LARVAE - Dead Weight

North Amercian electronic act Larvae returns after a positive critical reception for the debut album Fashion Victim (2003). Although Dead Weight opens with the bruising din of Banjos & Brimstone, where powerful breaks roam through a wasteland of maniacal vocal samples and resonating bass signals, the remainder of the album prefers to integrate sublte guitar twitching with a more lucid songwriting aesthetic. Airplanes is a good example, although another brooding, introspective number, here we find acoustic guitars locked into a duet of strained melancholy vocals and suffocating electronic background drones.

If you look deeply into the mix, Dead Weight is a literal treasure trove of complex programming and organic rock musicianship – a magnetic hybrid of styles, amalgamatic dubby rhythms with native percussion – wrapped within a richly contrived songwriting ethic. This is not a happy album – far from it, but an exercise in tortured introspection that delivers some numbing, sharply powerful numbers.

This is evident as the album warms up from the brooding bass drive of the tremoring Less Than Now and the enthralling darkness of the meticulously programmed Warding – fusing weird vocal incantations with fuzzy guitar and brilliantly layered electro-drones. Dead Weight leaks menace like an open sore on Nation Of Bling – with vocal rapping from Non Shadowhuntaz eliciting a few of the band’s cultural philosophies.

Telecast, with vocals and lyrics from Jessica Bailiff, demonstrates how favourable Larvae is to accentuating what would otherwise be some repetitively despondent, albeit expertly carved musical backdrops, with melodic and emotional expression coming through the vocals – another fine track.

However, toward the latter end of the album Larvae often struggles to allow hope to keep its head above water. On the murky Raindelay and Bubastis, little light escapes from the densely packed and detailed grooves and electronic percussion –it’s here that I found the album losing its grip on me. Sometimes Larvae reminds me of a deadpan Nine Inch Nails without Reznor’s wretched screaming all over it.

The album picks up again on Art Of War – where Scalper raps further politically motivated lyrics, backed by uncompromising bass drills and a simple piano motif, whilst on the closing The Logical End, we find Larvae at its most energetic, kranking up with shuffling breaks and with heavy, rhythmical percussion.

No doubt there’s some really good moments on this dark, occasionally overpowering album, but how much of its intensity you can take in one sitting is questionable as the anaesthetic wears off towards its close.



	LARVAE - Dead Weight
	7.5
	Ad Noiseam ~ ADN62CD ~ 12th June 2006
	North Amercian electronic act Larvae returns after a positive critical reception for the debut album Fashion Victim (2003). Although Dead Weight opens with the bruising din of Banjos & Brimstone, where powerful breaks roam through a wasteland of maniacal vocal samples and resonating bass signals, the remainder of the album prefers to integrate sublte guitar twitching with a more lucid songwriting aesthetic. Airplanes is a good example, although another brooding, introspective number, here we find acoustic guitars locked into a duet of strained melancholy vocals and suffocating electronic background drones. If you look deeply into the mix, Dead Weight is a literal treasure trove of complex programming and organic rock musicianship – a magnetic hybrid of styles, amalgamatic dubby rhythms with native percussion – wrapped within a richly contrived songwriting ethic. This is not a happy album – far from it, but an exercise in tortured introspection that delivers some numbing, sharply powerful numbers. This is evident as the album warms up from the brooding bass drive of the tremoring Less Than Now and the enthralling darkness of the meticulously programmed Warding – fusing weird vocal incantations with fuzzy guitar and brilliantly layered electro-drones. Dead Weight leaks menace like an open sore on Nation Of Bling – with vocal rapping from Non Shadowhuntaz eliciting a few of the band’s cultural philosophies. Telecast, with vocals and lyrics from Jessica Bailiff, demonstrates how favourable Larvae is to accentuating what would otherwise be some repetitively despondent, albeit expertly carved musical backdrops, with melodic and emotional expression coming through the vocals – another fine track. However, toward the latter end of the album Larvae often struggles to allow hope to keep its head above water. On the murky Raindelay and Bubastis, little light escapes from the densely packed and detailed grooves and electronic percussion –it’s here that I found the album losing its grip on me. Sometimes Larvae reminds me of a deadpan Nine Inch Nails without Reznor’s wretched screaming all over it. The album picks up again on Art Of War – where Scalper raps further politically motivated lyrics, backed by uncompromising bass drills and a simple piano motif, whilst on the closing The Logical End, we find Larvae at its most energetic, kranking up with shuffling breaks and with heavy, rhythmical percussion. No doubt there’s some really good moments on this dark, occasionally overpowering album, but how much of its intensity you can take in one sitting is questionable as the anaesthetic wears off towards its close.