Employing a cauldron of hostile noise rock soaked in sonic causticity, Wild is a proposition which simply lights up ears and passions as it numbs and abuses the senses. The new album from French band Pord, the release is an exhilarating and at times gorgeous violation of sonic ingenuity which inspires a deep hunger for more. Their sound is not going to be for everyone but if the likes of Keelhaul, Melt Banana, or Craw tick all the right boxes then Wild is a must investigation.
Formed in 2001, Pord hail from Lozère and through line-up changes evolved with a raw and imposing sound which was not the initial intention of the band on its emergence according to the new album’s press release. Thankfully the band has taken, whether organically or intentionally, a corrosive and raucous route with their sound which has increasingly garnered potent attention and following. Their well-received debut album Valparaiso three years ago drew acclaim towards the trio yet it is easy to feel that Wild will brew a much more vocal and aggressive attention once its uncompromising claws dig in.
Recorded with Serge Morattel (Knut, Tantrum, Ventura, Basement) at Rec Studio in Geneva and released via Solar Flare Records, the album instantly lights up ears and thoughts with Staring Into Space. The first thing igniting the passions is the bass, its presence from the first second offering more primal testosterone than a pair of rutting stags and never losing its carnivorous snarl and beauty across the whole release. Its bestial predation and animal magnetism is soon joined by scythes of guitar, their sonic swipes no less attractive and spiteful on the senses. Drums as swiftly add their antagonistic punches whilst vocal squalls roar with an element of restraint within the storming mix. It is a riveting mix, the repetitive bass lures irresistible whilst the guitar casts scorched tendrils of enterprise which almost crawl in the songs slower sludgier moments and charge with a melodic tailwind when the song opens up a cauldron of energy.
The song is a tremendous start, hooks and grooves lethally delicious, and swiftly matched by I’m Swimming Home. The second song is like a mix of KEN Mode and the now demised Kabul Golf Club, its caustic melodies and abrasing textures simultaneously threatening and seductive, not forgetting ridiculously addictive. Vocals are submerged in the tempest of sound but still a potent protagonist in the contagion of noise and bullying enterprise. As with most of the tracks, there is a swagger and array of barbed creative hooks which are virulent in their persuasion to slightly temper and often accentuate the hostile tenacity. It is formidable romance of noise which is contrasted impressively by My Bloody Galantine. Whereas the previous song has an endearing side, the third track is a predator of the psyche, crawling over the senses with a sinister gait and intimidating ferocity honed into a primal stalking loaded with sludge thick intensity. It is a carnal beast of a track and no less compelling than it’s, shall we say ‘lighter’ companions on the album.
The short fury of Laguiole Bull’s Balls is outstanding. It just exceeds a minute and digs up old school hostility to its sonic furnace and an ever debilitating bass enticing which recalls early Killing Joke in many ways. The devastating statement is followed by the scarring qualities of What Are Tuesdays For? which from a menacing and ear splitting entrance, unleashes a rhythmic agitation and sonic maelstrom which blisters every surface it touches whilst sparking another epidemic of seductive infectiousness. The track has a real swing to its bones as it launches its own insatiable and senses scorching web of sound and ultimately leaving ears blissfully ringing by the time of its departure.
Pools’n’Chicks is another sparking thoughts of earlier eras. Its raging intent and creative wall of sonic temptation proceeds to evolve through a post punk like cold snap and predation before developing a rhythmic addictiveness and discord driven expanse of noise aligned to a raw aggravation. It is an incitement which reminds of The Fire Engines and The Fall as it uncages its mouth-watering tide of sound, living up to the album title whilst sculpting its own addiction forging glory.
The album ends with On The Couch, a final and individual furnace of sonic oppression and rhythmic ferocity which inescapably thrills as it bludgeons ears, body and. soul. It is a last exhausting vindictive suasion, an eleven minute plus violent, corrosive dance within a haunting and menacing atmosphere, and quite brilliant.
As mentioned Wild may not be for all but with a body and soul which lives up to its name, it is one of the physically unhealthy and emotionally invigorating triumphs of2014.
Wild is available via Solar Flare Records now @ http://music.solarflarerds.com/album/wild
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