108
A New Beat From A Dead Heart

Starting to talk about the 108s, it is necessary to take a step back before addressing the present; indeed, we are not talking about a young band debuting on Converge member Ballou's label, the renowned Deathwish. The Americans in question are, in fact, a long-standing group with three LPs and a mini album in their past, mostly compiled in the collection "Creation. Sustenance. Destruction" released by Equal Vision Records.

Just before the release of this anthology, the group reunited for some live shows across various American festivals (this was in 2005 Editor's Note), and the guys rediscovered a taste for it, forgetting the split that occurred in 1996 due to one member's study of Hinduism.

Hinduism, at least in the artwork and in the unsettling chorus of the opener of the album I'm reviewing here, "A New Beat From a Dead Heart," is a fundamental part of the band's image, evidently giving significant emphasis to the religious current they belong/adhere to. The sound instead mainly resides on very aggressive and sharp hardcore coordinates, with powerful riffing and politicized and direct lyrics.

Hardcore that hits the mark, where it needs to hurt, not so much in the stratospheric speed (not that excessive, after all) but in the sharp guitar riffing of Vic Dicara, similar to that of seminal bands like Germs and Black Flag, with excellent production and pleasant sampled sounds added by the fifth member of the group, Mike/mOnster. The initial quartet leaves no escape or possibility of surrender and slides away pleasantly, only "Three Hundred Liars" slows down slightly and toughens the mood with an acidic guitar. "Resurrect to Destroy" is a true anthem with a truly compelling punk soul in its "ignorante" and direct chorus and its dirty and distorted pace. Another well-executed episode is "The Sad Truth", with Robert Fish's "spoken words" sharing his thoughts on instability, the sadness that surrounds us all in a gray and flavorless existence where it's good to keep in mind that there's always hope.

This track symbolically splits the album in two: from here on, the sound varies slightly, making the platter pleasant and varied. "My Redemption Song," in fact, sounds like a song from a hypothetical jam between Converge and Black Flag, as much as it annihilates the purely Converge-style start, while the guitar digression is so crooked and "twisted" that it seems to come from Greg Ginn's mind. The tracks are the bastard children of a sound with precise roots and elements of certain sonic sophistication, with tempo changes, slowdowns, and remarkable lacerating inserts (Bible+guns= the American dream? That's the glaring example). Out of context, "We Walk through Walls" assumes an almost Rastafarian tone, almost like a tribute to Bad Brains' "Rock for Light," while maintaining a certain "angry" and distorted vein.

In short, the guys have put together an album worthy of respect, which does not intend to blatantly reprise the roots from which they originate; what makes this last effort of theirs unique is having added a dose of contamination that spans from the reasoned noise experiments of the Melvins and Converge, even touching on certain Fugazi, in a Punk Hardcore context that, while not stylistically redefining anything, showcases itself so well that it has the credentials to attract those unfamiliar with these sounds.