Chaos in Tejas Live (Night No. 2): The Men

The Men aren’t a novelty. The Brooklyn quintet remains fast, loud, aggressive, and unpretentious, with a new LP every year since 2010. Workmanlike. If there’s anyone still fetishizing their good ol’ days, better jump aboard the New Moon.

The band’s appeal notwithstanding, Red 7 felt empty last night. Maybe the chortling noise and sticky fog of the proceeding Destruction Unit scared off a bunch of the lifers, or maybe the Men remain perennially underrated. A few champions stood pat. Chronicle scribe Chase Hoffberger: “This show’s my hitline.” Nevertheless, those songs bounced off more wood than warm bodies.

A small crowd in a sweaty bar at a festival several states southwest of home has spawned some profoundly indifferent sets from many other bands. Friday, the Men stood in a phalanx of six-strings, reared back, and did their job, dishing the torrential, thickly-strummed acoustic guitarsenal of New Moon alongside apocalyptic favorites from last year’s Open Your Heart.

It’s a cliché to say a lack of pageantry makes music feel truer, but it’s hard to remain unaffected by how purely the Men embrace rock & roll’s aesthetics. Songs built from asphalt and broken-glass, a constant stream of Valhalla hooks: it’s no wonder they tour so confidently. The Men haven’t had to hide a single thing throughout their burgeoning career.