Steve Lieberman’s Meet the Gangsta Rabbi (44/82) Opus166 isn’t just an album—it’s an unrelenting sonic event that grabs you by the collar and refuses to let go. This five-track EP feels like it was born in a basement stuffed with feedbacking amps, overloaded four-tracks, and a gleeful disregard for traditional musical rules. It’s not for the faint of heart or the casual listener, but for those who miss the raw chaos of early thrash-punk, this release is a breath of distorted air.
WEBSITE: https://www.gangstarabbi.com/
The word “cacophony” doesn’t do this album justice—it’s pure, unfiltered noise, layered with distorted bass, wailing flutes, and Lieberman’s trademark vocal style that teeters between shouted declarations and half-swallowed mutterings. On the surface, it’s easy to dismiss as a mess of sound, but that’s where the genius of Lieberman lies. He’s a master of chaos, creating a meticulously disorganized soundscape that feels like the closest thing modern music has to pure rebellion.
Let’s face it: mainstream punk, if it exists anymore, is a pale shadow of its former self. Sure, there are a few bands keeping the spirit alive in underground scenes, but what passes as “punk” on the radio often feels sanitized and polished for easy digestion. Lieberman is the antithesis of that. His work is unapologetically abrasive, too loud, and impossible to pin down—a stark reminder of what punk was always meant to be: raw, angry, and impossible to ignore.
In many ways, Lieberman’s work feels like a spiritual cousin to thrashy legends like Black Flag and Dead Kennedys, albeit with a completely unique twist. Tracks like “Skinheads in My Yard Oy Vey Entr’acte 176” pound the listener with relentless noise, driven by Lieberman’s distorted bass and frenetic flute interjections. There’s no melody to hold onto, no comforting hook to guide you through—it’s just pure, visceral sound. The song feels like a middle finger aimed at everything formulaic in modern music.
The album’s opener sets the tone with its manic energy and barely-contained rage. Lieberman’s voice cuts through the mix like a knife dulled by overuse—abrasive, uneven, and entirely captivating. The lyrics are almost impossible to make out, but that only adds to the charm. In true punk fashion, they’re secondary to the energy of the delivery.
On “Gangsta Rabbi (Entr’acte 173),” the EP’s centerpiece, Lieberman leans even harder into the chaos. The distorted bass and screeching flutes battle for dominance while the vocals become yet another layer of noise. Listening to this track is like being dropped into the middle of a riot—it’s overwhelming, disorienting, and impossible to turn away from.
“5 Little Puppies – Entr’acte 171” takes the noise-punk ethos to absurd heights. It’s like someone set a blender off without a lid, and your smoothie has gone horribly (and beautifully) wrong, with Lieberman’s off-kilter instrumentation delivering a mix of tension and humor. It’s impossible not to be both bewildered and impressed by the audacity.
Closing track “Fans, Auditors and Hoes – Entr’acte 167” is perhaps the most aggressive song on the EP. It’s a pounding, disjointed wall of sound that feels like the logical conclusion to everything Lieberman has built up to. By the time it ends, you’re left in stunned silence, wondering what you just experienced.
Let’s be clear: this isn’t music for a relaxing evening at home or a road trip playlist. It’s loud, abrasive, and often overwhelming. But it’s also refreshing, a reminder of the sheer power of music that doesn’t care about being liked. For someone who normally leans toward more structured and melodic sounds, this EP was a surprising delight. It’s not the kind of music I would reach for every day, but there’s something undeniably captivating about Lieberman’s refusal to conform.
Meet the Gangsta Rabbi (44/82) Opus166 isn’t an album, it’s a statement. In a world where punk has often been stripped of its teeth, Steve Lieberman reminds us what it means to be truly rebellious. It’s messy, chaotic, and unapologetically loud, and for that, it deserves to be celebrated. For fans of noise-punk, thrash, or anyone longing for something truly unfiltered, this EP is essential listening. Lieberman may not be everyone’s cup of tea, but he’s exactly what punk needs right now.
Mindy McCall
