Permanent Midnight
Incarceration and loss inform depressive Philly metalgazers Nothing
written by: Jeanne fury
"We love heavy shit, we love punk shit, but we’re also saps,” says Nothing singer Domenic “Nicky” Palermo. “I love that fuckin’ music that makes you want to hang yourself.” He’s referring to shoegaze, with its walls of dark, swarming distortion and ethereal vocals—something the Philadelphia band plentifully delivers on Relapse debut Guilty of Everything.
The album is both physically and emotionally saturated, a result of Palermo’s life for the past decade, which involved two years in prison for aggravated assault, not to mention the death of his friend Josh Tshirlig, with whom Palermo cofounded Philly hardcore band Horrow Show in the early 2000s.
“After that happened, I pretty much never wanted to [be in a hardcore band] again,” he says. “There was nothing left in it… it was an empty outlet.”
During Palermo’s long hiatus from music, he says he “really wasn’t doing shit but getting, like, fucked up.” But a few years down the line, the lack of a creative outlet was breaking him. “Just, like, not putting anything in any direction at all, just kinda laying stagnant for so long—I wanted to blow my brains out.”
Though returning to the hardcore scene was out of the question, that didn’t mean music was a lost cause. For as long as Palermo can remember, he wanted to be in a band like Slowdive or Cocteau Twins. “I just had absolutely no way to do it because I was terrible at everything,” he says.
Palermo figured he waited long enough, and released a demo under the name Nothing in 2011. A revolving door of band members led to guitarist Brandon Setta. They released the 12-inch EP Suns and Lovers, followed by 2012’s EP Downward Years to Come. Recently, Setta and Palermo have put themselves through the wringer fine-tuning Nothing’s sound for their full-length.
“Trying to get songs to come out right was pretty awful,” says Setta. “I think we went crazy writing the record and crazier recording it.”
Tracks like “Dig” and “Endlessly” ebb and flow with melody and heft; “Bent Nail” and “Get Well” recall the Pixies’ punch-drunk blowouts. On the mic, Palermo does his best Kevin Shields, voice dreamily floating in its upper range, but it does little to dispel the depressive heaviness that clings to every note.
“I never really touched upon... any of the prison stuff in any musical stuff that I’ve ever done before,” he says. “I figured since this is the first LP I’ve ever done with the kind of music that I’ve beentrying to do forever, I could address it finally.”
So, is Palermo glad to be back making music, after so much time away? “For sure,” he says. “It’s aggravating still, but everything is.”
The album is both physically and emotionally saturated, a result of Palermo’s life for the past decade, which involved two years in prison for aggravated assault, not to mention the death of his friend Josh Tshirlig, with whom Palermo cofounded Philly hardcore band Horrow Show in the early 2000s.
“After that happened, I pretty much never wanted to [be in a hardcore band] again,” he says. “There was nothing left in it… it was an empty outlet.”
During Palermo’s long hiatus from music, he says he “really wasn’t doing shit but getting, like, fucked up.” But a few years down the line, the lack of a creative outlet was breaking him. “Just, like, not putting anything in any direction at all, just kinda laying stagnant for so long—I wanted to blow my brains out.”
Though returning to the hardcore scene was out of the question, that didn’t mean music was a lost cause. For as long as Palermo can remember, he wanted to be in a band like Slowdive or Cocteau Twins. “I just had absolutely no way to do it because I was terrible at everything,” he says.
Palermo figured he waited long enough, and released a demo under the name Nothing in 2011. A revolving door of band members led to guitarist Brandon Setta. They released the 12-inch EP Suns and Lovers, followed by 2012’s EP Downward Years to Come. Recently, Setta and Palermo have put themselves through the wringer fine-tuning Nothing’s sound for their full-length.
“Trying to get songs to come out right was pretty awful,” says Setta. “I think we went crazy writing the record and crazier recording it.”
Tracks like “Dig” and “Endlessly” ebb and flow with melody and heft; “Bent Nail” and “Get Well” recall the Pixies’ punch-drunk blowouts. On the mic, Palermo does his best Kevin Shields, voice dreamily floating in its upper range, but it does little to dispel the depressive heaviness that clings to every note.
“I never really touched upon... any of the prison stuff in any musical stuff that I’ve ever done before,” he says. “I figured since this is the first LP I’ve ever done with the kind of music that I’ve beentrying to do forever, I could address it finally.”
So, is Palermo glad to be back making music, after so much time away? “For sure,” he says. “It’s aggravating still, but everything is.”