Sofy Major is a leviathan of sound and trespass which persistently erupts from a noise fuelled creative lair with releases which for us have pretty much left contemporaries in their tempest and turbulence. Three previous albums have as good as decimated the prowess and adventure of other ear rewarding encounters around at the time and with Total Dump, the French trio has done it again Their new full-length is in many ways their most accessible and flirtatious offering yet but equally their most voracious and imposing not forgetting irresistible slab of noise and hardcore infested, metal lined rock ‘n’ roll.
The successor to the outstanding Waste of 2015, which itself eclipsed the thrilling Idolize unleashed two years earlier, the Dave Curran (UNSANE, Big Business) produced Total Dump is a contagion of abusive yet flirtatious noise and bruising but virulently captivating force and imagination. It is predatory irritable rock ‘n’ roll from start to finish with an eager taste in contagious and invasive enterprise. Opening up with its title track, the album immediately reveals its bestial side, the track prowling the senses with the carnivorous claws of Mathieu Moulin’s bass locked onto the senses as his more welcoming vocals align with the raw flames and tendrils of Thomas Dantil’s guitar. It is a preying of ears and imagination which never diminishes in threat and temptation however it evolves, a trespass driven by the menacing swings of drummer Mathieu Desternes that equally escalate in infernal virulence and captivation as individual and united enterprise breeds fresh twists and sonic commination.
The compelling start is only accentuated, indeed built upon by next up Giant Car Crash; a collision with the senses which had us bouncing as much as cowering before its flirtatious and barbarous intent. Voraciously feral and inhumanly infectious, the track devoured body and passions with unquenchable hunger leading to lustful responses before Cream It uncages its rapacious crawl to trespass the senses and melodic irreverence to seduce an already greedy appetite. The kind of proposition which offers a warm welcome whilst ruining the foundations to your sanity, the glorious track is a manipulative mix of viral noise with an appetite for clamorous untamed pop.
As the ravenously viral rock punk ‘n roll throes of Strike and the post punk embracing devilry of The Jerk infested and seduced ears with unruly dexterity, Total Dump just stretched its landscape of esurient intent and fevered invention. Both tracks are as mercilessly catchy as they are unapologetically invasive, that greater accessibility to the band’s sound in full bloom just as much its acclaimed creative villainy is merciless, and traits just as thrilling within next up Shinny Happy Asshole, a venomously swinging, deviously contagious but inescapably corruptive slice of unscrupulous enterprise.
Through the slow hunt of the senses that is Franck Butthole; a cancer of sound which just ignites the imagination, and the unbroken antics of Tumor O Rama it is impossible to say attention and pleasure wavered, the total opposite in truth up against their combined sonic punk infection fuelled scourges while Kerosine Mike n turn just trapped and enslaved with ursine-esque power and intimidation whilst brewing up its own melodically toxic strain of bewitching rock ‘n’ roll.
Completed by the senses ravishing, violently bouncing exploits of Panamarama, it one the album’s most magnificent moments, and the sonically consumptive, caustically alluring tempest of The Longest Yard, there was and is no diminishing of the ardour we bred and hold for Total Dump. Without any doubt despite the glories of the past, it provides the greatest, most thrilling time with Sofy Major yet but also is set to send a shiver through the world of noise in any form as those within wonder how they can compete with its voracious triumph.
Total Dump is out now via Deadlight Records on CD and Antena/Corpse Flower on Vinyl.
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Pete RingMaster 30/01/2019
Copyright RingMaster: MyFreeCopyright
Through the likes of Garden, a primal irrepressible serenade of a treat, and The Vase with its almost carnal incitement around rapier swung beats, Slot Logic only further blossoms in sound and imagination, both tracks feral but sublimely crafted predators before the band next up delivers a cover of The Korgis’ song Everybody’s Got To Learn Sometime. Whilst embracing the original’s pop breath, Dewaere unleash their own corrosive power pop like bent alongside their never diminishing sonic causticity; unleashing an adrenaline fuelled gear never envisaged in the track originally. It is a spicing further developed within the outstanding St-Tropez In Summer which follows. There is at times a certain Eighties Matchbox B-Line Disaster meets Engerica flavouring to the band’s distinctly individual sound but a twist in the wonderful bedlam here which again also hints at a Fatima Mansions influence or coincidence.
Aidattu Tulevaisuus opens with Turbo-Mondeo, the song emerging like sonic steam from a hidden pipe; coming closer until in engulfs the senses and that swiftly enterprising bond of guitars begin weaving their captivating tapestry. It is an assault though which is a blend of mellow and forcefulness, brewing a more volatile state as vocals and harmonies entice with a raw siren-esque hue. Already the variation in flavour and texture is uncaged, the track unveiling its tempestuousness in between unpredictable serenity for a perpetually infectious trespass.
Doesn’t Feel Pain Like He Should is the first venomous treat from Loved, the track instantly lancing the senses with a sonic incision before the fierce rapier swings of drummer Shane Matthewson descend closely aligned to the ravenous grumble of Scott Hamilton’s bass. The caustic wires cast from Jesse’s guitar equally infest song and listener making a nagging cradle for the raw throated squall of his vocals all the time rhythms breeding greater virulence in their trespass. It is a glorious nagging of sound taking swipes and bites with every elevation of animosity and twist of enterprise resulting in a deliciously corrosive start to the release.
The Hammer / The Coffin follows and instantly takes its own tight grip on attention as the feral temptation of Capovilla’s bass aligns to the swinging rabidity of Valente’s beats. Vocals and guitar toxicity are soon infesting song and listener, their carnivorous discord raw contagion as the noise rock seeded invasion swiftly has body and thoughts bouncing with equally bedlamic eagerness before the track releases its puppet into the waiting subversive rock ‘n’ roll jaws of Dial Tone. Harmonic toxins vein the boisterously bruising stomp, lighting up its heavy tenebrous flood of sound to easily get under the skin whilst exhausting the senses though it in turn is just a warm up for the even more debilitating roar of A Sorrowfull Night. With strand like hooks recalling The Fall within its tsunami of voluminous sound, the track is a post/noise punk trap to which capture and addiction was a done deal within its first few breaths.