Ben Grenrock was raised by wolves.
Years ago, explorers, conquistadors, and various adventurous dweebs found fascinating things while searching for the Fountain of Youth: diverse indigenous cultures, undiscovered species of plants and animals, Florida. But they never found what they were looking for. Centuries later, in the sun-blasted bowl of smog and commodified fantasy known as the San Fernando Valley, L.A. punk outfit No Parents have discovered their own version of the Fountain of Youth. Anyone else who saw it would probably just call it a keg…and they’d only be mostly wrong.
Since forming in 2012, No Parents have concocted an elixir for eternal adolescence, not from a mixture of GG Allin’s preserved spit and domestic beer as it might seem, but out of sheer force of will. The band members’ commitment to the mindset of a shower-phobic high school truant has successfully embalmed them in the golden years of house parties and kitchen-table tattoos for the foreseeable future.
They’ve graced stages throughout the country with precisely the relentless energy, greasy invulnerability, and the jejune sneer of a seventeen-year old-whose favorite movie is Jackass 2, and as anyone who’s ever had Bud Light spilled on his or her Doc Martens at a No Parents show can attest, it’s been a glorious and inspiring thing to see. But regardless of how well they’ve managed to prolong their adolescence, it’s to be expected that a band that owes its name to the juvenile battle cry typically squealed en route to Daddy’s liquor cabinet would experience some growing pains as time passes.
There’s a reason that most Hollywood films in which a character attains everlasting youth are tragedies. No Parents may have found a malty path to staying young forever, but their friends, alas, are mortal still—growing up, investing in cryptocurrencies, dating their partners for more than three week stints, and leaving the party before four in the morning. How this slow die-off of fellow partiers butts up against the band’s commitment to nihilistic youthfulness is the crux of the song, “Two Beers” off their new EP Still Thirsty, the video for which we’re premiering here at POW.
Directed by Giraffe Studios—the minds behind the mesmerizing videos of another Valley-bred band, Midnight Sister—“Two Beers” finds No Parents exploring this shift of their social landscape in the form of a bedtime story told to a small child by a wizard drinking hot coco. But considering that the band’s identity revolves around a lack of parental supervision, it’s inevitable they’d have a warped idea of suitable bedtime story content. The protagonist of the tale maintains his commitment to booze and drugs even as the party fades around him. Mary Poppins flits around doling out the debauched equivalent of a spoonful of sugar. A nihilistic “Last Supper” tableau descends into what would be a food fight were there any food—and not exclusively piles of joints, powders, and beer cans—on the table.
In the end, we learn that the porcupinal protagonist of the story never sobers up. In fact, he’s a younger version of the aged wizard, still lacing his coco with Jager. Perhaps this is how the members of No Parents see their futures: their bodies may age and they may be graced with snowy beards and even magical powers, but the consumption of psychotropic party favors will never let up, forever feeding their Peter Pan souls. Whether this vision of the future proves youthful folly or an eventuality their hedonism will usher in, only time will tell. For now, enjoy the video, and know that if anyone can pull off punk rock immortality, it’s No Parents.
