Review: Bangers — Bird

So top Southern punx Bangers have gotten round to doing yet another full-length record. This is generally good news for the entire nation, and in this time of great strife and political unrest that means I spend most of my evenings screaming very bad words at the television every time George Osbourne says anything at all, the prospect of new Bangers managed to put a smile on my face.

It seems that Roo is feeling just as grumpy as I am from the off as the album launches into ‘No!’, and a clear dissatisfaction with life in general seems to be the order of the day. But even as he shouts “No! I don’t think it’s getting better!”, I’ve got one substantial grin and the urge to fist pump the shit out of everything Judd Nelson-style. Typical, chunky Bangers riffs dominate this and the following track ‘Mannequin’, with those fantastic bass licks you’ve come to expect from Andrew rumbling on in the background.

From the start, Bird demonstrates a tremendous amount of energy and purpose — something that’s never been lacking from a Bangers record, but seems to be even more urgent and ever present than ever before. There’s also a huge level of control, which may seem a little out of kilter for a punk record, but it never feels too polished. Instead, there’s a Jawbreaker-esque level of bluntness and honesty, even in slightly more metaphoric tracks like ‘The Trousers of Time’. However, if there’s any track that really grabbed my attention, it’s ‘Fleshlings’, with its jangly, guitar-led fury, relentless rhythm and the repeated mantra that “everything will fall into place”.

You might think that Mysterious Ways was the weirdest thing Bangers ever wrote — and indeed, the 48-hour recording haze that led to its creation meant some fantastically bizarre songs came out on top, including the mind-bendingly fantastic ‘Mosquito’ — but Bird is pretty weird at times, despite the greater level of polish. ‘Asimov’ is really haunting in places, mostly thanks to the oddly deep backing vocals. It leads into the intricate and puzzling ‘Vibrate’, which builds up slowly thanks to some of the tightest drumming I’ve ever heard on a Bangers record. And it’s not all bad news — ‘Partial Eclipse’ ends the record on a pretty chilled out note, with a much more upbeat feel and a reminder that it’s not all so bad after all.

It’s hard to believe that this is only Bangers’ third LP, given their fairly prolific discography over the past few years, but all of those EPs and splits, plus the non-stop touring, has meant that they’ve learned a thing or two about writing a great song. There’s something weirdly English about it — perhaps that’s the grumbling — but it offers a certain level of catharsis that I’ve been sorely needing. It’s a virtual guarantee that I’ll always like a Bangers record, but I love Bird, because even though it’s full of vitriol and existential doubt, it’s dead clever with it, relentlessly loud and a whole lot of fun. Necessary listening, no matter what you’re into.

5 out of 5 high fives!


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