying, to say the least. And had the show attracted a younger crowd—the room was mostly populated of people who I assumed listened to the band in their nineties youths—I’d bet the entire house would’ve been as rowdy as it got the previous week! It was clear they were good to be back.

I’m grateful I got that chance to see such powerful music in such an intimate setting. It goes to show how a group who last gave it their all twentysome years ago can still pack the same punch today. The sounds that they unleashed onto the world back then remain shocking, exciting, and fulfilling. Their relevancy never faded. It’s a shame the world still hasn’t caught up with them and so many others.

It’s a disappointing and grueling reality that groups as sharp as Jawbox’s gnashers constantly get overlooked in favor of much duller selections. But spreading the word and continuing to solder on as they do only helps their cause. Luckily, it looks like they’re keeping up just fine in that regard.

And, besides, it’s a nice escape from everyday banality to let yourself go crazy to “FF-66” from the front and center spot.