November 2025
Drop the needle on We Demand A Permanent State of Happiness, the latest Deaf Club album, and the music is instantly abrasive, sonically discordant, and an experiment in pushing the tension to the aural limits just before the break. (If one were to listen to my girlfriend reacting to me playing these records, it’s the sound of “I hate my parents…”) However whereas other bands aim to create noisy cacophonies, listening to Deaf Club reveals intricacies and verbal wordplay that possesses a lot more depth than the average noise rock band. Such tends to be consistent in the lineage of bands that Justin Pearson has been a part of over the last 30+ years.
The Locust, Swing Kids, Crimson Curse, Holy Molar, Head Wound City, and Dead Cross, amongst numerous other projects of Pearson’s tend to have a throughline of having some elements that set them far apart from the noise, emo violence, and punk scenes that the bands have misshapenly fit into.
“The terms that I would use would be annoying or absurd. I don’t know, I don’t want to be able to go ‘we’re this kinda band.’ So when someone says ‘describe it,’ I just don’t. I say go fucking figure it out for yourself.”
Having initially been exposed to punk through skateboarding and Thrasher Magazine music compilations, Pearson left his childhood home in Phoenix and moved to San Diego, finding the town’s DIY music scene, which was large enough to have a variety of bands who were pushing boundaries of what most people might think of as ‘listenable.’ Venues like the mostly volunteer run Che Cafe hosted shows with underground bands of all genres, and demonstrated the alternative to a economics-centric mainstream environment.
“I do think that this idea of ‘outlawness’ is rooted in the DNA of what punk is,” Pearson says, talking about his own years starting off being upset with his parents, and later on his boss or the government. “Or me railing against bigoted society’s fucking racist homophobic sexist bullshit,” he continues. Pearson’s lyrics and bands have tended to have lyrics narrowed in politically on individuals and mentalities that target or hurt people, species and ecosystems in their thirst for power.
But here is where the subtleties lie.
“There’s things seeping into every human being’s brain at this juncture, no matter where you fit on the political or life spectrum. As far as a lyricist, I don’t know if I’m getting through to someone. I don’t know if what I’m saying is relevant. But I also know that there are things that transcend language and words and that’s music. That’s kinda weird for me to say as a lyricist but I think that there’s a larger picture of the energy that comes behind the music. When I was 12 years old and discovered punk I didn’t understand politics. But if I didn’t understand Crass or Chumbawamba lyrics, it was still there. It was something else, the intensity, the artwork, the imagery, the overall aesthetic, the kinda sheer absurdity of what was being created artistically. It spoke to me and it made me feel comfortable, it made me feel sane.”
Pearson continues explaining the feeling that he has tried to insert into his own musical projects.
“So yeah, I could say something in a lyric or in a song, but I think the bigger picture is to try to have an artistic outcome, which is our album or whatever, and to have it speak to someone. It might not be speaking in the sense that we wanna fight this certain oppressive element of the world we live in, it might just be ‘hey we get you and we wanna connect with you and we’re on this same mindset, or realm or level or whatever you wanna call it. So it’s like a vague way to say it, but the thing that is more important to me is connecting with someone. And they don’t have to like the kind of music or get the lyrics or even come from the same background or whatever. There’s that whole thing, ‘I’m not punk, I don’t have a leather jacket,’ or whatever, ‘I can’t come to those shows’ but yeah, you should. You totally should. It’s for you. I think that as a lyricist and a vocalist I’m just one of four people in Deaf Club creating a bigger picture, and that’s just it, we’re all speaking languages I guess.”
In addition to Deaf Club and his musical ventures, Pearson has run a record label, authored a number of books, cohosted a podcast that has featured a unique lineup of guests from the underground and outsider art worlds, and was recently the subject of a documentary that mixes interviews with plenty of archival footage of these past projects. What may be most notable of all of this is not that Pearson is aiming for popularity but instead has held his values up over commercial viability. As I talk to him, he mentions that he had just had a conversation with other members of The Locust over pulling the band’s music from the Spotify platform in part for the platform’s complicity with running ads for the United States Immigration and Customs Enforcement.
“Today I think these are the things that are relevant and would maybe hinder us financially to some extent, not that Spotify’s paying us, but I understand what the tool is as far as marketing or getting exposure. Those kinda things have been rooted in my musical past. As far as The Locust, we boycotted Clear Channel venues back in the mid-2000’s when Clear Channel was monopolizing the music venue industry, and when they were rejecting artists from playing their venues for speaking out against one of the many wars in Iraq. We were getting offers for these big tours with big artists, and most of the booking agents were like ‘are you fucking kidding me, not only is this annoying but you’re pissing away a bunch of money!’ Yeah, totally, we were fine with that. I’d rather die poor knowing that I have integrity. I don’t want to sound like an egotistical dick – I think a lot of times I might sound like that – but as long as you’re aware of things and you’re trying to make a better effort, I think that’s good.”
We Demand A Permanent State of Happiness picks up where the Deaf Club’s first album, Productive Disruption, left off. Intentionally aiming to be an abrasive thorn in the side of casual listening. As Pearson mentions that when he got into punk, it meant hanging out in a record store and sifting through records, maybe taking a chance on buying something based on a the artwork or having heard of a band mentioned by a friend or seen on a flyer, he says that the act of discovering music tended to be more special. “You can make your conclusion if it’s good or bad within a matter of seconds now,” he says. And again, it seems to reference what has set most of Pearson’s projects apart from others: that lingering integration of tactile sounds and visuals, of art directed at those who feel that there’s something fucked up with the business as usual world around them, or creating projects aiming for a reaction but also having layers of substance that goes much deeper than the shock value. Above all, Pearson continues to push for DIY and alternative spaces.
“There’s this thing where you find comfort in community, which is what you find in Koo’s Cafe, or Che Cafe, or the Gilman or The Smell [each of these are current or defunct all ages DIY music and art spaces]. Those are places where community is built or strengthened and I think those are important elements. I don’t want to play to the person who’s jaded and doesn’t give a fuck about anything anymore. Those are the spots that are really really important not only for the survival of art, but also the survival of the better element or aspect of humanity. I think as punks we’re kinda supposed to set things straight and that’s hopefully what’s happening.”
Deaf Club will perform at The Holland Project in Reno on Monday, November 10th. Tickets are available here.
Listen to Deaf Club on BandCamp or follow their Instagram or Facebook page.
