Robyn Writes

Review: Fange – Poisse

Poisse is not a record for the faint of heart or those with a quaint disposition. It is the tortured confines of purgatory personified; awash with abrasion, sliced with bouts of ear-splitting feedback and delivered in a drop-tuning that resides in the lower end of the human capacity for aural recognition. Poisse threatens the destruction of the sturdiest speaker stacks, overflowing with a seething rage; a caustic fury from which there is no salvation. Melody is not a word recognised by Fange, a band consisting of members who have already honed their demonic subversions within the French underground metal scene. It seems that for Fange, the main objective is nothing short of outright decimation, to pummel the listener into submission through crushing riff after crushing riff- occasionally breaking into a laboured gallop and flaunting a groove so mired in sludge and muddy distortion as to render it almost incomprehensible. Every aspect of the record is subsumed in such resolute discord that Poisse is solidified as a supreme work of uncompromising outrage. The vocals, surely unintelligible even to French speakers, amount to nothing less than a hellish gurgle, as if the vocalist is delivering his ragged growls whilst in the throes of being waterboarded.

Fange: a French word which translates as ‘mire’, and therefore becomes the most impeccably apt title for a band since ‘Coldplay’. To expose oneself to Poisse is to wallow in a mire of desolation and depravity of the most extreme order. As such, the record carries an appeal that is hugely limited; radiating a sound of such merciless malevolence as to place Fange into a tiny niche of sordid heaviness. It’s the blistering destructiveness of such powerviolence luminaries as Nails and Weekend Nachos being torn apart by cataclysm, the pace of their onslaught dragged back to a crawl.

The intensity is so extreme, however, that after even a few tracks listeners will be reaching for some Death Cab For Cutie to retain a semblance of balance. Poisse is no doubt a commendable feat of aural extremism, but that very extreme postulation is also the record’s downfall. Dynamism and variety remain defiantly absent and as such the crushing chug and incessant blasts of feedback soon become monotonous. As an experiment in extremity, Poisse is a veritable success. As a rewarding listening experience it is decidedly less so, unless of course, you’re seeking a soundtrack to a bout of good old fashioned violence.

3 out of 5 high fives!

Review: Shellshock Lullaby – Shades of Grey [EP]

Shellshock Lullaby is a solo project from Russ Nelson, who comes from Butte, Montana. That is literally the most interesting thing about this record. Shades of Grey is aptly titled, and its dull pop-rock tirade merely passes through different stereotypes before crashing out into nothingness.

Everything about Shades of Grey screams ‘cliché’, from the acoustic intro and outro to the whiny pop-punk vocals. The title track is all about problems with a girl (surprise, surprise), and drones on and on about how he’s moving on and this girl’s gonna get what’s coming to her and please… give me a break. There’s absolutely no bite to it, or any of these songs. The chorus is completely lost within layers of riffs that attempt to be clever. There’s a slight improvement in ‘I’ve Walked That Road’, which at least has a few interesting hooks, but apart from that, it sounds exactly like its predecessor. ‘All I Need’ tries to introduce some atmosphere with a sprinkling of piano, before launching into a verse riff that intends to be soaring but simply fails to take flight. It’s almost as if there’s a different vocalist in play in ‘The Look in Your Eyes’, but sadly, it just slides back into the same old routine. Nelson attempts some really weird tapping in the instrumental towards the end, and it just completely interrupts the whole flow of the song. And of course, it wouldn’t be complete without a completely acoustic ballad, which features some background strings and piano, offering forth an awkward declaration of distant love.

There’s a huge oversaturation of music like this out there at the moment and maybe, in another time and another place, this record might have ended up more likeable than it is. But as it stands, it’s on the weaker end of the spectrum. Even the latest Avril Lavigne album has more depth than this, and that’s saying something.

1.5 out of 5 high fives!

Review: The Feels – Dead Skin [EP]

The band name says it all, really. This ‘one-man full band’, headed up by ex-Candy Hearts bassist Christian Stefos Migliorese, don’t aim to misbehave, but to get it all out in the open. Dead Skin is a beautiful pop record, filled with big hooks and tender melodies. It’s a joy to listen to, not only because it sounds great, but because its songs are honest conversations that we’ve all had at some point in our lives, either with ourselves or with someone else. Never since Dashboard Confessional has it been so cool to lay all your feels down on the line.

