Unsanitary Napkin – All Billionaires Are Bastards

I’m sure, like me, you often find yourself feeling tired of all the shallow theatrics and hollow statements from some punk rock bands. I’m also sure, like me, some of you find it ridiculous whenever some old grouch whines about all the politics in punk. You know, given the genre was founded on the notion that things need to change and, of course, that the personal is political.

That said, I get the grumpiness. I get feeling jaded. Looking around, I also appreciate the appeal of nihilism over activism. Obviously, no punk band is obligated to make any call to action. And more to the point, we all love a few misanthropic bands that don’t care about anything besides the next hit of whatever’s going to block out the pain of this world.

Nowadays, it’s all too easy to find yourself tied up in complex conversational knots. Political chit-chat is a minefield. And once-reliable paradigms are warped beyond belief. Hell, ‘freedom’ and ‘free speech’ are now rallying cries for alt-right agitators as much as left-leaning anarchists.

It’s easy to feel hopeless, and it’s easy to think advocating for change is utterly pointless. But listen up, my sad little friend. If you’re feeling lost and bewildered, I’ve got good news. Aotearoa New Zealand anarcho punks Unsanitary Napkin are here to remind you why punk rock matters.

Now, you might be thinking there’s a lot of hype crammed into the sentence above. Fair enough, too. I’m an unashamed hustler when it comes to noisy music from Aotearoa. But trust me, kid, Unsanitary Napkin perfectly encapsulate just how exhilarating and intoxicating punk can get when high energy music is fused with highly charged issues.

Unsanitary Napkin rip into injustice and inequality from a feminist perspective, with the trio from Te Whanganui-a-Tara (Wellington) describing their firebrand music as a “furious vomit of frustration”. Unsanitary Napkin cut through all the crap on their latest infectious LP, All Billionaires Are Bastards, which is, in a nutshell, a searing anticapitalist critique of a world awash in socio-economic ills, exploitation, and prejudice.

Since day one, Unsanitary Napkin have tackled the kinds of hot-button issues that punk bands that actually give a shit deal in: reproductive rights, police violence, the protection of marginalised groups, state surveillance, fascism, gender and sexuality issues, industrial farming, and of course, the crushing impacts of late-stage capitalism.

Along the way, Unsanitary Napkin have steadily upped their speed, anger, and sonic prowess, and All Billionaires Are Bastards is undoubtedly the band’s heaviest and most enraged recording yet. (“All billionaires are parasitic fucking life-suckers […] the more wealth these vampiric shitlords accrue, the closer they get to fulfilling their oligarchic fantasies”—you get the point.)

All Billionaires Are Bastards is also Unsanitary Napkin’s most concentrated effort, with a sharper focus that feels even more determined than before. The band’s riffs are more razored, their drums more relentless, and that stampeding bass—which has always been Unsanitary Napkin’s not-so-secret weapon—is a seriously pummelling pleasure.

Parallels to the fast-paced, pogo-friendly groups like G.L.O.S.S., Tørsö, Sial, and Jalang (formerly Lái) are apt. But there’s also a lot of anarchic energy here that calls to mind the heartfelt fury of groups like Flux of Pink Indians, Rudimentary Peni, and Crass (FYI: we’ll be hearing more from Crass later on).

Like those bands mentioned above, Unsanitary Napkin wrap passionate lyrics around equally impassioned music. Combining ardent emotional intensity with musical ferocity isn’t new to Unsanitary Napkin’s members, who’ve also played in groups like long-running Aotearoa d-beat band Rogernomix, rungus noise punks Downer Buzz, and acclaimed experimental rockers The All Seeing Hand. What’s great about Unsanitary Napkin is that they walk the walk, which isn’t something you could say about every other Aotearoa punk band.

That’s not a subtle dig at the Aotearoa punk scene, which features stacks of great bands, along with the usual set of uncomfortable issues that small scenes don’t always like to admit let alone confront. But I digress!

The point I’m making is that Unsanitary Napkin are as loud and proud of their politics as they are of their music (i.e. there’s no separating the two), and All Billionaires Are Bastards is subsequently a staunchly opinionated LP.

