Cardiacs
Sing to God

Punk and Progressive are probably the two most polar opposite genres in rock: no punk band would ever dare to add to their three straight and furious distorted chords the meticulousness of an odd break, an absurd phrase played in unison, or the reprise of a theme with ever-changing styles; similarly, no progressive musician—obliged to pay for their guitar lessons and therefore eager to show the world their impeccable technique—would ever dream of muddying their compositions by pushing the speed and volume of the pieces to the extreme, distorting and infuriating everything, from the guitars to the vocals, from the obbligatos to the compound time signatures...

Well, the absolute genius of the Cardiacs is expressed precisely in this: Tim Smith—born 1961—singer-guitarist and main songwriter of the band since 1977, is one of those thinking minds that uphold the Zappa-like concept of "absolutely free." Growing up loving equally Gentle Giant, Gong, Van Der Graaf Generator of Peter Hammill, and the nascent punk and then wave movement, Tim and his Cardiacs managed to combine the two styles, ever since their 1988 debut "A man and a house and the whole world window," containing their most famous single "Is this the life?"

"Sing to God," from 1996, is their fifth studio album, and is probably the Cardiacs' masterpiece, a double CD that collects the best of Tim's songwriting, assisted in a few songs by guitarist Jon Poole. The beauty is that Tim insists on simply calling them "tunes," melodies, catchy tunes to hum like perfect pop-songs, despite the endless chord changes, as in "Dirty boy", a guitar ballad that in its eight minutes grows epically until it reaches a climax of solely voices that is simply chilling. In "Dog-like Sparky", our guys have fun continuously shifting the beat forward and backward in the verses before entering a chorus that calling it slippery is as unconventional as it is true, four different choruses in a row, just like that, without breaks. "Angleworm angel" is an almost hardcore punk piece that despite the beat cuts and octave jumps pushes and would even make the most motivated Tibetan monk mosh. The cut-and-paste solo of "Fiery-Gun hand" is another stroke of genius, fragments of solos played everywhere on the guitar mixed together to form a virtually unplayable structure before falling into a sequence of stop-and-go true Zappa school circa 1974, but with the distortion pedal maxed out, and with a thousand notes escaping in all directions, straight, then crooked, then odd, then re-harmonized again... All this without the pretense of showing off any technique, behind there is indeed the desire to surprise the listener, but also the idea of pushing forward the limit of the absurd as much as possible. I'll stop here, even though the crazy and acid-tripping Queen-like chorus of "Insect hooves on Lassie" and the killer riff of "Nurses whispering verses" are two more highlights of an imposing album.

Having seen them live in 2007 in London, I can also add that these pieces are played with disarming ease, and that in the end, they reach the audience as if they were playing the Polysics multiplied by a thousand, or System of a Down, but English and half drunk. In the end, as happens every time one tries to introduce a cult and therefore almost unknown band, I don't know whether to be happy or not—but actually, deep down, I hope so—if this review will bring a few more fans to the most inventive and free band of all time.

And I've said it all.