Posts Tagged ‘Modern Technology’

Christopher Nosnibor

When you don’t get to see bands playing live very often, it’s important to be selective and make sure the ones you do make it to are worth turning out for. When this show was announced, there was simply no way I was going to miss it. I’ve written extensively on Human Worth and their roster, and have even had the privilege of performing a few gigs that they’ve put on, alongside Modern Technology and others. The main reason I always do my utmost to provide coverage is because I absolutely love the label: it’s pretty much a cast-iron guarantee of being a great record of it’s on Human Worth. And that’s not just my biased opinion: I have a mate who places advance orders for every release because he’s that confident it’ll be worth having if it’s on Human Worth. The quality of their releases is exceptional, and they’re also thoroughly decent guys. And then there’s the charity aspect. It’s not virtue signalling to make it label standard to donate a proportion of proceeds of every album to a nominated charity. It’s simply illustrative of the name being a mission statement.

They’re already responsible for two of my favourite albums of the year, and both of those bands are featured on this colossal eight-act lineup for a ridiculously cheap £8, at one of Leeds’ finest venues. Wharf Chambers always delivers killer sound at high volume, and it’s also a welcoming, accommodating ,safe space for all, with an atmosphere which feels accommodating and safe.

There have been some last-minute lineup and sequencing changes, partly because Grub Nap aren’t able to play, and have been subbed with a different Steve Myles band in the form of #FAxFO, and, as an unknown quantity and no label release, they’re first up. With his arm in a sling, it’s obvious why Steve isn’t drumming, and in his capacity of vocalist fronting this heavy dirty thrash collective, despite the physical encumbrance, he still charges around man possessed. His vocals roar against a beastly backdrop of churning noise, underpinned by a six-string bass. It’s barely half four in the afternoon and already we’ve been subjected to a monster noise assault.

Belk are next up, and they just get nastier and gnarlier. It seems that finally, they’ve got a fair bit tighter, too. Their set consists primary of feedback and overloading guitars, gut churning bass, and distorted vocals. The set starts at the sludgy pace of early Swans before hitting brutal grind. The vocals are unique, flicking form a high hair rock squawk to a nasty grindy guttural growl midway through a single line: it’s like listening to Judas Priest and early Pitch Shifter at the same time.

I frothed about the Friend album a bit back, and have also been extremely excited about the members’ various other projects, of which there are many, having even shared a bill with Lump Hammer, featuring vocalist James Watts and guitarist Tim Croft. It’s fair to say this is a band made up of lovely people. Tim’s running his guitar through both bass and guitar rigs and it sounds absolutely fucking immense. And they’re a joy to watch, because this is a band which portray distinct and very different individual personalities – Skylar brings a lot of energy and is quite a flamboyant drummer, while in contrast, Croft is stooped, humble, and Watts, in his onstage form at least, is rabid, and his energy level suggests he had a particularly satisfying poo beforehand. His vocals range from a cavernous vocal drone like Gregorian chants, guttural chthonic growls and raging demonic screams, and at the end of the set, it’s all pitched around thunderous drone guitar which draws the set to an eye-popping and tempestuous climax.

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Friend

AL Lacey’s set of piano-led neoclassical works with soft yet moving vocals provided a well-placed change of tone and tempo. No earplugs are needed here: the graceful sound is clear and the experience is beautiful and life affirming. Alice’s voice has a folky quality and the performance is understated but hypnotic, and the room is quiet. And this is the measure of the event, and exemplified precisely why this is the perfect gig: everyone is just really nice and respectful towards the artists and one another. People who clearly have an ear for the most brutal noise are broad-minded enough to appreciate the most exquisitely delicate music, and to shut the fuck up and listen when the volume level drops. Yes, you really could have heard a pin drop. Given just how truly awful and apocalyptic and hate-filled the world is right now, it’s hard to fully articulate the heart-filling joy of standing in a room where, just for a short time, all of it is placed on pause, and there is escape. It’s a magical and quite moving experience.

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AL Lacey

It’s around this point that it also registers just how eclectic the Human Worth roster is. None of the noisy bands really sound alike, and if further proof were needed, we get The Eurosuite next. I dug their last album, but have to admit it’s not one which has particularly stuck with me. But witnessing them live gives me reason to review things. Jarring, jerky, their sound is dominated by processed vocals. The overall experience is of a band which is twitchy, frenzied, and incredibly tight.