All Billionaires Are Bastards was recorded and mixed by Vanya Vitali at Slimebag Studio in Te Whanganui-a-Tara. Vitali’s been a go-to studio whizz for plenty of Aotearoa punk bands over the years, and his recordings share a similarly gritty ‘live’ vibe. That’s definitely the case with All Billionaires Are Bastards, which thrums with energy and has a harder and a rawer edge to its instrumentation than on Unsanitary Napkin’s previous releases.

All Billionaires Are Bastards features twelve full-bore tracks, with the previously released songs “TERF War” and “Speak Up for Women, You Don’t Speak for Me” having (deservedly) featured on a couple of 2021 end-of-year lists right here and here at DIY Conspiracy.

All Billionaires Are Bastards also includes a couple of re-recorded older tracks. “Peter Thiel (Literal Fucking Vampire)” originally appeared on Unsanitary Napkin’s Orgasmic Capitalism 7-inch back in 2018. The track sounds punchier here, having been given a booster shot of anti-supervillain potency. (“Economic parasite, for ever and ever”—I doubt you need a deeper explanation of the guts of that track.)

“Dildo Baggins” was originally included on Unsanitary Napkin’s killer 2019 split cassette with Kirikiriroa (Hamilton) band Contenders. The song unpacks one of the greatest acts of political protest in Aoteroa: the glorious moment in 2016 when (now national hero) Josie Butler lobbed a dildo into the face of a conservative New Zealand politician, while he was speaking to camera in front of a large media contingent. (And thus, a meme for all time entered Aotearoa’s political history books!)

Elsewhere, Unsanitary Napkin tear into a ripping cover of “Love Hungry Punx”, initially released by defunct Te Whanganui-a-Tara punk band The Johos. “Carnage” sees the band take on the evils of mass consumption and abattoirs: “We are monsters, fucking monsters, capitalism means torture, industrial fucking slaughter, capitalism means carnage, cold-blooded murderous carnage”.

Like all of Unsanitary Napkin’s songs, “Carnage” cuts straight to the quick. And that directness is one of the band’s greatest strengths. Unsanitary Napkin dissect complex issues into incisive soundbites, but they don’t dumb it down along the way. Harsh truths are delivered at every turn; see the likes of All Billionaires Are Bastards‘ title track: “You selfish fucks, you arrogant shits, bleed the working class for the monetary hits… exploit your workers till they drop, you deny you run a sweatshop… drill the workers till they die, wring them out until they’re dry”. (And here’s a hearty ‘fuck yea’ as another incendiary punk anthem is born.)

In the past few years, a significant concern for Unsanitary Napkin has been the increased “weaponization of rhetoric” by the alt-right. “Big Freedom” sees the band dive into that terrifying shitstorm with bullseye lyrics like, “your claim that you’re free to speak does not mean you’re free from critique”. It’s a simple observation, but one that free speech martyrs seem to conveniently forget. It’s no surprise to see a track like “ACAB” on All Billionaires are Bastards. And it’s good to see Unsanitary Napkin also underscoring that the “enforcers of the state” in New Zealand also routinely harass non-white communities, safe in the knowledge they’ll “get off scot-free”. The sooner the idea that Aotearoa is some kind of utopia is demolished, the better.

All Billionaires Are Bastards ends with a reinterpretation of Crass’ classic “Do They Owe Us a Living?”. It’s worth pointing out that Unsanitary Napkin share a few similarities with peak-era Crass. There’s certainly a similar urgency to the most fired-up tracks from both bands. And Unsanitary Napkin’s dedication to weaving politics (both global and far more personal) into their songs reflects the primacy of Crass’ ethical stance. Times may be different, but, sadly, many of the same issues remain. Like Crass, Unsanitary Napkin are aware of the importance of shouting from the rooftops until as many people as possible join the chorus for change.

Unsanitary Napkin’s take on “Do They Owe Us a Living?” expresses the band’s disgust with government inaction and ineffectualness. (“Our government has no spine, they stigmatise the unemployed, they cheat and steal and tax-avoid, give lip-service to a kinder world, while treating us like haemorrhoids.”) The band also include a crucial passage highlighting the devastating impact colonialism has had on Aotearoa’s Māori population: “The theft of land through confiscation… economic devastation, so fuck the Crown and their empty hands til they concede to these demands: return the land and pay the rent, it’s stolen land, you’ve made your bed.”

