Try not to bang your head in symmetry with Kyle Fisher‘s drums on Blunt Force Concussion, or keep your air guitar hidden as Bentham shreds through the opening of Damage Control – you’ll rarely succeed. And that’s arguably what this record is most efficient at, whether you’re nearing the motorway speed limit, sticking to the floors of a club, or wallowing in bedroom loneliness – it’s ready made to strike a chord regardless of setting. The latter in particular delivers the kind of clean guitar picks that puts THE WOMBATS to shame before delivering a striking, salient gang vocal. Elvis 77′ and Done With Drugs are purposefully simplistic, but are begging to be screamed in your mates ear at 3AM. Mostly though, Fuck Art is bursting at the seams with floor fillers. But even in its laboured tone, THE DIRTY NIL still make room for infectious chorus hooks, despite them sitting under the surface. The much more purposefully cynical The Guy Who Stole My Bike is a potent attack on, well, a guy who stole Luke‘s bike. Vocalist/guitarist Luke Bentham‘s chimes of “ We could hold hands, and listen to SLAYER in the back of my Dodge Caravan” are humbling, humorous, and beautifully bellowed. Instead of stretching the phrase “life’s a bit shit, isn’t it?” out over 11 songs, the three piece use a sense of whit, and outrageous melody to leave a smile on your face and skip in your step – even if you’re the brunt of the joke.Īlbum opener Doom Boy while fleeting between straight up metal and hard rock escapades, tells the tale of a man in his Thirties using his love for TURNSTILE and CRO-MAGS as a way of trying to cover up his accelerating age. Expect an album of misery laced gripes at your peril though. Social media habits, a general lack of fulfilment, and a fear of affection are just three of the common millennial downfalls that end up in the Canadians crosshairs on their new record. Whitty, intelligent, and bold – Fuck Art is a 40 minute diatribe of lunacy in the modern age. And as the bands third effort, Fuck Art lays its first of several hooks down, you won’t care whether they’re sporting the latest, most uncomfortable Doc Martens available, or they’re bouncing round in crocs. Fortunately, the three piece are everything contemporary rock music should be.
At a time where the correlation between fashion and success in rock and roll is being debated, Canadian trio THE DIRTY NIL are about to deliver a timely reminder that without great song writing – you’ve got nothing.
0 kommentar(er)