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The Eurosuite

Modern Technology’s Conditions of Worth is one of my two top albums released on this label this year. It’s slow, it’s heavy, it’s oppressive and yet has space. And it seems that live, too, the pair are at the top of their game. I’ve seen Modern Technology a few times now, and they’ve never disappointed in terms of performance or volume, but this is something else. They look just so regular, too: Chris Clarke sports what I can best describe as a corporate haircut and the guys looks like the biggest straights. In contrast, they define the anticorporate spirit. Clarke’s gritty baritone vocals ring out bleak observations to harrowing effect, while he grinds the most body-smashing bass. It’s like being run over by a bulldozer. The combination of a Nonchalant delivery, vitriol and punishing volume and mega sonic density is devastating. ‘The Space Between’ stands out in the set just as it does on the album as being particularly stark and brutal. They take things down for a quieter spell mid-set…and then return harder, harsher, and stronger. Teeth bared, Owen looks murderous behind the kit. It’s a truly killer set on every level.

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Modern Technology

Tonight is also notable as the album launch event for Leeds’ own Beige Palace, whose Making Sounds for Andy was released on Friday. I effused substantially over the both the band and the album in my review just the other day, and everything I wrote remains true here – only with the added bonus of some new, unreleased songs. They open with ‘Not Waving’ from the new album, but ikt seems that the next album is already in progress, and in the fashion of The Fall, Beige Palace are so forward-facing that they will launch their new album by playing a slab of the next one. It’s fucking brilliant, as is the between-song banter, which is hilarious as they trade insults and nudges and bat self-effacing comments about all over. There’s nothing contrived about any of it: what you get is a band consisting of three mates doing onstage the same as they do in rehearsals, in the studio, down the pub. It’s human, it’s real, and it’s fun. There are false starts and fuck-ups, and it’s all part of the enjoyment of an entertaining set.

Torpor are worthy headliners, and they’re every bit as immense live as they are recorded, and as showcased on their latest album, Abscission. It one of the most punishingly heavy albums I’ve heard in a while, but at the same time, it’s beautiful and redemptive. This translates to their live sound, too, which is defined by soaring shoegaze beauty and crushing weight. Apart from the metal drummer, they look positively straight. It’s a real contrast with the heavy beyond heavy noise and subterranean vocals. My notes peter out here as I’m blasted away on a tidal wave of megalithic guitars, big and bold enough to flatten trees.

There wasn’t a weak band on the bill or a single twat in the venue (however much I jibe my mates). If proof were needed of Human Worth’s capacity as curators, this is it. The world might be descending into aa tsunami of shit right now, but at least we know there are at least some good guys on the planet.

Human Worth – 13th October 2023

Christopher Nosnibor

From the moment Modern Technology blasted in with their eponymous debut EP, simultaneously launching the Human Worth label, it was clear that they were special. The duo made the most fucking incredible, low-slung, dense mean-ass noise going. The lyrics were social, political, and sharp, paired down to stark one-line declarations dissecting with absolute precision the fucked-up situation in which we find ourselves. And with a percentage of proceeds of every Human Worth release going to charity, they’ve put their money where their mouth is. It’s not done in some crass, virtue-signalling way: this is their model, and they just get on and do it. And through Human Worth they’ve released some – no, many – absolutely incredible records, rapidly establishing HW as purveyors of quality product with a keen ear for quality noise. In an increasingly fragmented and challenging musical market, the trick for any label is to find a niche and excel within it. And that’s precisely what these guys have done.

And all the while, as a band, Modern Technology just get better and better. Any concerns that they had said all they had to say following the EP and debut album Service Provider (as if there ever were any!) are allayed with the arrival of Conditions of Worth.

Lead single ‘Dead Air’ opens it up with dense, grinding anguish. Chris Clarke’s bass and vocals seem to have got heavier. Then again, so does Owen Gildersleeve’s drumming. But it’s more than just brutal abrasion. In the mid-track breakdown, things go clean and the tension in that picked bass note is enough to spasm the muscles and clench the brain. It’s brutal start to a brutal album.

