Regardless if you’re a guitar god or never touched a stringed instrument, you know what fuzz is. There’s something about that gnarly, distorted sound that defies guitar and transcends tone. Whether it’s the bottom end of a surf anthem or standing center stage of a generation’s audio revolution, fuzz has been part of rock n’ roll since its infancy. It could even be argued fuzz has become a genre in itself. Sadly, just like any sub-genre, fuzz could quickly become a parody of itself. For every Ty Segall, there’s a Black Keys. But this is where Brother O’ Brother comes in with their latest LP Skin Walker. It’s fuzz with purpose.
As indie becomes as obnoxious as the hipsters play fuzzy blues rock stereotype, Skin Walker offers up something a little different.
Where most bands of the sub-genre spout psychedelic lyrics infused with their favorite recreational drug, Brother O’ Brother take aim at society’s infatuation with technology and the sound of their own voice. The album opens with a dreary guitar vamp beneath Roddenberry-esque blips and bleeps as a digital monotone voice dispels humanity’s proverbial downfall. Yeah, this isn’t a Jack White record. Before we get too comfortable, the prologue fades into “Elixir”, a whirlwind of thrash metal and garage punk. This sets the stage for the rest of the album, taking turns between scalding riffs and sharp-tongued commentary.
According to the band’s press release, Skin Walker refers to a malevolent witch of Native American folklore. One who has the ability to possess or shape-shift into an animal at will. This pairs perfectly with the lyrical themes of political manipulation, invasion of privacy, and pop culture collapsing in on itself. Are we under the skin walker’s thumb, or are we the skin walker? A question was brought up several times throughout with an answer left up to the listener.
Despite only 3 previous albums and a handful of EPs/singles, Skin Crawler feels like decades of evolution for Brother O’ Brother.
While there’s plenty of fun to be had in a traditional rock n’ roll sense, Skin Walker is a serious affair. This is something I wasn’t really expecting from a band whose live show sometimes teeters on WWF levels of showmanship. Brother O’ Brother isn’t changing what made them so fun on previous releases, but they’re clearly evolving as artists. But that’s not to say Skin Walker is a dire release. Most of the songs are heart-racing fast, thanks to Warner Swopes’ maniacal rhythm section. Meanwhile, guitarist/vocalist Chris Banta uses the guitar like a chainsaw while shouting into the mic like some sort of demented ringmaster.
In their evolution, Brother O’ Brother showcases some unexpected influences. Everything from Pixies, Melvins, and Ty Segall, to unexpected (and maybe unintentional?) call-backs to early thrash such as Slayer and Exodus. I would be lying if I told you there weren’t a few instances where Banta reminds me of Psalms 69-era Al Jourgensen. Of course, that could very well be the social commentary speaking but either way, it works quite well!
If anything, Skin Walker is a testament to Brother O’ Brother’s dedication to their craft.
It’s astonishing to see a band evolve so much in a matter of a few short years. But do so in such an organic way. The feral attitude and deranged showmanship are still very much here for fans of the S/T, Show Pony and Neon Native albums. But Skin Walker is the band tackling social issues while firing on all cylinders. There aren’t too many bands in the fuzz genre who can do that without becoming a gimmick. Needless to say, if there is a single band to do just that, it’s Brother O’ Brother.
Skin Walker is available on Bandcamp, Spotify, and in various delectable vinyl variants at Romanus Records.
