A friend of mine often recounts his first punk show—Black Flag in Spokane back in 1986—with intimidated reverence. He was 14-years-old at the time and had hitchhiked to the show from North Bend. The band was dealing with their usual mixture of hostility and enthusiasm from the crowd. Rollins apparently had enough of one particularly disrespectful concert attendee in the front row. Grabbing the guy by his hair, Rollins repeatedly bashed the guy’s head into a floor monitor mid-performance. As my friend tells it, he didn’t miss a lyric. For anyone that’s read Get In The Van, this seems pretty par for course. Black Flag was violent and imposing, dangerous and unhinged. In the 25 years since the band called it a day, many a punk act has tried to replicate their genuine ferocity. Very few have managed to even come close.

But the Bay Area’s Oxbow does a pretty damn good job at matching Black Flag’s dissonant hostility and discomfort. Frontman Eugene Robinson has the frame and the fighting skills to whoop Rollins’ ass, but Robinson trumps Rollins in terms of terrifying stage presence. Robinson is built like a boxer and covered in dubious tattoos. On stage, he alternately projects alpha-male hyper-masculinity and sexual servitude, usually starting the set in a suit and tie and ending the set nearly naked. Along the way, Robinson can make even the most confident audience member hide their eyes. At any moment, you feel like you may be violated.

So it makes prefect sense that founding Flagger Chuck Dukowski tapped Robinson to help reanimate some of Dukowski’s unreleased Black Flag material. Enlisting drummer Tom Dobrov and guitarist Milo Gonzalez, Dukowski and Robinson have titled the project Black Face. With two seven inches in the works and plans for playing live, Black Face is poised to be the most vitriolic and legitimate of the post-Black Flag projects. Prepare to be traumatized.