‘Lurid Machines’ begins in a squall of feedback and wracked, anguished vocals, and it’s harrowing, the sound of pain. The lyrics are comparatively abstract, and all the more powerful for it. Written out in all block caps, they’re in your face but wide open to interpretation and elicit the conjuring of mental images:

WHY ARE THEY SO ALONE?

THE LIES THEY ALL SHARE

LET GO

INSIDE NOTHING GLOWS

BENEATH A SHADOWED PHONE

The drums and bass crawl in and grind out a low, slow dirge, Clarke’s vocals are down in the mix and you feel yourself being dragged into a chasm of darkness.

These are harrowing times, and if the pandemic seemed like a living nightmare, it seems it was only the preface. The ‘new normal’ is not the utopia some commentators suggested it may be. For a moment, it looked as though we would achieve the golden goal of the work/life balance, that we may abandon the commute and save hours a week for ourselves and slash our carbon emissions in the process. But no. Fuck that. Get back to the office, tough shit that fuel prices are rocketing and bollocks to the anxiety you developed in lockdown and bollocks to the environment because power trumps everything. Government power, corporate power, media power… we are all fucked and have no hope of breaking this. And this is the backdrop to Conditions of Worth.

They pick up the pace and start ‘Salvation’ with an uncharacteristically uptempo stoner rock vibe, but around the midpoint they flip things, slowing the pace and opening up towering cathedrals of sound as a backdrop to painting a stark depiction of life on earth.

WIDESPREAD

FAMINE

WIDESPREAD

CONFLICT

WIDESPREAD

PANIC

WIDESPREAD

SHADOW

The song ends with just a spare, fragile but earthy bass that calls to mind Neurosis and Kowloon walled City. It’s this loamy, organic texture which defines the altogether more minimal ‘The Space Between’, the first of the album’s two longer pieces, with the second being the ten-minute title track. It’s here that their evolution is perhaps most evident, as they stretch the parameters of their compositions to forge such megalithic works and really push the limits of their two-piece arrangement. In contrast, there’s the super-concise ‘Fully Detached’, , and the last track, ‘ Believieer’, which are absolute hardcore ragers, clocking in with short running times, the former just making a minute and fourteen seconds. And the variety on display here only adds to the album’s impact. While each track hits hard, the overall impact is obliterating.

They crank up the volume and the shades of distortion in the explosive choruses of ‘Lane Control’ – because you can never have too many effects when it comes to bass played like guitar and blasting screaming noise to articulate feelings, and as for the title track… it’s an absolute beast, with heavy hints of latter-day Killing Joke in the mix as they flay mercilessly at a pulverising riff. The noise builds and the vocals sink beneath it all and you’re left feeling dazed.

But more than that, there’s something about the production on Conditions of Worth that’s deeply affecting. There’s a skull-crushing sonic density, but also simultaneously, remarkable separation and sonic clarity. These elements only make it his harder.

Conditions of Worth is more than just heavy. It leaves you feeling hollowed out, drained, weak. This is life, and this album is the perfect articulation.

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Human Worth are stoked to present the second single from ferocious noise rock duo Modern Technology’s new full-length Conditions of Worth.

Set against a stark environment, the video, directed by the band’s Chris Clarke, explores the song’s themes of environmental degradation and our exploitation of the earth, as a direct comparison to a contaminated social conscious – largely choosing self perseveration and greed over collective progress. The video’s footage of natural and man-made disasters represent a mankind so poisoned, that we are merely fanning the flames at this point. A sense of absolution is among us, and it’s exactly what we deserve – we are all Icarus, and we were all warned.

Chris Clarke says of the video “Amongst all the tracks on the album, I have a very deep connection to this one. Working on the visual articulation of this track was a chance to pull on another emotive lever, and capture the full sentiment of this song. And one that I hope resonates with others.”

Watch the video here:

‘Salvation’ is the second single from Modern Technology’s new record Conditions of Worth, which is now available to pre-order as a limited heavyweight 180g vinyl, with 10% of all proceeds donated to charity Choose Love.

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‘Dead Air’ is the lead single from ferocious noise rock duo Modern Technology’s new full-length Conditions of Worth.

