SUPERCURSE, Fishnet, Ropebreaks
Kung Fu Necktie
1248 N Front St.
Philadelphia
February 28, 2026
The weather finally got good again, and on a Saturday no less, so Fishtown was teeming, seemingly every bar and restaurant and venue packed; I overheard a couple I passed on the street say, “This place feels like Nashville,” and honestly, facts. I often can’t help but think of the time someone described the intersection of Frankford and Girard on a weekend as a sort of “Bromuda Triangle." Whoever coined that was on one. A weird zone, for sure.
But I digress. February’s done, and we got a tantalizing taste of what spring will feel like, and that’s all right with me, with caveats. (I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again: personally, I loved winter this year. It actually felt like something substantial.) I have yet to cover a show at Kung Fu Necktie before now; their calendar only occasionally aligns with my tastes – I cringe at the thought of Emo Night – but it’s a cool spot and I’m always down when something I’m into gets booked there. (My first time going, way back in 2016 I think, I saw the previously-covered-here Little Wings perform in matching teal shirts, white pants and flip flops. I’ll never forget that.) The main draw for me was Philly’s own SUPERCURSE, taking up the middle of a three-band bill along with Ropebreaks and Fishnet, two bands I’d never heard before.
Turns out that’s with fair reason: they’re both fairly new bands. Maybe it’s that I’ve been on a Beatles kick lately, but I was primed to like Ropebreaks, a power trio with all three – drums, bass, guitar – switching lead vocal duties. Could have guessed at their influences from the presence of not one but two Rickenbackers on stage. (Sure enough, the fellas are involved with some sort of recurring British Invasion Tribute Night; the last one was in January at The Grape, in Manayunk.) Musically they were catchy and tuneful enough, and I love when bands switch lead singer duties. Keeps things interesting. Nothing groundbreaking, but a nice, endearing set.
SUPERCURSE was next. I’ve heard them described as heavy slowcore, but the band – another power trio, with Mark Watter on guitar and vocals, Brian Sanderson on bass and Clay Kaledin on drums – traded more in a heavy, pounding, acerbic midtempo stomp, doomy and drawing heavily on post-hardcore. Watter plied a tuned-down-a-fourth customized Jaguar-ish ax, built by Moon Guitars, and played it like one of those old Tonight Show animal expert guests guiding a wild cat on a tight leash around the studio; it sounded deep and menacing, and threatened to turn violently feral on a dime, if the tamer had a change of heart. Kaledin’s sub-heavy kick patterns and Sanderson’s knotty lines were locked in and tight, driving the heavy-riffage sections with muscle; there were shoegaze-y glide-guitar moments every now and then. The mood was dark and nasty, and Watter’s a true showman, their set culminating with him him down on the floor, back-bent, lacerating guitar droning and squealing. It might have been a sunny day in our corner of the world, but in the dark red light of KFN’s live room, anger and cathartic energy struck the right chord.
