Let’s start by talking about the delightful board game ‘Mouse Trap’. If you’ve never played, the game hinges on a super-complicated machine, the aforementioned mouse trap; you turn a crank, which knocks a ball, that sends a diver into a tub, and finally a little cage lowers onto the mouse. But why are we wittering on about such Rube Goldberg machines? Because they perform a simple task in a complicated way* and it’s a microcosm of what Lower Automation are up to on their self-titled debut album. Of course that task is ‘blowing your socks off’, and for all its complexity, it works remarkably well. And, like a mousetrap, once it’s got you, it won’t let go.
With two EPs behind them, the Chicago three-piece have an established sound, but it’s one they are exploring further here. If you haven’t encountered them before, Lower Automation sound like a head-on collision between The Dillinger Escape Plan and At The Drive-In – taking the former band’s approach to music and combining it with the latter’s emotional heart. It’s a blend of lots of notes, shifting tempos and wild guitars that owes as much to 2000s Seattle post-hardcore scene as it does to mathcore.
The band are quoted as wanting to make the “weirdest” album they could, and put simply, they have succeeded. Frantic opener ‘6 Degrees From Phrenology’ is mathy and stuffed with squealy, shrieking guitars, quickly setting the scene; you can feel the jazz influence in the anything goes approach to songwriting, and at times it feels like a tug-of-war between the three instruments, creating an impression that’s equal parts “Why does this work?” and “Why is this so great?”. It’s definitely weird, but is executed in a way that never feels forced. Subsequent songs follow the same approach, hitting hard while broadly sticking to the same territory as their previous EP ‘Shoebox Companion’, yet they’re not repeating themselves, making for a very compelling album.
For all its alleged weirdness, the album is focused on a specific sound – so you won’t find any genre-hopping, and Lower Automation aren’t as versatile as bands like Dillinger. Instead, their music has a defined feel, no matter what they are attempting. Compare the wall of noise on ‘Paper Cuts’ to the angular ‘Dressed In Camo, Hyped To The Teeth’ and you can see they’re not short of ideas and can express them in a variety of ways. There’s also a sense that they’ve discovered the boundaries of their chosen sound and are gleefully pushing against it, most notably during the pitch-shifted solo on ‘Father’s Shirt Is A Dress On Me’, which is sharply abrasive and exactly the right length to grab your attention without grating on your nerves.
With most songs clocking in around the two-minute mark, it’s a relatively short album. This means nothing outstays its welcome, even ‘Old Sparky’, which doesn’t quite stretch to three full minutes but uses its runtime to full effect. In doing so it manages to open outward, not so much like a flower, but more like a spoked wheel, with each section bracing the next in a way that is calculated yet artistic.
Being so crammed with ideas, the songs feature an evolving approach to riffing so even what you might call the main riff ‘Combover’ only rears its head a couple of times, but it does so with enough power to make an impression in the sea of fretwork. There is also a notable off-kilter riff running through ‘Locust Bean Gum’ which is wonderfully chaotic, and hearing how the various parts slot together creates an overall impression that is thrillingly awkward. It’s like watching a man trying to walk with knives and forks down his trousers, all swagger that’s easy to love, and you’ll find yourself swaying along to its rhythms.
The heaviest songs here are where the band really shine and are almost designed to show off what they are capable of. ‘6 Degrees From Phrenology’ is a short sharp shock of frantic fretwork and ‘Father’s Shirt Is A Dress On Me’ is a contorted assault. On ‘Dread’, the repeating string slides and fast strums are slick and mind-bending, but they work so well because the song feels like a caged beast; vicious, but held within a structure. This approach is heard on every song, giving the record a restless, propulsive energy, and even the relatively sedate opening to ‘Vegan Neuroscientist’ uses its pointed riffs to drag you into its world.
Vocally the band favour the kind of post-hardcore yelps that Cedric Bixler-Zavala used on At The Drive-In’s most combative recordings. This gives an easy accessibility to ‘Paper Cuts’ and recalls the work on their previous EPs, but on songs like ‘Dread’ the vocals sit further back and are used more for texture. In fact, the approach very much depends on what the song is trying to achieve, with ‘Ruiner’ providing the best example as there’s a shaking fragility that serves to underscore the song’s lyrical themes. The song also brings the album to an abrupt halt, and after twenty minutes of raising a middle finger to your expectations, it feels like a fitting conclusion.
Lower Automation are skilled chaos wranglers, and while on the surface this self-titled album is a thrill-a-minute ride, there is so much more hiding beneath. It’s weird enough to be exciting without being alienating – and like the best elaborate machines, the whole point is that it is delightfully unhinged.
*Much like this review.
IAN KENWORTHY