Posts Tagged ‘Skeletal Family’

28th November 2024

Christopher Nosnibor

I’ve been bigging up The Bricks for some time now, and I would count myself as a fan from the moment they snared me with their early doors set in January 2022 opening for The Kut and Healthy Junkies.

They’ve always been pretty swift at getting their material recorded, with a four-track demo laid down in the summer of 2021 containing the songs that provided the basis for their early sets. Since then, while ‘Picket Fence’ has largely remained a well-deserved feature of the set, they’ve been busy with new material, with the five-track Reverse Alchemy EP landing in February 2023, and now, with six new cuts, Modern Mirror is their most expansive, and perhaps definitive, statement yet.

It’s clear from their live shows that there’s a musical chemistry between the four of them, but equally, the tightness they demonstrate is the kind that comes from disciplined rehearsal. The fact that they got these six tracks done – even though they are succinct, with only ‘Snake’ exceeding three minutes – in two days is a fair indication of their proficiency. This is particularly important for a band who are strong live, because the challenge is capturing the essence, and the energy of the live sound in the studio. So many solid live acts make a hash of things in the studio, going either one of two ways – either they’ll polish the songs to within an inch of their lives, slicken things off with production to the point that they sound flat and lifeless, or they’ll simply fail to convey the live experience with rushed, muddy recordings that fail to do justice.

Here, the production is just right for the band: with a sound that’s from the heart of the gothier end of late punk – think early Siouxie, Skeletal Family, but also with more overtly punk leanings at times – theirs is the sound of 1979-81, and where so many contemporary exponents go wrong is applying 21st century production values in the studio. So here, we have songs which are fiery, choppy, edgy, and the recordings convey the energy and the raw dynamism, but without sounding rough.

The title track is a solid opener, with an intro that builds, and builds, and builds, then everything bursts into life, a chunky bass groove bursting with nifty runs sits tightly with the uncomplicated drumming and come together to provide a solid backdrop to Gemma’s commanding, full-lunged vocals. ‘What’s real? Does it matter?’ she roars.

It’s another snaking bassline swerving around thundering drums which provides the backbone of ‘A Lie’, where the guitars switch from choppy stutters to full-on thrashabout and it’s all over in under two minutes, a powerful short, sharp shock.

‘Snake’ has become a feature of the set as the slower mid-set breather, and it presents something of a more soulful side – as well as the opportunity for a guitar solo. It feels as if they’ve made the most of the slower tempo to explore more broadly, and it works well. It’s also catchy – in that the chorus grabs you by the balls and squeezes, but not too hard.

There’s almost a psychobilly feel to the full-throttle ‘Contraption’, with its sneering punky putdown, ‘Nice try, you’re boring / Nice try, I’m yawning’.

Lyrically, The Bricks always achieve more with less, with snappy, declarative couplets consisting of the fewest words possible and uncomplicated but effective rhymes. And so it is that the EP closes with ‘Meantime’, another songs that’s well-established and road-tested. ‘Trickle trickle… you’re so fickle’ may well not be TS Elliot or Milton, but it’s all in the delivery, and to hear Gemma belting out the dismissive flick of ‘fickle! FOOL!’ with her immensely commanding voice is enough to wither even the most cocksure and arrogant of bastards. With Guy’s magnificent weaving guitar-line and rock-solid rhythm section, it’s a powerful finale.

The Bricks have always been great, but they’ve never sounded more solid, or more confident than here.

AA

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Wise Queen Records / Shapta – 4th September 2020

Christopher Nosnibor

Abrasive Trees may be the solo project of Scottish-born guitarist and singer Matthew Rochford, and this may be a debut release, but already the project has acquired a roll-call of contributors on a par with Pigface or The Damned. Amongst these are Peter Yates (Fields of The Nephilim), Mark Beazley (Rothko/Band of Holy Joy), Steven Hill (Evi Vine), and Jo-Beth Young (Talitha Rise/RISE/Yates & Young).

The sum of this three-tracker bears little obvious relation to its parts, in the best possible way: there’s no sense of baggage or of any of the contributors striving to define the sound with their various stylistic signatures, and what’s more, none of the compositions sound remotely alike, showcasing a creative openness and willingness to experiment and embrace different forms.

Emerging from a thick atmospheric mist, ‘Bound for an Infinite Sea’ has gothic overtones, with picked guitars echoing out over a deep, rumbling bass. With hints of early Cure, Skeletal Family and Salvation, it broods through shadowy shapes in a fashion that’s perfectly evocative of the early 80s post-punk sound, but it’s also spun with an ethereality that owes as much to the 4AD roster and 90s shoegaze. Rochford’s voice sounds dislocated, disembodied, as it floats into the air, lost, alone. The production is hazy, a vagueness hangs over the notes, with the instruments blurring together as the percussion lingers hesitantly in the background.

Beginning with hints of expansive post-rock, there’s almost a folky feel to the delicate instrumental ‘Brother Saint’, which washes into the more abstract, experimental semi-ambience of ‘Replenishing Water (Stripped)’.

Uncertainty, trepidation, and a certain sense of otherness permeate this set, and if Abrasive Trees’ identity and direction seems unclear at its conclusion, then it’s all to the good, leaving open all avenues and possibilities for exploration.

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Hangman Ho Records – 14th March 2019

Christopher Nosnibor

Every 18 months or so, I get contact from Rick Senley. This has been happening for a good few years now. I like him, and I like his work. There’s a pattern of sorts. He seemingly hibernates for a while, then emerges with a brace of albums, one each from his main projects, Music for Voyeurs and I Am A Man With A St Tropez Tan. Both different sides of the same coin, they tend to be contrasting but complimentary.

So this latest arrives came as something of a surprise: not an album but a single, and representing a new project. Made in Minks sees Senley return to the fold of a band-orientated project after many years operating in a solo capacity, and the international quintet, which initially coalesced in 2014, they’ve been honing their sound before declaring that ‘now is the time’.

Citing influences from Pixies to The Cure, Kate Bush, Black Sabbath and Aztec Camera, Made in Minsk claim to ‘sculpt a unique sound of psychedelic indie thrash folk’. If that sounds deranged, well, yes, it is.

‘Where the Truth Lies’ starts with darkly atmospheric muttering that calls to mind the Cure’s ‘Pornography’, before breaking out into a muscular riff that builds on a thunking bass throb and insistent rhythm that contains elements of The Fall but combines it with the snaking reverby bleakness of The Cure circa Faith and the fiery goth favours of Skeletal Family. It’s retro as, and it’s all the better for it: whereas so many contemporary acts play post-punk through a post-millennial filter of Interpol and Editors, MIM return to source to deliver something that feels authentic in every way, from the sentiment to the production.

Dark, stark, and angular, it’s also hypnotic and catchy, and a really strong song.

AA

Made in Minsk