3 out of 5

Label: Tortuga

Producer: Glen Robinson

“Recorded and mixed in one day.”  When the stutter mash grind of “Rats” started blasting over my stereo, I first thanked my lucky stars for Hydra Head and all its sister labels, and then I said to myself I’d found another hardcore band to champion.  This is a short album, 8 tracks, 20 minutes, and they pass effortlessly.  Too effortlessly, unfortunately, for something that should be this aggressive.  The band nails the manic crash of noise the Daughters would evolve into, the half-spoken, half-growled incensed sounding vocals, the repeated lines and themes that substitute for repeated choruses, the quiet to loud mash of unfollowable, blazing fast guitar licks and drum noodling – this is a sharp band, and these are sharp compositions.  But for some reason, whether its the recording style – clean but not sharp – or how everything is mixed at about the same level, even when there’s a bass breakdown or we’re stripped to just vocals – for some reason, there’s no edge to it.  That’s not a bad thing, necessarily, but despite my initial Wow, upon a headphone listen, with the album on repeat, I would tune out and tune in and realize I was on the same track – meaning I’d listened to the album from start to finish and around again and not noticed.  When I forced myself to slow down, I’d again get that feeling of discovery – this is a badass band, and I bet they’re a hoot live, and I will be seeking out other releases – but I quoted the “Recorded and mixed…” from the liner notes because it speaks to how tight the group is, but also how easy, perhaps, the recording comes across.  Not denying the sweat and blood actually playing and writing this stuff takes, but it seems notable here.  Glen Robinson, the producer, is a generic name, so I’m not sure which Glen is him on the list of Allmusic credits, but I see some bands like Voivod and GWAR who are likely candidates who, to my ear, “suffer” from a similar white-washed style of recording.

Better than whatever you’re listening to, “The Rats Know Him” is nonetheless too swallow-able a pill to be required listening for those seeking ear bleeding.  Daughters might dig this band, but I have to credit them with spinning the formula into something a bit more devastating.