Ultra Pulverize - Gorillas in the Fist LP (Sophomore Lounge, 2025)
"“It’s just three guys; they have a bodybuilder guy rapping over a drum machine and a synthesizer.”
A friend at the time had done his best to describe the opening bands for the evening, one of them named Ultra Pulverize. This unusual description would only be the FIRST time that Chris Vititoe, Andrew Vititoe, and Jared Busch would defy my expectations. I had immediately made some sort of presumption based upon the name as the trauma still lingered from the onslaught of lame, unoriginal hardcore “punk” bands that had names like that in the late 1990’s and early 2000’s. Those bands did their best to project an artificial toughness but were almost always just well-to-do white guys from nice neighborhoods who never could effectively shed the antiseptic sheen of their coddled upbringing; however expensive and loud their gear was and whatever agresso name they adopted for their summer aural hobbies.
So- a synthesizer? A rapping bodybuilder? Drum machine? This confusing sequence of words should have roused my interest more than it did but I was a little tuned out. We were playing at the disastrously rebooted BRYCC House in Louisville, Kentucky, which was resurrected in a former convenience store in a not-so-shiny part of Old Louisville. My band at the time, Lucky Pineapple, crowded into the back room operated as a green room but felt more like a decommissioned free clinic. I don’t recall there being a lot of enthusiasm for any bit of the night.
I was near my younger brother David, also of Lucky Pineapple, and we heard the occasional blip, beep, and sweep of the synthesizer, the occasional “POW!” of the drum machine. I might have heard a bit of a vocal check. I would always go watch some of the other bands’ sets just to be polite and respectful but I wasn’t up and running out there just yet. Then they started playing, opening with the theme to Unsolved Mysteries...? David and I locked eyes as the sound detonated within our heads and were out there within a few seconds.
I absolutely could not believe what I was seeing and hearing. Andrew’s vocal style and sound struck me more within the traditional punk sphere of John Lydon or the likes as far as how it was meant to cut through with a sinister, snotty, biting humor. He was “rapping” but it sort of upset my musical equilibrium in how original it and he was; he had effectively bypassed the “culture vulture” charge in being a white guy within the vicinity of rap in how he had shaped his performance. Nobody but nobody could have or would have ever expected the drum machine to be played manually and fed through a series of outboard effects. All the while, a synthesizer was carrying so much sonic, melodic, colorful, and occasionally abrasive heft that would ordinarily be accomplished by multiple instruments.
As I made out words and references- It was undeniable that this band was smart, original, and very funny. But they were humorous in the way that Sparks is: there’s humor but it’s not a joke. They’re not a comic band. It’s seriously funny. And there are serious themes and subjects interwoven throughout. And you have to be super fucking smart and talented to accomplish that.
Louisville digested Ultra Pulverize in different ways. Some people just could not and would not get it as they were stifled within their very pedestrian, rock/punk rock paradigms; seeing them as either a novelty act or just not “rock” enough to sit comfortably within their conservative ideas of punk and unable to accept any challenge to the categorical, well-worn tropes that kept them musically pacified. The gimmick of being “rebellious” being just as dogmatic and dull as the guy (and it’s always going to be a fucking guy) whose tastes are curated by Clear Channel and Spotify; telling you that there’s no point in even trying to be better than Led Zeppelin, blah fuckin’ blah...
Ultra Pulverize came out of the gate good and just kept evolving and getting better and better. I was in a band with six minute songs that had five parts and varying time signatures — they could really make me feel like a fucking dinosaur frozen in time in comparison to their advanced artistic ambitions and seemingly innate talents and drive.
Their music is evergreen; it will never sound dated, or less innovative. To my ears and brain, it keeps getting better.
The loss of Andrew was and is immeasurable. His mind, that level of talent, and the wellspring of creativity is all still beyond anybody that I can think of. The cataclysmic event of his passing was and remains the end of a profound chapter within my life and the lives of many of the people that I know and love the most. That tragic time was when many of us had to accept that this really incredible part of our lives was now fully over and that we had to go on, even with this giant void where a massive light and heart once was. Everything would now be different.
Andrew and I once realized in a discussion that we had nearly identical incidents as young people when we saw Eraserhead and how it had been a relief to see that there were other weirdos out there like that, like us. I’ve been lucky to experience that many times since but few, if any, of these occurrences were as profound, inspiring, and gratifying as having been a friend to and a fan of Chris, Jared, and Andrew." - William Benton, 2025