‘Dead Air’ kicks into life with a dense smog-like atmosphere, engulfing the listener in a battering of hard-hitting drums, fuzzed out bass riffs and gruff, acidic yelling. The song’s chorus “IS THIS HOW THE WORLD ENDS!?” becomes a cautionary mantra as the duo reminisce about good times gone, trudging on through a world that has become increasingly scarier, more dangerous, inhospitable and absurd. Dead Air is a sonic beatdown forged from chaos, restlessness and hostility concerning our impending shared future. The goal for the Dead Air music video was simple – to capture the rawness and visceral live energy of Modern Technology’s celebrated live performances.

Shot in exquisite black and white, director Chris Purdie favours simplicity and authenticity, stripping everything back and placing the duo and their live gear into a proverbial blank space, captured in minimal unbroken takes. Even devoid of an audience feeding back their energy, the heavy pair showcase the sweat, fury and unyielding power that makes their exhilarating shows so compelling. With this song and much of the album being written and demoed during the pandemic, the band’s on screen solitude echoes the conditions in which the album was conceived. The visible anguish on the faces of band members Chris Clarke and Owen Gildersleeve mirror their shared concerns about social unrest, austerity, the climate crisis, and the feelings of fear, hopelessness and anger that came from such turbulent times – the very themes that make up Conditions Of Worth.

Director Chris Purdie, who has previously worked on seminal videos for the likes of Oxbow and AVSA, says of this project “I knew from the first time I heard Modern Technology that I wanted to work with them on a video like this. Visually I felt we shared similar aesthetics, so I pitched to them the idea of a RIFF.Underground-style performance video, minus the trappings of the live environment. When the band explained the meaning behind the song to me, it became clear that we were all on the same page so the visual design came together quickly. Having that extra freedom to explore meant we could really go to town with extreme camera angles, fog, and especially light placement.”

Watch the video here:

Human Worth – 17th March 2023

Christopher Nosnibor

For context, I shall quote from the notes which accompany this release: ‘Old Mayor are Adam Kammerling and Owen Gildersleeve (Modern Technology / Human Worth). They were most active between 2005 – 2009 sharing bills with the likes of Boris, Russian Circles, Heirs, A Storm of Light, Orange Goblin and ASVA. ‘Shelter Ceremony Collapse’ was recorded during a stint in New York in the winter of 2008, where the duo laid down this beastly three track, recorded by Chris Pierce at Technical Ecstasy Studio in New Brunswick. But the recording never saw the light of day, with the duo parting ways soon after.

‘Fifteen years later, on hearing the news that legendary Brighton promoters Tatty Seaside Town, who’d given the band their first shows back in the early years, were calling it a day and putting on a final weekender the duo felt it was the right time to finally come back together. To celebrate they unearthed this EP.’

They certainly achieved a considerable amount during their time active, but left a scant record of it in the form of a critically-lauded eponymous five-track EP, which makes the immensely-belated arrival of this archival recording all the more welcome, and for those unfamiliar with them the first time around (myself included), Shelter Ceremony Collapse provides an outstanding introduction.

There’s an adage about how you treat people when you’re on the way up, and this release and the circumstances surrounding it are very much characteristic of Owen and Human Worth: not only reconvening Old Mayor for a farewell concert, but releasing the EP with a portion of proceeds going to charity speaks for the nature of the people and the operation.

As for the EP itself… While the title has a ring to it as a phrase, while conjuring mental images of crumbling edifices and societal disarray and something vaguely post-apocalyptic (or perhaps I simply have a vivid imagination which steers oof its own accord toward the bleaker, darker prospects), it’s also the titles of the EP’s three songs in the order they appear.

That said ‘Shelter’ is so heavy it almost brings about its own collapse inside the first two of its monstrous six minutes. It’s a slow, dirgy tune that begins delicately with clean, picked guitar, building a misty atmosphere of mist and loam, the resonant timbres of the strings rich and earthy and redolent of Neurosis – and then the distortion and drums pound in, hard and heavy and hit like a tidal wave crashing with full force against the abdomen and knocking the air from the lungs.

