Defiant. Energetic. Chaotic.
Fronted by vocalist Akil Godsey, End It drive direct intent burdened by a sincere purpose with their lyrics. Search End It on YouTube and get a litany of explosive sets (most in the hate5six library) or one of the band’s bad ass videos, “Hatekeeper” or “New Wage Slavery.” The five-piece dropped a Self-Titled EP in 2017 and in 2020 spat out One Way Track. Now the band gift the hardcore scene with Unpleasant Living with the aid of Flatspot Records. Birthed in Baltimore, MD, if someone didn’t tell you prior, the band will let you know that fact within seconds.
Godsey answers the phone already laughing. A vibrancy pulses through the phone. His demeanor and the exuberance belie what he addresses vocally regarding a community’s rage stemming from poverty, racism, neglect, and struggle. And violence is always one wrong step away. End It’s brand of hardcore is lightning fast, broken up by a welcome groove or two-step part or breakdowns. Their presence is kinetic. Stagnation or repetition is not a musical option.
End It are Baltimore through and through, visually and in the personality. Baltimore bands such as Stout, Gut Instinct, Next Step Up, Slumlords, and Trapped Under Ice have left imprints that course through their blood. But sparked by a fresh originality, End It infuse some heavies from NYHC, such as Leeway, Cro-Mags, Maximum Penalty, and District 9. Godsey has a brazen love for those bands.
“That’s my shit. Max Pen. That joint with the speakerbox (Independent, IJT Records) or the two girls on the front (Superlife, Gypsy Records) with “Could You Love Me” and all those songs… When I got exposed to that side of hardcore, that’s what I wanted to hear. That stuff is good. Max Pen don’t get the appreciation. Burn, Absolution don’t get the respect they deserve, in my professional opinion. Supertouch, Fahrenheit 451—all that weirdo NYHC shit. Remember, I’m coming from Baltimore by way of D.C. Nation of Ulysses, that D.C hardcore. I love those dissonant chords. It’s weird, but it’s still hard. I love that shit.”
Godsey reflects on the old division of Baltimore.
“Either you went to The Sidebar, you were a Sidebar kid. That was more punk, crust punk, streetpunk-type shit, Oi! shit. Madball, Stout … Then, you had the Art Space side, which was more Rival Mob, Mindset, Mental.”
I noted, “I would have been like you and gone to both.” His amused retort, “How do you think I got here? I didn’t know I wasn’t supposed to see both. Just like I didn’t know I couldn’t be a punker or a skinhead and be in the choir and play sports.”
The virtue of that quip opened a big window. Godsey can embrace all versions of himself because there is only one: refuting norms and tropes. The choir admission explains his purpose-driven, preacher-inspired affability, combining determination, and a gregarious tone. The sports reference explains the energy and tenacity. Baltimore did not defeat Godsey, it molded him.
Hardcore has exploded to embracing a larger spectrum of races, ethnicities, genders, and sexualities. To people who got through the ‘80s and ‘90s, this is a relief. All the lessons that these white males were preaching are tangibly coming to fruition. Baltimore legends Stout and Gut Instinct had Black guys in the band, and that impact had to be huge. Akil continues this tradition and is cognizant, but also sheds that categorization and dispels assumptions.
“I’m a little bit weird because of the way I was raised. I know I’m Black. I look in the mirror every day. Hmmm… how can I word this without sounding fucking crazy? Of course, race is very important. And that’s cool. But, in terms of this hardcore shit, you either fuck with hardcore or you don’t. Me and a lot of my dudes, at a certain point, you not supposed to come to these shows and be concerned with being Black. I came here to see the bands. We already know how to treat each other.
“You either gonna come for the music, ultimately, (and) dig out your own hole. After a while, people going to learn to respect and conduct themselves properly. If they don’t—after you’ve established yourself—Ya feel me? I’m almost 15 years into this shit. I wish a motherfucker would come around talking ‘nig nogs’ and shit like they used back in the day. Thinking it was funny to sieg heil in the pit and whatnot. And (when I was) new here, I just can’t start shit, but you hang around long enough, you’ll see that shit fade out. Hardcore takes care of itself. Just come be who you are.”
For more from End It, find them on Instagram and Facebook.
Photo courtesy of Kenny Savercool
