Uncle Blender, Clibbus, Problem Addict, Lo-Fives
Dumpster Out Back
Philadelphia
August 15, 2026
There's a lot said through a name. I thought about that after seeing a band named "Uncle Blender" this past weekend at DIY venue Dumpster Out Back. "Uncle," as a title, doesn't really carry with it a sign of respect or superiority, but it isn't necessarily a diss. It has a sense of familiarity to it, possibly even a sense of embarrassment (drunk uncle). Or maybe it brings to mind someone who's slightly older and out of touch. When you add the word "blender," it doesn't matter if "uncle" is well-meaning after the sharp metal blades liquify all those small embarrassing oversteps into a rude loud unavoidable vortex.
The first time I saw Uncle Blender perform was at Cambria house show in spring of 2025. The guitarist, Katie, was collapsed into a puddle on the ground, loudly soloing, and Cameron was running through the audience like a terrifying gander, chasing people with a large megaphone. My friend Abby walked over to me after the set with a bemused grin and asked "What the fuck was that?" There have been some changes to Uncle Blender in the year and change since I first saw them. The original drummer has left; they've toured as a three-piece; they gained new drummer and noise maker Gladys; Cameron spends less time chasing people with a megaphone. But essentially they still are a ballistic maelstrom with a fun, goofy edge. They seem to pull from the genres like 'powerviolence,' or the deep growls of 'death metal,' but the songs have a disembodied, improvised feel. Their sound feels informed by the playful rampage of Butthole Surfers or Amphetamine Reptile-era 'pigfuck' music.
Blender was the final band of the night, and they ripped through a bumpy off-roading set full of fast jagged blasters. Cameron still lunges into the audience occasionally but concentrates more on playing saxophone and tinkering with all manner of electronics, ripping on guitar, singing lead vocals and — if that weren't enough — also swapping out to play drums. The new drummer Gladys came out dressed in a bib that looked fit for eating lobster... featuring a medical map of what I believe was a human torso. The different organs all attached to the bib came off piece by piece during the performance and later that night I found a long, felt large intestine shoved inside my portable beer cooler. Gladys also added clanging percussion sounds with what looked like the bottom of an oven, hitting coils and plates and taking breaks to slide across the floor on her back. Her role was reminiscent of a chain tossing Jamie Muir in '72-'73 era King Crimson. At one point she formed a kind of totem pole with the torso bib and a balaclava and, after walking it through the audience, proceeded to beat the hell out of it with a metal pipe.
Bassist/Singer Caleb had the space rumbling with solid low end distortion throughout the evening and maintained a delicate balance oscillating his voice between deep scary dog barks and chimpanzee screams. Katie, the guitarist/singer, was fully effective with her exorcist-like vocal delivery and chunky shredded rat-distortion riffs. The band had a hat filled with their song titles/concepts which audience members randomly picked for them to play. A large screen behind them played karaoke versions of pop classics and seemed appropriate for this calamitous performance.
The whole bill was a choice lead up for Uncle Blender. Clibbus from Rochester were truly different. They had a missing bass player and pulled off some two-piece trickery and coupled it wild physical gyrations setting us up for the head space of the final act. Problem Addict always has a wild loud guitar driven hit to them and really pushed their sound this time with their additional percussionist, who gave us a couple of crazy/loud pyrotechnic sounds. Lo-Fives delivered a particularly crisp performance, being a band that excels as a cohesive live unit at almost every gig, and it was exciting to hear some new song material. The night was rowdy and loud, and there was even some forbidden moshing despite the DOB having signs warning folks "Do not jump, the floor will cave in!"