Kammerling’s screaming vocals are largely buried beneath the sludgy landslide; he sounds possessed, but is barely audible for the downtuned sludge, and Owen’ hard-hitting drums cut through with thunderous force.

‘Ceremony’ is but an instrumental interlude, a cacophony of shrieks and wails. It may only be a couple of minutes long, but the sounds of tortured souls leave you feeling unsettled and uncomfortable, which is either a bad state or the ideal state to receive the shuddering blast of the crushing ‘Collapse’. It’s properly heavy, snail-paced doom, and it’s potent, powerful stuff.

It would be wonderful to think that the one-off reunion wasn’t a one-off, and that it might spur more performances and perhaps even more new material – but they’ve already spoiled us, and Shelter Ceremony Collapse is the perfect release to expand and confirm their place in the annals.

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Human Worth – 7th October 2022

Christopher Nosnibor

Since the launch of the Human Worth label, initially as an outlet for releases by Modern Technology, we’ve witnessed the label grow – although never beyond its means and never beyond its principles. Each release sees a portion of the proceeds donated to a nominated charitable cause, and it’s so heartening to see a label and its artists use their platform for social good. With this latest release, a 7” EP from Leeds makers of noise BELK, 10% of all proceeds are being donated to Action Bladder Cancer UK, who work to support patients, raise awareness, improve early diagnosis and outcomes, and support research into bladder cancer.

But let’s never underestimate the social good of music with meaning – and by good, I mean sincere and visceral. Anyone who has ever stood in a room being bludgeoned by a full-blooded sonic attack will likely appreciate the incredible release of the experience, and the sense of community it entails. It’s not easy to articulate the way in which something that’s ultimately private, internal, is heightened by the presence of strangers immersed in that same experience, in their own personal way.

In congruence with the rise of Human Worth, we’re also seeing a satisfying upward arc for BELK, who unquestionably deserve the exposure and distribution, and one suspects that being limited to just 100 hand-numbered vinyl copies, the vinyl release of this is likely to be a future rarity.

This 7” EP packs five tracks into mere minutes. ‘Warm Water’, unveiled as a taster for advance orders on September’s Bandcamp Friday, is a minute and eighteen seconds long. It’s fast, and it’s furious – a focused channelling of fury, no less, distilled to 100% proof, and there’s no holding back on this attack.

There are a couple of additional demo tracks, in the form of ‘Net’ and ‘Question of Stress’ from their 2022 promo as downloads.

It’s all pretty raw, and ‘studio’ doesn’t mean much more polish than ‘demo’, and that’s exactly as it should be BELK trade in proper dirty noise, the likes of which Earache specialised in in the eighties and early 90s, before they went soft and became a rock and blues label, releasing stuff by the likes of Rival Sons. Human Worth have snatched the noise baton in a firm grip, though, and the quality of their releases extends to the artefact as well as the art.

‘Net’ is a stuttering slugfest reminiscent of Fudge Tunnel, only with harsher, higher-pitched squawkier vocals that are more conventionally hardcore, and it all stacks up for one killer release that delivers a ferocious slap round the chops.

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Human Worth – 7th August 2020

Tough times for bands, venues, and all things music in general is proving to be a good time for the compilation, particularly the fundraiser. And while many individuals are struggling to cover bills due to lack of work and reduced income, many gig-goers and pub dwellers are finding they’ve got some spare cash going. It also so happens that there are plenty of albums being released to support the causes their enforced absence means are struggling.

Human Worth, as the name suggests, is more about the people than the spaces, and if mental health and poverty were major issues before all of this shit went down, it’s even more vital they’re supported, and the proceeds from this latest release are going to Harmless, a charity that supports metal health, and to assist in the prevention of self-harm and suicide.

The fact that more than half the acts on this release are ones we’ve covered or are otherwise on the Aural Aggro radar is a strong indicator of the style and hopefully the quality of this release. Like its predecessor, Human Worth Vol II is a showcase of premium-grade noisy stuff from across the spectrum.

AJA crash in with a mix of bewildering noise and eerie ethereality before Klämp bring some brutal lo-fi grunge noise. Snarly vocals half-buried amidst a barrage of muffled drums, gnarly bass and space-rock synths It’s challenging, but equally, it’s exciting in its raw viscerality.

