Labels: At Arms Mechanics
Review by: Kunal Nandi
Reading the comments in the booklet will not prepare you for the sound that emerges when you hit ‘play’, which is surprising as many of the revelations are shocking. “The music and live experiences of Thoughts Of Ionesco paralleled the worst times of my life,” says one acquaintance. “Being at those shows made me want to start licking the walls, getting real sleazy,” states a Mr. William T. Arnold. “Playing in the band was one of the most masochistic times of my life; it was also one of the most memorable and self-satisfying,” confesses an ex-drummer. “Thoughts Of Ionesco was a band that managed to scare the shit out of us,” admits Mike Reed of Small Brown Bike, who also run the label this came out on.
I can see what he means, because this record is one of the most incredibly raw, painfully emotional experiences I’ve ever had the pleasure of listening to. From the very start, we’re immediately treated to power-chords, crashing cymbals and a scream from the depths of hell, before lurching into some sick mid-tempo hardcore that simply crushes everything in its wake. This is a huge sound for any band, let alone one with only three players. Actually, at times, even that isn’t true. Just as you’ve pegged them as highly inventive hardcore pioneers in the vein of Unbroken or Melvins, they pull out an acoustic guitar and gently strum it beautifully for a few minutes. Yet the stylistic U-turn doesn’t jar – it’s just a continuation of their efforts to make deeply emotional music that successfully conveys a sense of claustrophobia and panic without resorting to whipcrack time changes and lightspeed drumming.
But it’s more than just loud (usually). When Sean H. screams, “I am beautifully insane,” for example, you believe it, totally and without question. Maybe it’s those anecdotes of singers punching holes in walls and drummers rolling in glass that trick you into believing it. Maybe it’s the sheer volume of the music, but whatever it is, it works beautifully.
So there you go. Emo-esque lyrical content and sensibilities (with song-titles to match – “Regarding October”, “For An End”), welded to inventive and crushing hardcore which you could happily headbang to. I cannot recommend this enough.