Hard life

Lowlife support a benefit and release a CD

By Sherie Dyer

Lowlife et. al. play the Asylum February 3.

LOWLIFE: Rick Levesque, Jay Kenney, Chris Hewko, Dan Paulson, and Shawn Maines.

It was Saturday, March 18, 2000. Vicky Tomasello and a friend were driving through New Hampshire. Their final destination was The Business and Dropkick Murphys show at The Asylum. Suddenly, Vicky’s friend lost control of the wheel, and their SUV flipped four times. During the crash, Vicky’s right arm was dragged 210 feet and wound up pinned underneath the vehicle.

Nine operations later, she still has extremely limited use of her arm. During the accident she severed the radial nerve at her shoulder, and nearly lost the arm entirely. Two of the major surgeries failed to reconnect the core nerve, and seven of the minor ones involved taking nerves out of her feet and toes for implants in her hands. It’s been almost a year, and she has racked up over $70,000 worth of hospital bills because of an accident that not only took away her ability to work for the rest of her life, but also wasn’t her fault or the driver’s — “freak accident” according to the insurance companies.

Insurance companies haven’t been able to begin to compensate for Vicky’s losses; a year out of work, operation after operation, physical therapy three times a week, constant medications. At this point she’s beyond frustration.

“They expect you to take care of everything with the settlement [$60,000] for the rest of your life,” she says. “That’s crazy, I can’t ever work again!”

Beyond the regular recovery to such a trauma, there are also other levels of adjustment or obstacles to overcome. Spending a little under a year on strong pain relievers has almost turned Vicky into an addict.

“No more Oxycontin,” she says. “I told my doctor that today. I’m addicted. It’s fucked up. I don’t want to walk around like a zombie. I don’t want to take pills that destroy my liver so I can’t have any healthy kids. This accident ruined my life.”

Imagine yourself on the phone with a complete stranger who is pouring their heart out about something that happened to them, and you pray never happens to you.

But Vicky’s got good friends. Her fiancée — Boston’s hardcore legend “Buddha,” singer for Blood for Blood — is braking his hiatus to headline a benefit for her. Diecast, Death Threat, Where Fear and Weapons Meet, and our local tough guys Lowlife are joining Blood for Blood. Both Diecast and Lowlife have chosen this date to release their latest CDs. The all-ages hardcore fest is slated for February 3 at The Asylum. The club has agreed to charge a minimal fee for the space, and the security needs to be paid — other than that every last penny goes towards Vicky’s hospital bills. No guest lists.

This is an occasion for Portland’s Lowlife, who recently got signed to Strikeforce Records, a small, Connecticut label that was also Diecast’s first label. The company promises solid distribution throughout the United States of their new four-song EP, The Pity Card, which is being released on both vinyl and CD. It was recorded at The Studio by Steve Drown.

Lowlife is a five piece consisting of lead guitarist Shawn Maines, rhythm guitarist Jay Kenney, bassist Rick Levesque, drummer Dan Paulson, and singer/ screamer/screacher Chris Hewko. For two years they have been playing old-school hardcore with strong metal influences. Paulson is one of the heavier drummers in the area. Although he has the speed of death-metal, he combines it with the accuracy and sharp accents that make hardcore music hardcore.

Maines and Kenney’s distortion pedals turn their guitars into nuclear holocaust alarms. Heavy, rapid chords fall into place repeatedly. Backed by Levesque’s sinister bass tones, the songs are angry and exceptionally morbid. This is clearest on their title track.

Hewko does a number of things with his voice — sometimes even losing it because he pushes so hard. Quick condescending words flow out, followed by angst-inspired screams: the essential and traditional elements of hardcore.

Hardcore scenes offer a strong sense of camaraderie that truly make a benefit feel like one. There’s a solidarity in the crowds. The kids cram themselves up front, yell the lyrics they know and love. They give their friends a brotherly kick in the head or punch in the face, and every boy leaves a man.

“They’re nuts,” says Maines. “The crowd just goes crazy. The same kids are at every show, and they’ll drive anywhere to see us play.”

Now that Lowlife has finished their EP, they’re free to record a lot of the newer material they have been writing. A full length LP is in the future, and many of the songs will be debuted the day of the benefit show. Maines describes them all as “insane” and is looking forward to Saturday night.

“I think it’s a good cause, and it’s going to be a really good time.”

Sherie Dyer can be reached at sheriedyer@netscape.net.com.