Sure, it never really went away, but we might be in the middle of a noise rock revival. First, Deftones returned last year with the magnificent private music. Second, Neurosis came back, complete with Aaron Turner of Sumac and Isis on lead vocals. And third, Converge dropped TWO different albums this year, both of which have received rave reviews. It seems that practitioners and fans need the sort of cathartic release that can only be provided by loud music.
And then Protomartyr entered the ring.
Led by the robust vocals of Joe Casey, this Detroit quartet has been creating darkly expansive post-punk since 2010. The group creates for thick grooves pulsing with heavy ambiance, all while avoiding both avant-garde motorik sensibilities and generic chugging. With their seventh album, entitled Hotel Usona, the group opts for a more operatic approach to their art. Released on Domino, the result is an elegiac symphony of magnificent instrumentation with widescreen ambition.
The loud yet syncopated drumming of Alex Leonard provides a firm foundation for this nine-song record. He displays a hearty penchant for intentional dynamism that offers plenty of room for the lyrics, music, and vibes to take root and grow. Greg Ahee’s guitars sneer and snarl, unless they’re creating spectral sensations with vibrato, echo, and delay pedals. The huge bass tone created by Scott Davidson thankfully never overwhelms the mix, especially as it gives essential support to Ahee’s eerie synth lines. And it would be folly to neglect the free jazz-inflected horn lines laid down in the studio by Jon Fridmann (son of the album’s producer, Dave Fridmann), as his artistry sends these songs into the stratosphere.
More people should be discussing the band’s philosophical brand of hard rock.
Casey’s heavy lyrics discuss the pains and injustices of contemporary life, whether we’re discussing the depressing Idiocracy of American politics or the bleak late capitalism of global economics. The album title itself is a metaphor in that each song represents a different thematic room for our very scary world. “Converts” fuses clattering drums and wailing trumpets atop frustrated words about JD Vance. On “Feed the Sewer,” the band lashes out in furious anger about the dangers posed to art and the environment by artificial intelligence. With “Third Country,” desolate, wind-swept desert rock sends up a requiem for the dead created by deportation.
Thankfully, Hotel Usona possesses the occasional glimmer of beauty that gives just enough hope to keep going. Protomartyr doesn’t want people to wallow in the slough of despair. They want you to be inspired to action by their brand of subtle intensity. If the world sucks, then it’s up to us to fix it. It also helps that the music rejects bombastic tropes and cheap shifts in dynamics. By opting for tight, locked-in musicianship, the quiet elements, which evoke the emptiness of the desolate Southwest, give the loud parts even more oomph.
Yes, noise rock needs to be noisy. It’s literally in the name.
But sometimes, you need to embrace a bit of nuance. Because if the bands participating in this sonic renaissance all start to sound the same – right down to how they use volume and timbre – then that rebirth will be stillborn. Thus, Protomartyr has conjured up a crucial counterbalance to the traditions of this genre that deserves your attention.