{"id":46085,"date":"2021-01-28T14:06:00","date_gmt":"2021-01-28T22:06:00","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/www.hollandreno.org\/?p=46085"},"modified":"2021-07-27T14:51:38","modified_gmt":"2021-07-27T21:51:38","slug":"local-music-pick-codexred","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/hollandreno.org\/2021\/01\/local-music-pick-codexred\/","title":{"rendered":"Local Music Pick: CodeXRed"},"content":{"rendered":"\n

In a new series, we\u2019ll be hearing from a different person every month, reflecting on Reno music projects, current or not so current, and what makes them special and personally important to them.<\/strong><\/p>\n\n\n\n

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Drew Willis<\/strong> on CodeXRed<\/strong><\/figcaption><\/figure>\n\n\n\n

Drew Willis<\/strong> on CodeXRed<\/strong>

“The members of CodexRed\u2019s various lineups are now playing in notable, probably better projects (Fearing, Regional Justice Center, and Fall Silent, among others), and I\u2019ll bet more than one of these members will roll their eyes if they see this post. But the no-bullshit reality is that CodexRed was, for myself and a number of similarly pizza-faced teenagers, a big deal. Going to the CxR show was a salve for adolescent ills including but not limited to: the fists of former friends suddenly flying at your nose bridge, voluntarily or otherwise absent parents, the rollercoaster, in-the-gut drop of self hate and inadequacy that seems to grow in grey desert winters–all punctuated by ever-longer shifts at work. Going to a show was a sort of compressed, high potency vacation from all that. It was part social capital, part activism; part self-expression, part desperate attempt at belonging. To go to \u201cthe show\u201d was to shoot for something like transcendence in twenty minute sets between Fort Ryland\u2019s concrete walls.<\/em><\/p>\n\n\n\n

This was 2010-2015-ish. The building now known as Sizzle Pie–a short walk from Ryland–was a corner store that kids frequented between sets and (also) sold those cheap, somehow plastic looking knife\/brassknuckle combo things under scratched glass countertops. At that time, CodexRed was able to draw enough people for all-local Ryland shows with elbow-to-elbow turnout. They covered No Warning. Alex (vocals) inadvertently fell off the Knitting Factory\u2019s stage, and his sudden fall to the sticky floor was preserved in a cellphone video that I\u2019m pretty sure is still up on Youtube. They played bouncy, Madball-ish riffs to rows of banging heads. They inspired shy high school kids to the forefront of piled, B.O. reeking bodies, bodies united by the band\u2019s chorus (\u201cI am not like you. We are not the same\u201d). They Tumblred about straight edge sex positvity. They spoke, between songs and over heavy, halftime riffs, about the sociopolitical (\u201cFuck racism, fuck sexism, fuck homophobia\u201d) and the community-oriented (\u201cI like burritos. We are going to Mitchconner\u2019s after the show. Come to Mitchconner\u2019s after the show and get burritos with us\u201d).<\/em><\/p>\n\n\n\n

That band and time period will always be, for me, wrapped up in unearned nostalgia–a rosy-tinted, oh-the-good-old-days distortion of reality. But I think CodexRed and those musty, concrete-insulated hardcore shows represent a particular moment in Reno and Reno music, a moment that reflects what we like to believe this town–as well as its DIY\/basement music–can be and do.<\/em>“

You can listen to CodeXRed HERE<\/a><\/p>\n\n\n\n