None of these are words commonly used to describe the mighty Converge. However, they are words that might be used to describe the grotesquely pleasant afternoon of "light entertainment" that I found myself choking on last weekend. It played out like an extended two-hour version of a Halifax advert, with an interval during which cream teas were served.
Listening to Converge is commonly described (by me, mostly) as likebeingpunched in the face.
And many times during that afternoon of light entertainment I found myself wanting to listen to Converge. Repeatedly, and very hard.
Just to be clear - I am talking about a band here, not the prison experiment of the same name. I mean, it was a pretty great prison experiment that had lasting implications in the way that psychological studies were carried out; but all that belongs in another blog (this week, the greatest/most traumatising prison experiment in the world ever is...)
So, Stanford Prison Experiment - the band.
First contact was a video shown on the now long defunct Noisy Mothers, a rock/metal/alternative tv show that used to air at around 3am on a Saturday some time in the mid nineties. It was eventually axed due to poor viewing figures, the schedulers at the station apparently not being keen students of cause and effect. Anyway, I forget what the song was; but the name of the band stuck in my head. And there it stayed, jostling for position with other useless facts, until a few years later when I stumbled across their entire back catalogue (all three records of it) in a second hand record shop.
They don't sound a lot like anyone else I can think of; though that probably says more about how little punk and post-hardcore I was listening to in the mid nineties than how innovative SPE were. Although having thirty minutes of a Noam Chomsky lecture as a bonus track is a fairly unique proposition...
In any case, those three records still sound pretty fucking great to me; and I'm kind of surprised that SPE didn't achieve greater recognition at the time.
Just to be clear - I am talking about a band here, not the bridge disaster of the same name. I mean, it was a pretty great bridge disaster that had lasting implications in future designs; but all that belongs in another blog (this week, the greatest bridge disaster in the world ever is...)
So, Tacoma Narrows Bridge Disaster - the band.
When I first heard these guys in 2009, they reminded me a little of You Judas - insofar as they sounded as if they liked all the grand sweeping soundscapes of post-rock, but couldn't be bothered with all the cocking about and went straight for the big riffs. Not a bad thing.
On their second record (Exegesis, released earlier this year), they sound as though they can definitely be bothered with all the cocking about; the big riffs are still present and correct, but the songs are longer, more expansive and more ambitious. In many places they sound not entirely unlike prog metal behemoths Tool. Again, not a bad thing.
future of the left were initially cobbled together from the leftover bits of Jarcrew and mclusky. Or possibly blended together from all the finest bits of Jarcrew and mclusky. It's hard to tell, I've never really given Jarcrew or mclusky much of a listen. I'll get around to it eventually.
In any case, future of the left might perhaps have been destined to join my musical to-do list behind their ancestors, but for the fine set that I drunkenly stumbled into at the All Tomorrow's Parties festival. A finer display of alternative rock and contempt for morons I have seldom seen, and cash was instantly exchanged for records.
And, as is so often the case with my perilously short attention span, I more or less forgot about them until the song The Lord Hates A Coward shuffled its way to the top of my playlist. This mostly resulted in my spending the day singing "she's got a lot of pickled onions hanging from her thighs" to myself, much to the bemusement of my work colleagues.
After a bit of a re-shuffle, future of the left are now cobbled together from the leftover/bestest bits of future of the left and other stuff - new bassist Julia played in the very excellent Million Dead, whilst new guitarist Jimmy Watkins' past is altogether more sinister and mysterious. By which I mean I couldn't find out by looking at the first Google result.
It would seem that all the swagger and bile is still very much present and correct however, if the first release from the new record "Sheena is a T-shirt Salesman" is anything to go by. The band is touring very soon - go and throw money at them so they'll keep doing this sort of thing.
