ABRAMS

Something or someone has really pissed ABRAMS off. After six albums of nimble, stoner-friendly sludge with a prevailing mood of wistful, post-metal grandeur, the Colorado quartet have made a significant change to their trademark sound. Everything that fans will be expecting and hoping for is still in evidence on "Loon", but in keeping with the fractious state of the world and the looming sense of catastrophe that invades every aspect of so-called normal life, this is an album that rejects apathy in favor of full-throated, snot-spraying rage. ABRAMS are fucking angry.

It begins with a thuggish beat, an eruption of feedback and the first of many vicious, antagonistic riffs that aim to sweep away complacency while also knocking some of your teeth out. "Glass House" is a tense, angst-ridden punk rock blowout, with more energy than this band have ever exhibited before, and a streamlined, hard-as-nails momentum that is nothing short of thrilling. Ferocious double-kicks, angular guitar noise, nauseous breakdowns and riff after rampaging riff: ABRAMS are reborn as a spitting, screaming sludgecore bulldozer, and it suits them (and the moment) perfectly. The song ends with a deeply nasty burst of fast-as-fuck aggro, as if the band are making sure that everyone is suitably concussed. Next, "White Walls" is a stuttering, lurching blaze of belligerence, with spiky post-punk overtones and vocal harmonies that envelop this brutish juggernaut in a much-needed shroud of humanity. Without Taylor Iverson and Zachary Amster's gritty, soulful vocals, "Loon" would still be invigorating and addictive, but its ability to forge connections with the listener would be severely hampered. Thankfully, those dulcet tones are all over these songs, and the contrast between the gnarliness of the riffs and the bittersweet melodies that surf across them is wonderfully compelling.

Equidistant between QUICKSAND and -(16)- , "Last Nail" is an exhilarating bolt of post-everything rock; "Said & Done" is a rambunctious clatter with noise rock roots and vast quantities of triumphantly abused guitar; "Waves" takes a more measured and melodic approach to conveying dark emotion, but a steady build-up of untamed distortion ensures that it hits the target with venom; and "How Did I Lose My Mind?" posits a question that we must all have asked ourselves over the last few years, with a sinuous, loping groove that drips with desperation and a persistent, grinding bassline that rattles every speaker in the room.

The remaining four songs maintain both the quality and distinctiveness of ABRAMS's subtle transformation. "A State Of Mind" is dreamy and restrained, with more of those gorgeous harmonies, but its rugged, mid-paced gait underpins its melodic core with overwhelming sense of purpose. "Home" employs seven beats to the bar in a furious attempt to pin listeners to the wall, as riffs collide into one another and ABRAMS air-tight ensemble performance teeters on the edge of exhausted collapse. Sprightly and awkward, "Remains" begins with a spring in its step, before descending into hurried and harried dissonance, and the closing "Sirens" brings the curtain down with the prettiest melodies and gentlest atmosphere that this album will allow.

ABRAMS are pissed off, but "Loon" offers much more than empty-head wrath. Sharp, smart and entirely free of extraneous distractions, these are the hardest and heaviest songs they have ever committed to tape, but also the most unashamedly exciting. Maybe the slow disintegration of social sanity has its benefits after all.