Dead Skin starts off strong with ‘Dumb or 21’. Bouncy guitar riffs evoke memories of 90s pop-punk in this coming-of-age tale, and it’s so upbeat and stupidly catchy and everything that you need to kick off the better weather. The EP’s also got the first two singles on it, and ‘Purple Heart’ is still as wonderful as ever. A simple acoustic opening builds up into a perfect chorus, little 80s fills and background harmonies that are simply irresistible. If there’s a song that you’re going to remember from this record, it’s ‘Purple Heart’. It’s not to say that ‘I-95 (In Another Life)’ doesn’t carry the same weight that it did pre-EP release because it totally does, and it’s lovely and bittersweet, jangly and totally emo. There’s some NFG-style stompers in tracks like ‘Maybe’, and quiet, contemplative jams like ‘Glassy Eyed’. And unlike a lot of records in this vein, it’s surprisingly mature – ‘When Things Were Good’ might sound like it belongs on the soundtrack of a teen rom-com, but it’s a heartbreaking acoustic ode to the past that refrains from demonising it. It’s also blissfully simple – too many records make grand overtures, over-romanticising former relationships, but in ‘When Things Were Good’, it’s the little things that sting, like not being able to smoke a bowl and go back to bed with that someone special. And with Migliorese’s soft and measured vocals, the whole record strikes the perfect tone – there’s no Chris Carrabba style whining here.

It’s hard to articulate how great this record is. Maybe that’s because Migliorese has already said it for me. Also, my mum thought it sounded like New Found Glory. The lady likes a bit of New Found Glory, so that’s always a bonus.

4.5 out of 5 high fives!

Review: Murderofcrows – Gibbets

Murderofcrows are a new punkish hardcore four-piece from Gothenburg, here to share with you their feelings of dread, sorrow and alienation in the form of new EP Gibbets. Daniel Liljedahl wrenches the vocals out of the dry depths of his gut, joined by the punk drum beats of Johannes Koren and the strings of both guitarist Anton Hedlund and bassist Jimmy Olausson.

The EP is carved into 4 tracks, the first three flowing as you might expect for a band I’ve described as punkish hardcore – all songs less than 2mins, fast drums, throaty screams – with the final and title track offering a little something extra as well.

First track ‘Crooked Words’ is straight-up what I expected: a fast, hard-edged track, with stripped-down instrumentation but overflowing with anger and negativity. Next up ‘Ol’ Geogie’ lets the guitar and bass take some of the limelight, slowing the tempo and allowing a bit of rhythm to take over, but it isn’t long before Daniel charges back to the fore “LIVE, LIE, LIVE, DIE”. Even though ‘Set Myself Alight’ has a little guitar and drum feature at the beginning, it quickly runs into the fast-paced punk set up, with Daniels coarse cries once again a feature “SET MYSELF ALIGHT!”.

The closing track ‘Gibbets’ doesn’t just bring the title of the EP with it, it brings a bloody great surprise with it too. As a final track it really stands on its own as slower and more purposeful than the others. It showcases better crafter changes of pace, really delivering the coarsely screamed cries with a spine-chilling edge: “You look away, I look away, we all look away”…

As it kicks back into life, what is evident is that the messages conveyed in the lyrical content are far more than the angst and rebellion of some punk, it’s full on depression and despair, engulfed in hopelessness and collapsing into nothingness. I’m not sure even that sums it up accurately, but in essence, this shit is pretty fucking dark: “This life is just a fucking nightmare and we all end up alone”.

If you could put music by a colour chart, for these guys we’d need to find something darker than black.

At 11mins long I thought we were in store for an metal-esque epic, but the teases bring something much creepier to the table. The main body of the song is just over three minutes in all of its dark decent into madness; then all goes quiet. Okay, so Murderofcrows aren’t the only band to have a quiet 6-7mins at the end of an EP before a quick burst of life – but I can’t remember it ever being done this eerily.

