Review Summary: Adding a splash of colour to a monochrome landscape
Once upon a time, in an internet netherrealm far away, there existed a website called myspace. Tucked into the recesses of this website, there was a band called 'See You Next Tuesday'. Hardy-har, knee-slap, guffaw, the world turneth. Now, somewhat unlike the majority of their contemporaries using the same platform for promotion, SYNT offered more in the way of a grind sound than the rallies of deathcore/ emo/ moshcore fare that plastered every scene kid's Hot Topic shirt. Their chaotic, dissonant sound, perhaps comparable to a cat being doctored without anaesthetic, offered something a little different to the breakdown-laden, brooding angst, and although they were far from the only grind outfit on the website, they were certainly one of the trendier ones to punch through hardest. Unfortunately, different doesn't always mean better- grind as a genre is typically unrefined, but the image and lack of dynamism on the outfit's first two full-lengths hardly set a high bar, and it didn't help that the scenester image centric to the promotion of their sound at the time shot any notion of them being taken seriously in the foot. Counting myself amongst the denizens listening to this band back in the day (...and recommending them to anyone with a similar taste in music), I was incredibly surprised to hear that a new album was in the works. The band were markedly a product of their time in image, but in sound they had something more undefinable and formless on display, so to see if they could peddle their wares in a market that has had a great deal to offer in times of late was an intriguing prospect indeed. So, a success story? A moderate improvement? The same old s**t on a different day? Well, yes actually, to all three.
The main aspect of the album that improves upon its predecessors is its diversity. Offered up is the expected spaghetti-maze of distortion and high-velocity riffing accompanied by demonic shrieks and gutturals, but tracks are actual compositions this time. They have development and evolve their structures as they progress, as seen on tracks like 'What A Funny Girl', which utilises a sweep-picked electrical storm of an intro to usher in the howling anguish of the grind, before rounding off with some nice hardcore-esque gang vocals. Make no mistake, we're talking caveman advancements here: think discovering a rock, and then making the link that it could be feasibly be used to bludgeon someone. Nonetheless, the movements within these songs balance the assault of the grind aggression with slower electronic framing, gentle interludes and escalating intros/ outros. Nothing groundbreaking, but dynamic enough that the core sound is strengthened by their inclusion. 'I'll Never Be The Same', for example, builds upon the framework of the band's established foundations by giving listeners the anticipated explosion of violence, whilst balancing it with a progressive structure that shunts from nasty, to brooding, and then finally into abject chaos. The closest tracks to the band's, ahem, 'glory days' are 'Glad To Be Unhappy' and 'Call Me Irresponsible'; which are both displays of pure radio-static grind, but with the latter mixing things up by way of a dissonant electronic influence that trades in the machine-gun pummeling for power electronics-infused abrasion. Both songs are cut from the same cloth, but manifest in different ways- and as a way of giving the sound extra variety, that's just dandy.
Now, these developments are improvements to be sure, and reinforce core tenets of a somewhat flimsy sonic landscape. This is good. In terms of the actual quality of the songwriting overall, however, there's still a ways to go. Consumed as a piece of work from beginning to end, it's a rollercoaster. It's one of those rollercoasters you get at beachside resorts which have long since passed their glory days. Yet, the ride still operates, and offers a thrill for those looking for that nostalgia itch to be scratched. But, the hydraulics rattle like an aerosol, it screeches like a banshee on the bends and once or twice it even breaks down on the chain-lifts. And the whiplash. Lordy lordy, the whiplash. These are the sort of faults the listener needs to be willing to overlook to get full enjoyment out of this record. When it flows from track to track, it's an extremely fun ride- for instance, the progress from tracks 'This Happy Madness' to 'I Had The Wildest Dream' is bizarre, and feels like a truly unhinged, nasty experience; a canticle becomes bludgeoning violence in a flash, and although this is only a bridge between the two cuts, it feels well-fitted and smart in its implementation. Moreover, it fits the album's aesthetic; 'Hey Look, No Crying' is perhaps the release's most multi-faceted moment, and it works exceptionally well. A demented groove and thunderous percussion serve as the backbone for a track that balances precariously between spastic tantrum and brooding breakdown. 'Why Can't You Behave' gives a similar style of teetering, albeit with more piercing guitar tones and higher levels of dissonance. There is a distinct throughline on this record that simply was not present on the band's previous releases, but the experience still feels disjointed overall despite the attempted cohesion. The diversity expands the sound but oftentimes feels shoehorned in, and a number of the grind moments themselves feel like pressure-cookers of vicious complacency; turbulent to the max but uninspired and quite bland on occasion.
There are a lot of caveats that come with Distractions. It's unchallenging, entertaining, and offers a side to the band that those familiar with them have not experienced before. It is also the most expansive offering they have produced to date, and it feels substantial, despite it being less than half an hour long and the content itself not being quite as meaty as it could be. The main issue is the record's still-pervasive immaturity, which manifests through a janky sequence of tracks that undoubtedly have their moments, but too frequently lapse into old habits. The more developed songwriting traits are welcome additions and create a far more dynamic texture to the track listing, but these peaks and troughs oftentimes feel token and novel rather than intrinsic to the musical experience. Ultimately, the success of Distractions with you, the listener, rests upon how forgiving you are. Consider this the crucial piece of the puzzle for enjoying, even appreciating this record. It's a whole heap of fun, and multiple times I found myself settling into grooves and squinting with pleasure as a barrage of instrumentation washed over me like a wave. It took me back to a simpler time, and then did a double take and came back full swing, hitting me with dimensionality I wouldn't expect from a band such as this. I highly doubt my experience will be the standard for this album, but I do hope that the intrigue and nostalgia-baiting will be enough for people sitting on the fence to give it a spin. Grab a beer, a nice set of headphones and a big ol' pile of salt, and you could be in for a great time.
