There is no denying we have a major soft spot here for British industrial-doomer Concrete Lung though that pleasurable weakness might be as much from the concussion from listening to thementally devouring, physically punishing sounds spawn as any lustful inclinations. There is something about its dissonance soaked invention and vitriol fuelled imagination which gets under the skin and inflames our own emotive quarrels; a connection which has never been stronger than with the project’s new album Fumes. Like its title might suggest, it is a suffocating severely invasive affair, debilitating and cancerous, and oh so irresistible.
The successor to 2014 leviathan Tolerance & Dependency, the nerve shredding Fumes sees Ed Oxime at his most sonically corrosive and emotively discordant yet but equally at his most destructively virulent to date. In their own ways, each of the seven tracks within the album stalk and hunt down the listener, devouring their light and feeding on their weaknesses but in turn sparking a cathartic release as potent as that you imagine the pair found giving birth to Fumes.
As its predecessors, Fumes does not want to be liked nor does it care the emotional waste its ruinous exploits cause but as opener The Harbinger proves, if it’s kind of raw attrition and toxic sufferance is your masochistic poison the rewards are exhilarating. It rumbles into view, like a distant portentous storm with swift sonic winds to the fore. Its cavernous air soon becomes a senses smothering cloud of mordant noise, industrial death knells clanging as the track nags and niggles its way into the psyche. Equally the vocals lay a caustic glaze on the infernal incursion, the pressure and animosity intense yet infectiously virulent.
Of course there is no respite as Spinning In The Grave prowls in straight after and it too gives no inch as it consumes the senses in sound as vocals and words unleash their antipathy. Equally though, it has its own death dealing swing, heavy rapacious grooves winding rather than swaying around ears but with a contagiousness which cannot help but infest song, vocals, and listener alike. It grinds the defences down, though admittedly a willing submission just waiting to grab the salacious manipulations on offer; they then asphyxiated by the tsunami of sonic jaundice brought by When The Blind Man Sees You. Its lumbering pestilence is equally addictive, preying on thoughts and emotions whilst seducing with its senses scarring funereal swing and though for over seven minutes it crawls over the listener, it just leaves too soon.
Dissension I is just a carnal schism uniting noise and fear in a sonic smog of dissent, softening up already wasted senses further for A Thousand Years to venomously scrutinize and erode layer by layer with its industrial acid before the wounds are further decomposed by the post punk entangled, doom spawned album title track. There is an early Killing Joke hue to the tenebrific skulk of the track’s climate and gait, its compelling echo adding to the sublimely lethal lure of a highly addictive consumption.
Ending on the starkly raw dissolution of, well everything with Dissension II, the perpetual scourge of Fumes is filthily primal, severely uncomfortable, and permanently scarring but one of the most exhilarating violations heard pretty much since Concrete Lung’s last intrusion. The band has become more creatively dangerous and sonically insightful so beware, be brave, and go enjoy.
Fumes is out now through Armalyte Industries; available @ https://concretelung.bandcamp.com/album/fumes
http://www.concretelung.com/ https://www.facebook.com/concrete.lung https://twitter.com/concrete_lung
Pete RingMaster 01/12/2017
Copyright RingMaster: MyFreeCopyright
The EP starts up with Sun Dogs, its initial atmospheric coaxing already fraught with threat and intrigue which only escalates as the track rises up with infection fuelled lures and flirtatious rhythms. As the vocals of Ged Denton spring their attitude lined invitation, synths and guitar weave an invasively catchy web as beats thump with matching contagion. At times like a raw fusion of Prong and Rabbit Junk, the song continues to impose and incite as it devours body and spirit.
Vein swiftly stirring up ears and attention with its initial sonic lure and lead into a heavy handed prowl of ravenous yet seductive enterprise amidst predatory rhythms. The first impacting move in evidence is the live drums on the song and release which replace their until now ever present drum machine. It gives the track a spite and intensity, which was never lacking in the band’s sound previously, more bite and bad blooded ferocity. Soon the prowl slips into a just as menacing stroll, beats and riffs as imposing as ever and Oxime’s vocals raw and compelling venom. As it plays with its assault and expels a horde of inescapable hooks, the track has ears ringing and psyche cowering, its black heart exuding pained expression and emotion.
ominous electro breath. An air of melancholy lays its touch into the brew especially with the introduction of the excellent vocals of Carnage, his tones clean, expressive, and throughout the album with a confrontational snarl. His appearance also sparks a more accelerated intensity bringing its intimidating presence though the track always has its rein gripped between its emotive sinews. It is an excellent starter and beckoning for the following You’re Not Like Me to unleash its thumping heart. Big boned beats frame the start before taking a step back for the caustic but restrained electro caresses to begin their impending scarring against the again strong vocals. Eventually the guitars sculpt their venomous presence whilst rhythms set a cage of menace and impact around the at times aggressive shift of the song. The song continues the impressive start set in motion whilst offering another of its potent aspects.
shamanic chant. Roving beats soon add their menace to the sizzling slow burning heat, the gait slow and prowling. It is a worrisome encounter at this point but not threatening, that is until the intensity expels its caustic pressure and weight upon the ear, harsh vocals slowly squalling around the lumbering mountainous depths of sound. With harmonic backing chants there is still a ‘lighter’ appeal veining the muscular leviathan of energy and intent, the scowling vocal corrosiveness of Oxime working the passions and mind as potently as the pungent sounds. The track brings the industrial essences of Ministry, Godflesh and early Pitchshifter to beat upon the listener, the EP bred of the same toxicity but taking it to the darkest destructive and emotionally destroying depths possible. Continually shifting to tease and consume alternately and often simultaneously, the opener makes a mighty beginning to the rapacious and primal consummation between band and passions.