Demonica is a five-piece Boston-based queer hardcore punk band coming to melt your eardrums with their fast-paced and powerful sound. The band consists of Sydney Richelle on vocals, Jamie Berland on violin, Ziggy Redman on bass, Atticus Crowley on guitar, and Maeve Malloy on drums. Their newest five-track EP Demonica came out on March 17 with a style that pulls from classic hardcore sounds, while also incorporating new elements and putting their stamp on the genre. The band sat down with me to break down the album and answer the question: “Who the hell is Demonica?”

The album opens with a melodic 4 ½ minute track which shares its name with the album and the band. “Demonica” is a more sensitive and personal introduction to the themes of the album, with a moody guitar riff and somber violin strings. The lyrics tell a story of feeling defined by the things other people demonize you for. One of the themes it establishes which carries over to the other four tracks is becoming a devil, becoming the embodiment of the “evil” parts of yourself, and finding power in that. Richelle’s inspiration for the lyrics stemmed from the rampant misogyny they experienced in the hardcore scene which led to them feeling demonized and dehumanized. “It didn't matter how bad the men were, it was always my fault. So, I personified every bad trait that they saw [and] bad thing that they made me out to be, and that was Demonica.” This song went on to inspire the band’s name, and it sets the tone for the rest of the EP.

“Drain Me” feels like the build-up of the subdued anger from the first track; it carries on the theme of embodying one’s demonized persona, and introduces the idea of drawing strength from it. It almost feels like a partial retelling of the struggles from track one, but this time with more fury behind it. Additionally, there are fewer feelings of guilt from the perspective of the storyteller about their identity. There is a sense of realizing that the people who demonize you for who you are are the ones to blame. The vocals are much more aggressive and raw this time around, delivered in a tone that is equal parts theatrical and raw anger, devolving into pure screams toward the song’s climax. The combination of a powerful guitar and a fast-paced violin gives a distorted and eerie feel to the music. In the final verse, the lyrics describe a meeting with the devil that ends with the phrase, “When you kiss the devil, the devil fucks you.” Richelle describes this as a continuation of the themes of dehumanization “When you even so much as entertain [those who] demonize, they will take every chance they have to fuck you, both literally and metaphorically.”

Track three, “Pray,” is perfect for fans of artists like Dazey and the Scouts, as it is a frenetic and punchy track with lyrics that describe the frustration of feeling trapped in a situation where the world screws you over at every turn. Something that stood out to me about this song upon first listen was just how well the violin sound blended with the rest of the instruments. Violins and punk rock are two things that typically don’t get mentioned concerning each other. But it adds another layer of theatricality to these tracks that embellishes the Rocky Horror influences, as well as creating a unique sound when blending with the guitar and bass. Berland describes the process of composing violin for punk rock as “explorative.” With few other punk violinists to pull inspiration from, Berland’s process was experimental but the result was a match made in heaven. This song encapsulates Redman’s inspirations for Demonica, My Chemical Romance meets Bikini Kill.

Track four, “Raping Myself,” grabs ahold of you right off the bat with an energetic bass intro. Once the rest of the instruments join in, it kicks into high gear for a song that unleashes pure pent-up fury onto the listener. It reminds me of something by L7 or Babes In Toyland, very in-your-face and forces you to pay attention to what they have to say. The breaking point comes halfway into the song where, after an instrumental build-up, Richelle lets out a guttural scream before challenging the forces preventing them from having autonomy in a “man’s world.” Before repeating the phrase, “And yeah, maybe I am raping myself, but at least it's not you, at least it's not you.” The phrase “raping myself” comes from the words Richelle would use to describe forced self-destructive patterns they had to engage in to feel respected by the men around them—behaviors that these men would demonize them for. In short, the song is calling out bullshit and doing it well.

The final track, “Eating Babies,” deals with body autonomy for AFAB people in a decade where it is constantly being stripped away. The vocals in the verses are delivered with a sense of quiet anger mirrored by instrumentals that sound straight out of a horror movie soundtrack. When the chorus kicks in that quiet anger gets loud real fast, with lyrics describing the dehumanizing nature of forced birth and pointing out the absurdity of anti-abortion scare tactics. The lyrics, “she was just a child and you still act like we’re all eating babies,” are an excellent example of this. Ending the EP with a song that calls out blatant demonization encapsulates the themes of the album in a powerful conclusion.

So, when answering the question “Who is Demonica?,” it’s best to focus on the words of the band themselves and what this project represents to them. For Berland, it represents the chance to take the parts of themself that were unwillingly sexualized and put down, and turn that into something that “can be beautiful and powerful, and this is what it has to say.” This sentiment is mirrored by Redman, who describes it as a place to take the most vulnerable parts of yourself and unleash them, “I’m gonna take all this shit and all my rage and all my sadness, my betrayal, all of it.” For Crowley, Demonica represents a chance to play pure hardcore punk in the best way possible, by being able to “take that demonized part of a bunch of people and just turn it into a big thing where we can all just like, get our energy out, get everything out and be vulnerable and open and just have a good time.” For Richelle, Demonica is a lifeline and a way to break free from complete dehumanization and being reduced to stereotypical roles. “I could be loud and assertive and, you know, defensive of my humanity. I could use this demon created by all the people who told me that that was all I was to turn around and prove to them that I was much more than that.”

Demonica is unapologetically queer, loud, angry, and steadfast in what it represents. If you found yourself empathizing with any of the experiences described in this breakdown, or you’re a fan of hardcore/queer punk and looking for a new artist to add to your playlist, then Demonica might just be your newest underground obsession.

You can listen to “Demonica” on Spotify, and follow them on social media Instagram, Twitter, and TikTok

Meet Demonica: Boston-based Queer Noise Rock Band