by Chris Coplan (@CCoplan)
Before I even played note one of the new Meat Wave album, the universe sent me a sign. In his glowing review on the Bandcamp page for Malign Hex, user Darknight says the LP is "the soundtrack to lighten up all our miserable lives through this hellish time." Sure, it's not the most novel thought; angsty, nihilistic punk has always been a great salve, but this ain't no normal timeline, and it truly seems anger's the default everywhere. If anything, being angry means you're paying attention, and the more seething you are day-to-day, the more it seems like you're well-adjusted (within a fascist hellscape, obviously).
So, if any of that actually holds true, then this Chicago trio have truly delivered a most powerful and transcendent record for our times. That anger, though, isn’t entirely direct. Sure, songs like "What Would You Like Me To Do," an angst-laden post-punk jam whose big guitar noise is outmatched only by its stinging venom, fits the bill. (It’s reportedly an "anti-ode to the baby boomer man" and generational entitlement.) But in other parts of this album, this bile feels more deliberately form-less.
Album opener "Disney," for instance, could be a pointed blow to the mouse god of capitalism, yet it feels just as much pointed at bigger ideas of trauma and family. In that way, it transcends themes and targets to instead distill this fog of rage that seems to be hanging over the world. Same goes for "Merchandise Mart": Chicago's living symbol for the domination of commerce is an easy mark, but Meat Wave lends something off-kilter and abstract to the song’s punk brash and bravado as to present cathartic rage over needless finger-pointing at hackneyed pillars.
The anger that persists on this album is never so cliched to be grounded by the confines of its creators; it's tapping into the ether to explode unseen parts of reality and give listeners the spark to indulge these nameless feelings of fear, disgust, outrage, etc. To support this larger effort, and to strike further at grander ideas and energies, the band emphasize their cohesion as a unit - they record live in a room - to push this LP further. Again, there’s more "direct" songs, like the 90-second hardcore jam "Ridiculous Car," but the album shines when it emphasizes more nuance and complicated structures.
"Complaint," for instance, shows just how effective the trio are in building these huge barrages of sound that are both technically impressive and simplistic enough to whip up big emotions like a sense of disconnect or general anxiety. "Jim's Teeth" does much of the same; by pulling back a little, and opening these pockets of "silence," Meat Wave builds ample space for listeners to react to ideas in a way that feels wholly about personalized expressions.
"Waveless" feels like even more of the same, and it's little moments when the band open up more (via those impactful vocals) that we’re actively led across this aural-emotional journey and not merely dropped off at thematic destinations. To some extent, this output is the band shucking off artifacts like concepts and pointed anthems (all integral parts of punk) for curated spaces. Each song feels like it has some idea in mind, but that idea is never central. It's a building block for something more important, a spark of energy and intellect stimulation that lets listeners forge their own experiences.
In that sense, it's not just that Meat Wave are exploring universal themes/motifs but they're doing it in such a way that gives the listeners all the power and control. By building these soundscapes around these specific (or not specific, yeah?) ideas, the trio have forged a record that blurs sentiments, aesthetics, genres, etc. into this barrage of pure punk rock. It’s an LP that lives not for the moment it's in but something to be seized by anyone who has felt a gap between themselves and the world and wants to fill that with something of value.
That doesn't mean Meat Wave are exactly promising transcendence, it means they're giving us the tools and the support to find that in important art that values personalized expression over clear paths toward old-hat ideas. (That feels like a truly punk-ian accomplishment, despite how much this LP tries to transcend its genre boundaries.)
Another vital part of this record is, as they've expressed in interviews, that the band remain heavily focused on each other. They've allowed themselves to "embellish more" and "take more chances with extra instrumentation," and that shows across the ten tracks here. This record is built not on the impermanence of hate (whether that's political candidates, a global pandemic, bastard neighbors, etc.) but that thing we all share: having to live in this world. They've circled the wagons, as it were, and found the power in each other to make a record built for surviving in the world.
So, where we should only find the purest rage, we instead find the love and commitment needed to tackle the world for all its bitter vibes and endless disappointments. A record for maybe not overcoming it all, but finding the strength in these things we have in common. It’s an object to help us fight for that which truly matters most, ourselves.