Review Summary: I do not fear the arctic world.
It all starts with this: a jewel containing the ultimate power. The power in question is known by many as wrath, a dark feeling that dwells within our sound minds and sound bodies, which can appear from out of the blue. For an example, there once lived a docile rottweiler who has been mistreated for several years thanks to his deadbeat owner. A female who can never seem to resist her succubus-like urges, she could care less about her dog, getting more of a kick out of deflowering other women and charming all the moronic boys in the universe. But one night when the lady arrived back at her home, her pet suddenly attacked her without a second thought, furiously barking as he slaughtered his person in a fit of rage. We the jury and witnesses of this story had come to the conclusion that this mongrel's newfangled anger was inspired by a little music group that went by the moniker
Minus.
From the city of Reykjavik, Minus are an Icelandic rock band whose origins date as far back as the year 1998 when the outfit's members were still teenagers. When the band initially started performing music, they were making a name for themselves via a
Converge-influenced sound, which in turn managed to earn the guys a decent quantity of attention courtesy of fans whom lived and breathed the local hardcore scene. With a total of four full-length recordings in their arsenal, the ensemble didn't carry this particular musical direction for too long, and yet they were certainly a force to be reckoned with if the team's sophomore studio album was any indication of that claim. Featuring 11 songs plus a bonus track,
Jesus Christ Bobby cuts right to the chase with the one-two punch combo that is "Chimera" and "Leisure", which both do a fairly solid job at defining the band's earlier stylistic choices. Containing downright aggressive instrumentation and vicious, nigh-indecipherable screaming vocals, the nature of these two ditties holds true for a majority of the record. Supplying what is essentially a punk-tinged personality, the effort likes putting raw energy and fury above every other characteristic that the LP's got under its poisonous belt. However, it must be said that the two aforementioned qualities are showcased in a manner that's rather compelling, to say the least, with both "Misdo" and "Frat Rock" possessing memorable rhythm sections to compliment the typical hostility whilst avoiding the risk of inconsistency in the process. If there's one thing the affair is capable of excelling at the most, then it's the communication between the instrumentalists on board; for example, vocalist Krummi's screams in conjunction with Ivar's chunky basslines on the tune "Electra Complex" yield generally winsome results.
Regarding the songcraft of the album, the LP is practically uber-effective at keeping stuff interesting for the listener while not straying from the core sound. Ferocious and energetic as a huge portion of this release is, it
does seat a few surprises, although these curveballs ultimately border on being hit-and-miss in execution. "Arctic Exhibition" is easily a highlight: its relatively calm, sentimental atmosphere predominately revolves around Krummi utilizing pleasant clean singing and acoustic guitars; it's something left-field, sure, but the experimentation makes for a great payoff. The instances of variety here and on official album closer "Pulse" - which functions as a foreshadowing to Minus' later material - are without exaggeration bountiful, but the strength of the diversity proves unremarkable with "Modern Haircuts". Seeing how his comparatively melodramatic voice doesn't bounce off Krummi's battle roars well, Einar Orn's guest appearance on the track culminates in an otherwise fine song becoming avoidable. On the subject of the craftsmanship, Minus' second album is boisterous in that case, displaying punchy guitar riffage and catchy track structures that surprisingly don't get as stale as a lot of people would believe. The warp and woof of Frosti and Bjarni's parts are consistently unconcealed, due in no small part to the noisy production values handled by Curver Thoroddsen, and the unhinged vocal deliveries of frontman Krummi are acceptable enough as is. Drummer Bjossi isn't as noteworthy as the other men in the squadron, if you take into consideration his tendency to blend in with the background, though he still gets a pass for whatever he's tackling down.
On the whole,
Jesus Christ Bobby, Minus' second studio LP, warrants a totally worthwhile check for those who are either into the local hardcore scene or just appreciate the music itself. The songwriting job doesn't always stand proud and the variation can occasionally stumble, although for what it tries to do, the recording is a wild beast who will wake up comatose victims in a manner of seconds.
Satisfying.
Angel recommends
- Misdo
- Electra Complex
- Frat Rock
- Arctic Exhibition
- Pulse