Along with unyielding politics, a vital part of the Unsanitary Napkin puzzle has always been the band’s vivid artwork, created by vocalist and artist Hannah Salmon (aka @dailysecretion). Salmon’s “indecent propaganda” hones in on myriad hetero-patriarchal issues, and like a lot of creative activism, Salmon’s work is provocative in arguing for action.

Writing about Salmon’s 2019 exhibition, The Modern Alpha, Aotearoa poet Hera Lindsay Bird pointed out that Salmon’s work has “an intensity of darkness to it, which draws the eye in like a vacuum”. That’s absolutely true; Salmon’s work is precise, and there’s no mistaking the target or the strength of her criticisms. However, as Lindsay Bird also pointed out, Salmon can “draw a ball-sack better than anyone alive”.

And that’s the thing about Unsanitary Napkin; there’s also a lot of self-aware humour here. That’s crucial when you’re dealing with grim topics—a breath and a smile helps. And Salmon’s artwork is often as funny as it is surreal. The cover of All Billionaires Are Bastards is proof of Salmon’s skillset. But I’d wholeheartedly recommend you check out Salmon’s other work; it’s superb and frequently hilarious.

I realise I’ve written a lot of words praising Unsanitary Napkin, so in the interest of balance, I’ll now dig into my bag of spicy criticisms.

Musically, well, that’s tricky because All Billionaires Are Bastards‘ visceral sound and dramatic pace are right up my alley. But, sure, you might be after something that’s flavoured a little differently. Maybe non-stop hardcore-fuelled anarcho punk isn’t your thing. In which case, no biggie. There’s plenty more noise out there to enjoy, including plenty more rowdy punk bands from Aotearoa.

Lyrically, though. Have I got a red-hot criticism just for you! If you don’t care about fundamental human rights or justice and tolerance, then All Billionaires are Bastards will likely sound like bullshit to you. I mean, Unsanitary Napkin won’t shut the fuck up about, you know, caring about other people. It’s relentless. You could certainly try and tune out all the politics. Or you could get off fucking TikTok and get on board. You might end up loving Unsanitary Napkin for the same reason I do: their uncompromising desire to fight for a better world.

In the past, I’ve written about Unsanitary Napkin being a great band to teach you a thing or two, and it’s much the same on All Billionaires Are Bastards. The album’s energetic tracks emphasise that culture isn’t static and that there’s always a need to continue listening, learning, and (see above) to keep fighting the good fight. In that sense, Unsanitary Napkin are a light in the dark. They urge us, via troublemaking tunes, to challenge our unconscious biases and consider a more compassionate path.

Anarchist and writer Emma Goldman never uttered the line most commonly attributed to her; “If I can’t dance, I don’t want to be in your revolution”. However, she did express plenty of similar sentiments. You get a strong sense that Unsanitary Napkin feel the same. All Billionaires Are Bastards is a fierce critique of capitalism’s failings and the LP spotlights the horrific arc of issues like prejudice, colonialism, transphobia, etc. However, as Unsanitary Napkin point out: “the world feels fucked in so many ways, but hopefully, this album can help us find solidarity in resistance.”

There’s no question the world is on fire. But Unsanitary Napkin’s rabble-rousing eases the burn because they make space for moments of ecstasy as they purge our frustrations. Unsanitary Napkin aren’t interested in lecturing us; they want to bring us together in revelry. While many of the topics they explore are ugly and painful, the band unpack them in a powerfully cathartic way.

We’ve all felt the elation as frenzied punk has addressed our concerns and, in doing so, exorcised our anxieties. There is solidarity in that shared experience, and Unsanitary Napkin tap right into that vein. Sure, All Billionaires Are Bastards is jam-packed with heavyweight issues. But Unsanitary Napkin aren’t here to scold you or bring you down. They’re here to free your freakin’ mind—and you know what comes next, my friend—that’s right, an ass-shaking good time.

Boom: All Billionaires Are Bastards is a fucking riot.