aaamusic | On 13, Nov 2011

Do I really know what to do with this? Probably not. †Hymns† debut is a terse, angry concept album exploring the gaping pitfalls of faith that spans two halves, the bewildering, occasionally scary ‘Cardinal Sins’, and the quieter, more measured ‘Contrary Virtues’.

Naturally, we begin and end with choral works and organ pieces, which are torn to pieces in some ways by the sheer visceral bile that constitutes much of what this two-piece create in the interim between these moments. ‘Repent And Rebuild’ has a dark and ominous guitar riff and bleak, echoing vocals that send chills running up and down the spine in delivery and lyrics. In fact, the lyrics in the track are almost gobsmacking in how well-thought-out and natural they feel, an angry rant balanced by introspection, and backed by off-kilter lo-fi punk rock that has freakish jazz-influenced appendages hanging off it in the percussion and rhythmic lope that just shouldn’t fit the stomping angry guitars, but which gel with the chemistry found almost exclusively in two-piece outfits. This musical anarchy is ramped up and up in ‘Idyllic In Nature, Horrendous In Habit’, where polemic climbs a stack of soapboxes in terms of lyricism, and the guitar/drums interplay reach jaw-dropping levels of chaos in the near-impossible to follow breakdowns. Both band members sound like they are doubled up, as the drums are so tight and pummelling, and the guitar treble and bass so separate. ‘Lily’ too employs drumming that barely seems in the realms of human capability, combined with skittering guitars and howling, throat-shredding vocals that pitch into moments that almost hit a death-growl in terms of raw, cathartic fury.

The twisted ‘A Punch To The Temple’ is a relief sonically, with a much simpler instrumentation using a recognisable time signature, but if anything the lyrics get more and more tumultuous, with a caustic sense of anger at play. ‘Perserverence’ too, with its bleak melody played on a guitar that sounds nearly burnt-out, and hushed vocals leading into a funereal yet monstrous march is somehow a relief in that it can be recognised as humanly possible for two people to play. Twin track ‘With Patience’ leads us back into the mutant jazz-rock from earlier however, with an off-kilter guitar riff and drumming that is solid yet impossible to fully pin down as it lurches between a punk song and a demented 6/8.

‘Wicked Tongue’ offers us a last splurge of gritty, noisy bile that sounds like if Kurt Cobain’s stage-smashing habit drew tactical blueprints, as it sounds like the kind of song designed to break a few things in its performance. (People, guitars, microphones, speakers…)

To arrive at ‘Miracles’ is like switching on atheist televangelism at 5 in the morning, as earnest singer-songwriter and uplifting organ melodies, propelled by militaristic snare rolls, are given context with decidedly humanist lyrics. It’s anthemic, but at the same time has teeth in every possible way. ‘Honesty’ is even an acoustic number, a singer-songwriter moment that feels oddly conventional after the morass of insanity displayed earlier. ‘Mercy Seat’ too is an almost recognisable rock song, a slow-burning intro and tense buildup in the pre-chorus, with bassy guitar strumming and a big, stomping chorus. ‘Terms Of Endearment’ could even pass as a standard rock song if it weren’t for the explosive finale and bitter soapboxing.

A keyboard rears its head in the waltzing ‘Diligence’, allowing the eloquent lyrics and preternatural drumming to shine through in a slight lowering of volume, but the intellectual ferocity does not abate. ‘Revelations’ is even almost mournful due to its wheezing keyboard tones and sheer powerful misery in the vocals and melody that really drives home the subject of exploitation of the downtrodden. ‘Tristatia’ sums up the whole thing excellently, lurching from the previous song’s keyboard intellectualism into a abjectly terrifying roar of rage and back again before you have a chance to figure out what on earth is going on.

 

Music for the righteous? Well, †Hymns† would certainly have you think so. It is rare for such a cohesive release to make it into the world, let alone a double-album effort. If you want anything remotely inoffensive, run to the hells, but if you want an opinionated album that both musically and lyrically forces you to sit up and think carefully, in its sonic fury. Like Fugazi waging war on the Vile Imbiciles, this is by no means comfortable listening, but it is rewarding to find music that genuinely has something big and important to tell its listeners.

 

Katie H-Halinski