On paper, Chicagoan avantgarde sludge/post metal quartet Yakuza, (who lest we forget are not some johnny come lately outfit having been around for several iterations of the noise scene they were at the fulcrum of creating way back in 1999) should be held in the same rarefied company as say ISIS (the band), Botch, Dillinger Escape Plan et al. True originators, carving their own niche on the arm of the world, forward thinking, complex, deep, dark, playful and counterintuitive, Yakuza have all the ingredients throughout their lengthy tenure to justifiably argue that they are one of the scenes leading lights. But (and it’s a big but) it just never seemed to have happened for them. I saw these guys pop up on the filthy, shit caked scrolls of Ave Noctum’s towers review list and as I cowered in fear at the sight of our lord of flies, the master of boils, pain, and Angel Delight, as he deigned to allow me to contribute once more, I thought, ‘Oh, I think I like these guys……?’. I have oft stumbled upon Yakuza on various online music sites, and it takes about one minute after their music slams into my ears, before I realise that it REALLY depends on what my current mood is, as to how I receive and enjoy their output. In fact, those were the very words I said to our esteemed editor.
And so once more unto the breach, dear friends and Yakuza’s first album in over eleven years, that sees them returning with a new collection of songs and it’s immediately apparent from the get go, that the intervening years, have not quenched their thirst to produce a very defined musical mission statement which begs, borrows and steals from one thousand separate genres and bands and conflate them into what is at times is crushingly heavy, confusing, disorientating, derivative, genre bucking slices of textured dark psalms. It’s a confused (quite deliberately I would imagine) cannon of songs, that seems to exist in different universes to each other. What seems to be the current scene trend for the use of saxophones (ken Mode, Spotlights) in a juxtaposition that sometimes works and sometimes tears you from the song in a random act of senseless violence, leaving you feeling bereft, angry, annoyed, and slightly disappointed. Again, I think this may well be Yakuza’s aim all along, having decided to set themselves along the path of not going two figs as to genre conventions and merrily going about their own business without any consideration to their fan base. But this sax errs on the side of being an unwelcome and juxta positioned distraction.
I think my main gripe here, is the vocals, which seem to emanate from the Mike Patton (Mr. Bungle), Chuck Mosely era Faith No More with a side order of Jim Morrison (The Doors) a droning, almost spoken word whisper with off key shouts, that you expect to go all guttural, grungy and growly at any moment but does not waver and stays within the slightly strained, slightly off key modus operandum. In some respects, the music itself defies categorisation but it does feature some unashamed genuflection at the altar of early Mastodon and Swans in the darker, slower corners of this album. I appreciate the band have stuck true to what they do, and that determinism should be applauded, but having gone back through their back catalogue and then taken this album out for dinner and a cheeky cigarette by the bins after two bottles of wine, I am decidedly undecided. There are moments on here that I really like, especially when the tempo is giving a line of speed and in these moments, all is well, as Yakuza take their new songs out for a bike ride but then in other less cohesive moments, the songs meander all over the shop, and send your bike crashing into a wall and splitting your head open. This album is absolutely all over the shop and despite my best intentions (I absolute applaud someone or something trying something new and innovative) this album comes across as a band flagging a dead horse, then trying to revive it and expecting it run the Grand National. It’s too disparate, lacks coherence and the vocals area a distraction, being as I believe they are, incongruous to the songs they accompany. There are some truly great moments on this album which then makes you wonder, why the band contrived to delicately spread these rays of sunshine, amongst so much middling and confused sounding musical detritus.
(5/10 Nick Griffiths)
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