With about a minute left on the clock, a slight sound of distortion creeps in. Distortion and white noise… or is that distorted screams? I could be hearing things here, but whatever you hear it as, it brings back memories of the horror films you shouldn’t have been watching (but definitely did) when you were young. Finally, the creepy-ass noise gives way to a brief sort of exitlude of punkish drums and Daniel’s screams.

If you like punk, if you like hardcore, if you like anything dark, listen to this.

4 out of 5 high fives!

Review: More Than Life – What’s Left Of Me

Since 2008’s esteemed EP Brave Enough To Fail, More Than Life have metamorphosed from scrappy hardcore kids, with a distinct knack for penning memorable melodies, to perhaps the finest and most refined outfit in the healthily crowded sub-genre of melodic hardcore. It is, of course, a genre of paradox: vocal introspection and self-reflection are consistently on par with Morrissey’s levels of ultra-sensitive soul-baring, and it is he whose song ‘Angel, Angel Down We Go Together’ quite fittingly provides the lyric from which More Than Life derive their namesake. Yet, such pained contemplations are usually delivered with a vitriolic catharsis, a throat-shredding furore with which the hardcore contingent once typically rallied against social injustice and heavy-handed police tactics. Whilst hardcore’s more overtly aggressive sphere busy themselves with upping the stakes in terms of belligerence and sheer brute force, acts such as More Than Life, Landscapes and Hindsights ruminate upon fraught emotions whilst casting a net of visionary influence that spreads further than the genre’s self-imposed restrictions.

Their second full-length, What’s Left Of Me, is the fullest realization of More Than Life’s dynamic blueprint which was laid down in more rough-hewn terms within their debut full length Love Let Me Go. Now though, they’re afforded a markedly clearer production quality, allowing for the consideration of nuance and a newfound sonic depth which benefits these nine tracks to no end. First single ‘Do You Remember’ is a prime example- soft, even wispy backing vocals align with delayed guitar and sparse piano lines in perhaps the most instantly affecting outing on the record. Vocalist James gifts his once abrasive screams a melodic edge whilst sacrificing none of the startling conviction behind the delivery. It allows not only for greater clarity in lyricism; it cements the totality of the band’s conscious evolution toward tones that draw farther from the hardcore oeuvre which existed as the main pool of reference amongst their previous output. What is soon palpable is that the distance between More Than Life and their peers is growing, the band throwing off the shackles of their more overtly bellicose past and fronting practices concurrent with Brand New’s more hushed and laconic work. ‘Love Is Not Enough’s’ gorgeous closing coda provides succinct example: an acoustic passage made all the more mournful by the inclusion of a cello- always the go-to instrument with which to denote a sense of sorrow. That’s not to say More Than Life have totally uprooted themselves from their punk sensibilities, tracks such as ‘You’re Not Alone’ and ‘Weight of The World’ carry more than enough kinetic force to incite circle pits of ferocious tumult.

Much of the band’s once blistering drive has now given way to expansiveness. At times, almost shimmering guitars, now devoid of once overdriven tones, cut lyrical passages through the mix. Such a newfound emphasis on aural undercurrents proves More Than Life now possess a clearly defined cross-over sound that they can truly call their own. Of course, they could stand accusation of toning down their once visceral approach, but although they have successfully ridden themselves of clear-cut “mosh parts”, the same cannot be said for the lyrical output which has only been exacerbated in fraught disposition since their previous outings. Mathews offers a lyrical repertoire that is nothing short of a verbal self-flagellation, his reminiscence on lost love and youthful naivety subsumed in a melancholy that’s clearly painful to recollect. Yet, he does so unflinchingly, wearing his emotional scars for all to see.

With decidedly less outward rage with which to mask the bare sincerity of the lyrical palette, More Than Life, and James Matthews in particular, have enacted a particularly brave turn in direction that sees the hardcore influence diminished whilst the melodicism becomes the central facet. Ultimately, it is a development that has more than paid off and the band’s inclinations towards the epic, coupled with a more multi-dimensional approach to songwriting, such a move only points towards their devoted fan-base of sensitive souls growing exponentially.

4 out of 5 high fives!