Sterile Jets

Sterile Jets make music that doesn’t conform to a single style or genre, with lyrics that mirror the struggles the band, and their fans, confront on a daily basis. The band – singer/guitarist Robert Bly Moore, singer/bass player Wm. Partnoff and drummer GS Bean – is a true democracy. They compose and arrange every song to bring out its best elements, delving deeply into punk, post rock and metal, with stimulating side trips into grunge and even pop. The result is a winning combination of noise and melody, romanticism and irony, love and anger that captures the complexities of everyday American life. Those looking for music steeped in the courage, honesty and energy of punk’s primal explosion will find it in the uncompromising sounds of the Sterile Jets.

No Gods No Loss was co-produced by Sterile Jets and audio engineer Bil Lane, a close friend of the band. “We wanted the raw sound of a live show,” Moore continues. “Except for the vocals, the album was recorded over a long weekend, with everything stripped down to the basics. We spent more time writing, arranging and refining the songs this time. Bil has a ton of expertise and a laid back attitude. He gave us the freedom to make the music sound how we wanted it to sound.”

“Fireside Drive,” the album’s first single, contrasts the band’s quieter, more melodic side with their love of distortion. Melodic bass and guitar introduce Moore’s playful, seductive vocal before flipping the switch into an interlude of grinding distortion. By alternating between quiet passages and jolts of noise, the band amplifies the passionate yearning of the lyric. The song builds to a beautifully chaotic climax, complete with a few random quotes from Voltaire about the exploitation of the working class.

“Rehabilitated Truth” opens and closes with screeching feedback from Moore’s guitar. Bean’s galloping drums play variations on a fractured samba rhythm that pushes the guitar and bass in all kinds of twitchy directions. Moore’s growling half spoken vocal plunges into a maelstrom of hopelessness that reflects the agony of a dying relationship.

“Olive Spoil” is a sonic assault drenched in grimy guitar overtones, free form bass lines and out of control drumming. Partnoff's gritty vocals, along with the song's random tempo changes, unexpected bursts of silence and rapid shifts between noise and melody suggests some unholy combination of Hendrix and Motörhead.

Partnoff’s rolling, bluesy bass and Bean’s rock steady drumming support Moore’s mixed down vocals on “Free Pork Bougie” before the tone shifts with a slow, roaring avalanche of earsplitting distortion. The mood swings of the music hint at the tension between the 1% and the country’s working class. “We’re dealing with job loss, expensive or non-existent education and not knowing how we’re going to pay rent,” Moore says. “The rich and powerful are just playing a game.” The song ends either imploring us to, or possibly calling out, "Trump ignorance!"

Beat writer Charles Bukowski inspired “Go Out and Bleed,” a slow, straight-forward, metallic rocker with grim, surrealistic lyrics and an impressive display of Moore’s guitar pyrotechnics. Partnoff’s noisy bass opens “White Satan” as Moore’s guitar provides a shower of quiet, playful arpeggios before moving into sinister, doom rock territory. With the help of Partnoff’s descending bass, Bean’s ponderous backbeat, Moore’s massive power chords and Partnoff’s harsh, snarling vocal, the song shatters the tenets of the conservative agenda.

“Our inspiration comes from what’s going on around us,” Moore says. “This record was written during a point of collective turmoil. We were grappling with chaos, the death of close friends and toxic relationships. That uncertainty comes out on the record. The songs have more anger and darkness this time around, but we don’t write with preconceived notions of what it’s going to sound like. Genres are for people who need to figure out what box you fit in. That's not our concern.”

Wm. Partnoff was born in the LA suburb of Whittier. He was inspired to pick up the bass by Iron Maiden’s Steve Harris. After spending years playing in bands in the San Francisco Bay Area, he moved to Long Beach in 2008. GS Bean started drumming to combat his extreme ADHD, but didn’t get serious about music until he was 19. His love for politically and socially progressive bands like England’s Subhumans profoundly influenced his life and taste in music. After finding Partnoff through Craig’s List, the duo searched for a guitar player and found Robert Moore, who’d just moved out from Indianapolis. His desire to blur boundaries and play whatever he felt, as loud as he could, clicked with the newly formed band’s vociferous, anything goes outlook.

“If you listen to our last record, and compare it to No Gods, you can hear our evolution,” Moore says. “We’ve found our voice and gelled into a tight band. We’re always working to stretch ourselves, and do something different and No God sees us exploring new time signatures, new rhythms, new lyrical ideas. We’re constantly challenging ourselves to be better.”