by Krishan Meepe (@krishanye)
It’s hard to know where to start with Snapped Ankles. The London based four piece are a group of forest folk descended from trees, signed to the eclectic ‘Leaf Label’ and hide their faces behind masks and ghillie suits. Forest of Your Problems’ cover sports what I can only guess is a log cutting hooked up to alligator clips, seemingly a makeshift synth device.
Aesthetics aside, Snapped Ankles still make music that’s accessible enough it’ll get stuck in your head whether you like it or not. Teeming with nature references, it’s obvious the group is talking about the environment on these songs, but what their exact message is can be hard to decipher. At times, they seem conflicted, still learning and open to exploring what can be done, though, it is certain that something needs to be done. They have made clear their anxieties about the relentless destruction of our planet’s ecosystems, but the hard work of overthrowing our capitalist oppressors and remaking a society that won’t kill our entire species is well outside of the scope of Forest of Your Problems. Those are your problems. For Snapped Ankles, “Rhythm is our business, and it’s time, to get down, to business!”
We might all have a part to play in addressing the climate crisis, but I for one am more than happy to let Snapped Ankles provide the soundtrack to dance as weirdly as you want. Limbs flailing in anxious frustration, losing consciousness of the singularity of selfhood and melding with the sweaty weirdos around you, truly may help the environment in some roundabout kind of way. Listening to this record makes you believe so anyway. Despite the disparate sound palate, off-kilter synth musings, and frivolous lyricism, these songs undeniably groove. I have no idea who the prince is, or why he is back, but every time “The Prince Is Back” comes on, my body starts to move all by itself. The solid-as-fuck rhythm section allows the band to go where they please, just like krautrock greats Can did fifty years ago, and it’s reassuring to hear bands who can still do it with gusto.
The whole record progresses with a fluidity rarely heard in the streaming age, knowing when you need to breathe, and when you need to have fun. That’s really what they do best, this is fun music. Their message might be serious, but they don’t take themselves too seriously. There’s a little post-punk flavor à la Gang of Four, a little pop madness à la Animal Collective, but mostly, it’s just fucking cool.