According to Wikipedia, the boys of Toothgrinder hail from Asbury Park, NJ. But I know a few of them from high school. Though Asbury might be their hub, it’s not their home. And that’s okay -- it’s a transition that taught me the value of growth as an artist.
See, I played hockey with Justin, the vocalist. Wills, the drummer, filled in for my lame high school band a few times.
Back then Asbury Park wasn’t what it is now. It was in recovery. It was growing. Just like us as artists.
I remember their first project: Living a Lie. They were a post-hardcore group back then, but since have evolved into something much more mature. I’ve seen them labelled as heavy metal, as prog-core, as hard rock. But none of that really matters. Their music has become the voice of something larger than where they’re from.
The universe is serendipitous. Toothgrinder released an album the same day I found an old flash drive with 100-some-odd gigs of music. When I popped that into my stereo, Living a Lie was the first song that came on shuffle.
Now, I’m spinning their last two bangers on repeat; Phantom Armour and I Am.
Every song reminds me of our younger days, when we made music just to make noise. But now, as I listen to them shred their hearts out, I find myself reminiscent of the evolution that brought them to where they are. It inspires me and motivates me and somehow reminds me that that’s the whole point to all art to ever exist. An expression of growth.
It doesn’t matter where your from or how you start. All that matters is that you keep going. Toothgrinder taught me that, and for it, I am grateful.
Keep killin’ it, boys!
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