Blóm do riot-grrl punk but at a thousand miles an hour, with a hefty dash of black metal / hardcore in the mix, and the resultant blast of noise that is ‘Meat’ is hefty. Meanwhile, masters of heavily percussion-led free jazz racket, Sly and The Family Drone, really churn the guts with ‘Shrieking Grief’, lifted from the new album Walk it Dry. Even on a 20-track compilation of challenging, headfucking din, they manage to stand out, in the best possible way.

Modern Technology’s ‘Gate Crasher’, taken from their upcoming debut full-length is an exercise in intense and claustrophobic tension-filled angst, a dense, roaring bass and pummelling percussion all but burying the vocals. And it’s the low-slung, gritty bass that dominates the dingy grind of Mummise Guns’ ‘Glitter Balls’, before We Wild Blood’s ‘Eat Your Tail’ brings a sandstorm of wild shoegaze / psychedelia with a darker than dark hue. Bismuth and Vile Creature collaborate to create a low-end assault that sounds like the burning pits of hell and make me seriously consider heading to the bog before I shit myself. Elsewhere, USA Nails’ minimal cover of ’Paranoid’ is a hybrid of Big Black and Suicide, but with a dash of Cabaret Voltaire, and its primitivism is compelling.

So how is this kind of sonic torture appropriate for raising awareness of and funds for mental health charities? How can a barrage of noise be a good thing? Well, some of us find comfort in this kind of racket. It’s all about the immersion, all about the catharsis. You can totally bury yourself in this kind of stuff, and feel the pain and anguish being purged. There’s something cleansing about a howling tempest that envelops you and transports you to another place that’s difficult to communicate. It’s intense, and often quite personal, and some distance beyond words. There’s often a real sense of community around the more fringe scenes, and Human Worth is very much a community of artists pulling together to care for one another and not just like-minded individuals, but anyone.

There is joy in the fact that there’s some seriously heavy shit to be found on this album’s twenty tracks, and none of its especially friendly: Lovely Wife, as you’d probably expect given their previous output, seem keen to push the brown. The snarling demonism of ‘My Cup Overfloweth’ sounds particularly close to dredging through the bowels of hell by raging demons playing improv renditions of Hawkwind songs, and it’s a murky, gut-churning blast.

There isn’t a weak – or gentle – track to be found in this collection, but Ballpeen’s ‘Hate Fantasies’ – here in demo form – Working Men’s Club (not the shit indie one) are standouts in a field of standouts.

Sometimes, there’s a sense of obligation to purchase charity compilations because there’s a decent track or two, and because it’s for a good cause, but Human Worth have again curated an album that’s just that unbelievably good you want to buy ten copies.

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Modern Technology have unveiled a video for the second single to be released from their upcoming debut long player, Service provider. Featuring visuals every bit as stark and impactful as the bleak ribcage-rattling bass-driven racket of the song, ‘Blackwall Approach’, it’s a belter. Watch it here:

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Human Worth – 25th August 2020

Christopher Nosnibor

Modern Technology crashed the scene hard with their eponymous debut EP in January of 2019. A devastating detonation of thunderous post-punk nihilism that dismantled consumer culture with half a dozen hard-hitting sonic blasts, it was focused and perfectly formed. It also very much captured the zeitgeist, while plunging sonic depths appropriate to the bleakness of mass consumerism and a culture that favours conformity and the erosion of individuality.

The duo – bassist / vocalist Chris Clarke and drummer Owen Gildersleeve gigged hard for a full year off the back of the EP, proving themselves to be a truly formidable live act: with a clear grasp of dynamics, intensity, and the importance of volume, they not only won a proper grass-roots fanbase, but also used their art for social good, donating proceeds from their Human Worth events and the profits from said EP to a selection of charities, notably Mind, Shelter, and The Trussell Trust.

Service Provider finds the duo even more aflame with fury and frustration at contemporary society, and although they seemed pretty well-honed on their first outing, they’ve taken things up another level or three here. The formula – such as it is – is unchanged, with the compositions centred around repetitive, cyclical grooves, pulverizing percussion and anguished vocals swamped in reverb to forge dense capsules of nihilism. The artwork, similarly, consolidates their identity, and the stark monochrome design with its dissolving text is a perfect summary of the stark images of social decay the band depict in their songs. But now, they’ve triple-distilled their ire, and the mammoth production only enhances the effect.

