If there was any doubt that raw, snarling rock n’ roll is alive and breathing fire in 2025, Teen Mortgage and Spoon Benders came to Zebulon the other night and left no survivors.
Zebulon was packed to the absolute brim — a heaving, sweaty mass of bodies smashed together like a human ocean. People were bouncing off the walls (literally). It was the first of two sold-out nights, and the energy felt less like a “show” and more like a full-scale uprising.
Spoon Benders kicked things off, and damn, if they didn’t blow the doors clean off. Hailing from Portland, Oregon, Spoon Benders have been steadily building a name for themselves since forming in 2019. With roots in the Pacific Northwest’s rich DIY scene, they’ve gained a reputation for their blistering live shows and experimental approach to psych-rock. Their sound pulls from a range of influences — a little Dead Meadow haze, a bit of Ty Segall grit, and a touch of doom-laden groove reminiscent of early Black Sabbath.
Songs like “Dichotomatic” rattled the bones of everyone crammed inside. Every note felt jagged and alive, like a sonic landslide tumbling over the crowd. If you weren’t moshing, you were probably trying not to get flattened. The whole set felt like being yanked into a swirling, sweaty, beautiful nightmare — a full-spectrum sensory overload that left no one untouched.
When Teen Mortgage hit the stage, the place somehow got even more chaotic. James Guile and Ed Barakauskas—just two dudes—whipped the entire room into a primal frenzy that bands twice their size can only dream of. It’s almost hard to believe that such an explosive, gigantic sound can come from a duo, but that’s part of Teen Mortgage’s magic. Tracks off their blistering new album Devil Ultrasonic Dream ripped through the crowd like sonic grenades. “Ride” blasted out with the subtlety of a brick through a window, “Oligarchy” sparked instant shout-alongs that shook the rafters, and “Personal Hell” shifted gears with a sludgy, almost grunge-like stomp that had the whole room swaying.
Released just a couple of weeks ago on Roadrunner Records, Devil Ultrasonic Dream marks a huge step forward for Teen Mortgage. Their earlier EPs like Life/Death and Smoked hinted at greatness, but this album delivers the full package — a snarling, surf-tinged, garage-punk manifesto dripping with anger, humor, and a “burn it all down” spirit. The production is tighter, the songs are sharper, and the sheer venom in James’ voice has never sounded more righteous. Listening to the album feels like being dragged behind a speeding car down a graffiti-scarred alleyway — it’s thrilling, dangerous, and weirdly beautiful.
Their sound, stage setup, and overall vibe—the pink drum kit, the thrasher videos projecting behind them—felt like the living, breathing personification of Tony Hawk’s American Wasteland. It was pure skater-punk fantasy brought to life, chaotic and larger than life in the best possible way. One minute you were dodging stage divers, the next you were hypnotized by Ed’s relentless drumming, the next you were chanting along with a hundred sweaty strangers.
The crowd wasn’t just feeding off it—they were part of it. It got so packed, so intense, that at one point, I was physically forced up onto the stage just to keep shooting the show. Shoved up against the side monitors, I had a side-stage view of pure, unfiltered mayhem: kids losing their minds, James slamming his guitar into the air, Ed hammering the drums like he was trying to summon the apocalypse. From that angle, you could see it in their faces — Teen Mortgage weren’t just playing songs, they were exorcising something bigger than both of them.
The chemistry between James and Ed is unreal. They’re locked in at a psychic level, feeding off each other’s energy and hurling it back at the crowd tenfold. James’ guitar tone is pure filth — thick, crunchy, and buzzing like a swarm of angry bees — while Ed’s drumming is tight, fast, and almost mechanical in its precision. Together, they create a sound that’s so much bigger than the sum of its parts.
Nobody wanted it to end. Strangers were high-fiving, collapsing into each other’s arms, howling for one more song. It was one of those rare nights where you could feel the walls sweating with you, the kind of night that’ll echo in your bones for weeks.
Night one at Zebulon was a beautiful mess, the kind of night you don’t just “attend” but survive. And if you were lucky enough to cram your way in, you’re probably still buzzing.
Final Verdict: Teen Mortgage and Spoon Benders didn’t just throw a show — they lit a match and burned the whole place down. Two bands at the peak of their powers, two visions of raw, visceral rock that prove punk isn’t dead — it’s just getting nastier, louder, and more alive.
Words and Photos: Taylor Wong
