As a rule, I try to ignore the name-dropping that press releases love to pack in, but this one did catch my attention. Thurston Moore was loving their work so much he signed them to his label, then Rick Rubin declared Violet Soho to be cool. Then they got a seriously heavyweight production team in to work on this, their eponymous debut.
What makes 'Violent Soho' a great album is that for all the names backing it, there's nothing overtly corporate about it, and absolutely nothing fashionable. While riff-heavy guitar music may be making a comeback in the north of England, it's not yet become a global trend. Yet 'Violent Soho' is a beast of an album dominated by driving guitars and angst and rage (lead single 'Jesus Stole My Girlfried' is a perfect illustration here). It's an album that harks back to another time, back in the early 90s, when dudes wore plaid shirts and ripped jeans because they were the only clothes they had, and played loud guitar music because it provided an escape from the grind of blue collar jobs. Grunge was borne of frustration, not a desire to be cool, and because of this there was a purity about it. The same is true of Violent Soho: this is a record that's about passion, not fashion. Headswim or Nickelback they aren't.
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The ten tracks, none more than three and a half minutes in duration, crackle with energy and angst. The mix isn't a radio-friendly sell-out with the vocals right at the fore: instead, this is about a solid rhythm section and big, gritty, driving guitars.
'Muscle Junky' is a real standout: slower paced and dominated by a pulverizing guitar and infused with real anger, singer Boredom howls the refrain 'fuck you, fuck you.... I hate your face.' While I really don't feel comfortable slinging cliches like 'cathartic' into reviews, this is one occasion where it's not only appropriate, but unavoidable. Yes, 'Violent Soho' is an unashamedly honest, frustrated guitar-driven blast of an album.
I suppose the grunge revival is inevitable, and I'd wager that it starts here.
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