What happened here? I’ll tell you – a complete abandonment of the “write a good song and record it well” approach that so many bands have mistakenly followed. Then again, this is Zulus and they are certainly more than happy to follow their own path to sonic deconstruction.
To call these nine tracks songs would be to do them an injustice. Sarcasm aside however, there is much to be enjoyed in their full on manic to the point of aggression tactics with everything from voice to guitar sounding broken and yet still being pushed into doing it one more time.
The crushing weight of reverb sits on top of these songs but you just can’t keep a good performer, or four, down and Zulus easily break out of the underground cells previously inhabited by The Dictators, The Jesus and Mary Chain and, most probably, a brace of psychotic axe murderers.
So, whilst on a technical and musical level, I should hate this album, I can’t because the world needs more albums like this just to keep it spinning. Your granny might even like it (if she is into hard drugs, that is).
May Zulus therefore be blessed!