by Corey Sustarich
It took moving to the West Coast from the Midwest and back for me to understand the unique pleasure of a band like Disq. Unfettered by the rat race of trendy music that exists in a constant state of packaging and repackaging the outright boring and the just-different-enough, Collector follows a natural arc instead of a backbreaking bend toward a preconceived genre. Disq wears their influences on their sleeve, sure, but it’s wet to the shoulder with eclecticism because they’re not pulling from an overfished and shallow pool.
Sometimes Neil Young, sometimes something new and furious, Disq has released a collection of songs that could be reminiscent of three or four different bands if not for DeBroux-Slone’s emblematic vocals, deep and sweet. Though young, the members of Disq have the mature understanding of simplicity. Sly awareness of their environment, music history, and pop structure serves up the clever lyrics to “D19,” a love song to a broke down dynamic microphone. “Loneliness” takes the lyrical cake as a classic tribute to and rail against solitude. It’s simple, it rhymes, and it is innately human in its expression of loss. The melodies bounce around in your head, thudding vibrant.
Three guitars punch out punk chords that curve their synchronicity into noise on “Daily Routine.” Power pop coils around the hilt of post-punk on “I’m Really Trying” and “Gentle.” A splash of psych foams out of “I Wanna Die” and fizzes away to the sixties-sounding acoustic guitar of “Drum In.”
Simply put, Disq made a collection of bangers that teeters between just plain cool and budding experimentation. They chose the songs they knew were going to get stuck in your head and rumble through your muscles and make them smile while they play them. This is a new version of their vision. It’s democratic and co-owned. It’s great and it’s lasting.