Review Summary: Listen, Soak It In, Feel That Shocking Feeling
There’s something strange about a band
coming back when you’ve only known about them since their previous release. I’ll admit that I don’t share the nostalgia that many of Glassjaw’s longtime fans have, but instead have the memories of being a college kid and discovering a band that I was convinced no one else I knew would like. That initial shock of hearing the wicked-sounding vocals of “Pretty Lush” and “Tip Your Bartender” and the unrecognizable guitars “Stuck Pig” was something that I longed for. It took me a long time to
like the noise, but it was worth the journey. What I love most about
Material Control is not any single element, but the fact that these songs give me that same shocking feeling that I got when I first heard the band.
That feeling is a hard one to pinpoint. Sure, there are moments like the intro of “Citizen,” which goes from a frantic double time to Daryl Palumbo singing in a lower tone that doesn’t seem to fit the song at all until the chorus. Or the abrupt ending of “Strange Hours,” or perhaps the entirety of “Pompeii,” which lacks any sort of vocal hook from start to end. These moments haven’t sat right with me over repeated listens, but that seems to be natural of Glassjaw. In spite of those moments, Palumbo’s signature memorable choruses are still present in half of the songs. “New White Extremity” and “Closer” feel like flashbacks to the Glassjaw of two decades ago.
Therein lies the biggest problem with
Material Control—its wild inconsistency. The muddied vocal mixing gives most of the songs a very course texture. Where
Worship and Tribute and
Coloring Book present a range of texture, this album throws the listener a wall of sound that scarcely relents. “Strange Hours” offers a respite, but resembles more of a slow burn than a true calm. Instrumental “Bastille Day” keeps a consistent drone into the album’s densest track, “Pompeii.” Most questionable is the self-titled track, which seems entirely out of place. In an interview with NPR, Justin Beck called the track a “palette cleanser,” but it only separates the final song and renders it less memorable. If there’s a point to that, I’m clearly missing it.
While I might not buy Beck’s description of the self-titled track, he easily turns out to be the star of
Material Control. The amount of ball-kicking, shiver-inducing riffs found here outnumber anything else in the band’s discography. From the instant “Golgotha” and “My Conscience Weighs a Ton” begin, they just beg for a pit to be opened up. “Closer” and “Pompeii” are dominated by dissonance that’s more punctuated by guitar than vocals. Perhaps that’s a result of the production, but Palumbo clearly isn’t making melody a priority this time around. Each song is marked with by guitar fills and flair (and even a legitimate solo in “Shira”) that draw the ear away from the rhythm and create a push-and-pull dynamic between the rhythm section and the guitar and vocals. Whether by design or mere intuition, it’s exhilarating hearing the band balance between the two.
I have been stuck trying to pin down whether this is the band returning to a pre-2000’s hardcore sound or just a progression from the 2011 EPs, but it’s the wrong question. Why can’t it be both? Why can’t it be neither? After listening a half dozen times,
Material Control doesn’t appear to fit a simple category. Glassjaw has released a collection of challenging and rewarding songs, which seems to be the only apt description of the band’s entire published work. Listen, soak it in, and feel that shock when Palumbo screams “You scorch the Earth before you roam the waste like ants under duress,” that you felt the first time
Everything You Ever Wanted to Know About Silence reached your ears.
