Demo Tape by Raw Meat: A Punk Rock Punch to the Gut
Let me just say this—Demo Tape by Raw Meat isn’t your polished, radio-friendly rock album. Nope. This is raw (pun intended), gritty, and unapologetically punk as hell. Released back in 2012 under their own label—because who needs a big-shot record company when you’ve got something real?—this demo hits like a kick to the chest from someone wearing steel-toed boots. It’s messy, it’s loud, and honestly? That’s exactly why I love it.
The lineup here feels tight but loose at the same time, if that makes sense. You’ve got Garrett McGrath screaming his lungs out on vocals, Evan Radigan shredding guitar riffs like he’s trying to start a fire with them, Denis Cardineau holding down basslines so grimy they feel illegal, and Chris Bowman smashing drums like he’s mad at ‘em. Together, these guys make music that doesn’t just sound like punk—it feels like punk.
Now, let’s talk tracks. There are five songs here, each one short enough to keep your attention span intact but packed with enough energy to leave you breathless. Two stuck with me more than the rest: “Odor of Death” and “Funeral Blues.”
“Odor of Death” kicks things off with this gnarly riff that grabs you by the collar and shakes you awake. Like, holy crap, dude—I wasn’t ready for how pissed-off cool this song would be. The lyrics hit hard too; there’s no sugarcoating anything here. It’s dark, kinda gross in a poetic way, and totally unforgettable. Every time I hear it, I picture some dingy basement show where everyone’s sweating and screaming along like it’s therapy. And maybe it is.
Then there’s “Funeral Blues,” which flips the vibe a bit. It starts slower, almost somber, before exploding into this chaotic mix of rage and despair. Garrett’s voice cracks in all the right places, like he’s barely holding it together—and honestly, that’s what makes it hit so damn close to home. By the end, my heart’s racing, and I’m not even sure why. Maybe because it reminds me of those nights where everything feels broken but beautiful at the same time. You know the ones.
This album ain’t perfect. Some might call it rough around the edges, but that’s kinda the point, right? Punk’s never been about perfection—it’s about honesty, about letting it all hang out, warts and all. Listening to Demo Tape, you can tell these dudes weren’t aiming for fame or fortune. They were just making noise that mattered to them. And honestly? That matters to me too.
Here’s the weird part though—listening to this album now, years later, it feels kinda timeless. Like, yeah, it came out in 2012, but it could’ve dropped last week and still felt urgent. Or maybe I’m just getting old and nostalgic. Either way, Demo Tape sticks with you, like a scar you don’t mind showing off.
So, should you check it out? Hell yes. Just don’t expect anything fancy. What you get instead is four guys pouring their guts into nine minutes of pure, untamed rock 'n' roll. Oh, and one last thing—if you ever meet these guys, buy ‘em a beer. They earned it.
