Negative Fx-modern Problems Apr 2026

They were the "Boston Crew" incarnate—fast, straight-edged, and aggressively unmelodic. Jack "Choke" Kelly paced the front like a caged animal, his eyes daring anyone to breathe the wrong way. Behind him, was already hammering the kit, using Burma’s borrowed equipment because why bother bringing your own when you're just going to destroy it?

Dave Bass didn’t miss a beat. He stood up, grabbed a heavy cymbal stand, and went over the barricade like a heat-seeking missile toward the sound booth. The "modern problems" of gear safety and hotel regulations didn't matter—only the noise did.

Two songs in, the ballroom was a sea of flailing limbs. Kids were flying off the stage, boots narrowly missing the expensive microphones the sound man had meticulously leveled for the headliners. Negative FX-Modern Problems

Suddenly, the lights cut. The sound man, panicked about the gear and the chaos, had pulled the plug.

For a second, the room was silent. Then, Choke’s voice cut through the dark, unamplified and raw. "Fuck you, we're not stopping!". Dave Bass didn’t miss a beat

The song hit like a high-speed car wreck. It wasn’t even a minute long—hardly any of theirs were—but it was a 59-second blast of pure, concentrated frustration. The lyrics were a blur of shouting, a middle finger to a world that felt like it was closing in on them.

Negative FX would only play five shows in their entire history. They were a flash of white-hot anger that burned out almost as soon as it started, leaving behind nothing but a single self-titled album and the legend of the night they tried to fight a soundboard. Dave 'Bass' Brown from Negative FX | Echoes And Dust Two songs in, the ballroom was a sea of flailing limbs

Choke leaned into the mic, his voice a gravel-pit growl. "This one's called !"