The first of the eight songs, ‘Therapy’ starts sparse, just Clarke’s brooding baritone voice and a primitive thudding drum beat. Those opening bars contain pure anguish, his voice cracked and distorted. Then, in a sharp squeal of feedback, the bass tears in like a whole troop of tanks crashing in, their caterpillar treads tearing at the earth, before locking into a single grinding note that booms out, each simultaneous strike of drum and bass like an explosion. Part Unsane, part Swans, it’s a heavy-hitter, and sets the tone and weight from the outset.

The bass buzzes and rumbles, the drums are understated, thumping away an insistent slow build, and it’s mostly just a scream of feedback like a jet engine that accompanies Chris’ vocal, an edge of distortion on the epic reverb, while he hollers, half-buried in the mix on ‘Blackwall Approach’. According to Wikipedia, ‘The northbound Blackwall Tunnel is a traffic bottleneck with tailbacks. A TfL study in 2009 revealed that the 1.1-mile (1.7 km) approach to the northbound tunnel took around 19 minutes in rush hour traffic, or a delay of approximately 11 minutes per kilometre.’ As such, it makes sense, the band casting a bleak eye over miles of excess traffic and literally tonnes of CO2 emissions. Because this is how we will die, choking the planet and ourselves in our question for exponential growth. And if you think ‘The Great Pause’ will change anything, then while I applaud your optimism, you are completely deluded: lockdown isn’t even over and there are mile-long queues of traffic to access beaches and beauty spots.

‘All is Forgiven’ is an epic grunger, coming on like an outtake demo for Nirvana’s Bleach played at half speed, with Owen’s powerhouse drumming driving thunderously. It’s raw and dingy and hits with serious velocity. The riff on ‘Gate Crasher’ is cyclical, repetitive, gut-churning, ribcage rattling, an intensely physical experience, which captures the force of the band’s live performances perfectly.

Describing a riff as ‘crushing’ may be a cliché, but fuck it: ‘Twitcher’ is a monolithic doom-weight crusher of a beast. A low-slow stealth verse yields to a thick distortion-ripping chorus that is absolutely punishing.

‘Terra Firma’, the album’s shortest song at a mere two-and-a-half-minutes, finds the band explore their more experimental side in a bleepy intro that gives way to a devastating bass blast paired with a squall of treble that calls to mind early Head of David, and serves as an into to the closer, ‘Life Like’, into which it segues. It begins with a spoken-word narrative, a rolling drum and bass almost serene as Clarke hovers around a calm monotone. Early crescendo threats subside and contribute to a simmering tension. But around the four-minute mark the build really begins in earnest, the bass thickening, swelling, and emerging in a tempestuous burst for an elongated outro that takes it to near the eight-minute point.

As a social commentary, Service Provider gets right to the rotten core of capitalist exploitation, and the way it pitches everyone as competition. The upper echelons are competing for supremacy: the majority are competing for scraps and for survival as the divide grows wider. And yet the irony is that the supremacy at the top is predicated on the rest purchasing whatever they’re selling, and all too often it’s shit they don’t need and can’t afford but that’s somehow become essential to contemporary living.

If anyone believes a world emerging from lockdown after the first wave of Covid-19 will be kinder, more accommodating, more humane, the early signs are that they’re sadly mistaken, as businesses slash employees and push even harder to return profits in the wake of a global financial slump.

We’re all fucked, and Service Provider sells it out loud – very loud – and clear, in stark, brutal terms. It’s a pretty punishing set, and what’s impressive is that they sustain the bludgeoning impact throughout, making for an absolute monster of an album. It’s hard to fault service like this.

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CATTLE and Territorial Gobbing are joined at CHUNK in Leeds by Modern Technology (London), Lump Hammer (Newcastle) and …(something) ruined for a night of noise in aid of Mind and Shelter.

We’re proud to be involved in promoting the event.

Door at at 7pm. It’s £6 OTD and BYOB. Be there: it’s going to be a belter.

Event details here.

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