by Benji Heywood (@benjiheywood)
Content warning: this album and its review contain references to sexual assault
There exists a paradox within all binary systems. Take zero and one. In practice, this binary is the basis for all code. Yet it’s not that simple. Theoretical mathematics reveals the existence of infinity, an unquantifiable yet very real something that not only exists at some vast distance but also within the binary system of zero and one. The existence of infinity is the paradox; a number that doesn’t behave like one. Subtract one from one and you get zero. Add one to zero and you get one. Yet add or subtract one from infinity and you still have infinity.
Róisín Nic Ghearailt – the charismatic singer of UK/Ireland’s M(h)aol (pronounced male) – grapples with the binary paradox throughout the band’s debut album Attachment Styles. On “Bisexual Anxiety,” the album’s moral center, Ghearailt describes the impossibility of squaring such systems as they relate to gender and sexuality. Over a wash of menacing feedback, the listener gets the brass tacks, “I shouldn’t have to do anything for you to accept me,” she says coolly, “but not doing anything feels like a betrayal to no one but myself.”
Attachment Styles is that anything, a noisy, biting evisceration of binary patriarchal culture that crackles with a deep unease disguised as sardonic wit. It’s hard not to start with an examination of the album’s lyrical content because it’s so visceral, but the music – a delicious take on post-punk that’s part Gila Band, part Spray Paint, and all M(h)aol – is equally compelling, a combustible congregation of disjointed guitars and dislocated rhythms recorded almost entirely live in the band’s rehearsal space. Consider the chaos at the conclusion of “Nice Guys” or the fuzzy squawks that open “No One Ever Talks to Us” – each reflect the same deep-seeded rage simmering just beneath the album’s surface.
It's hard to begrudge the band – comprised of Ghearailt, Constance Keane, Jamie Hyland, Zoe Greenway, and Sean Nolan – such a snarl. After all, M(h)aol’s music is a response to a system that’s long minimized those who don’t traditionally identify themselves as one thing or its opposite. Throughout the album’s vibrant, punchy ten songs, the band dismantles the male gaze, throws shade at supposed nice guys who only want one thing, and espouses the sublimity of not fitting in, all while making a charming racket. You see, despite all its bones-to-pick, Attachment Styles is joyous. The album-closing “Period Sex” is downright jubilant in its invitation of cunnilingus. “I'm not saying it's right or wrong,” coos Ghearailt over a disco-punk drum break, funky bass, and swirling guitar. “All I'm saying when it's that time of the month I want to get it on.” Because the band is enjoying themselves, it permits enjoyment in the listener, too.
There is a darker undercurrent, however. Ghearailt is masterful at subverting conventional systems in her lyrics, but at what price did she have to pay to become the artist she is? Attachment Styles takes a frank look at the sexual violence perpetrated on women, pointing out both the absurdity of the dominant victim-blaming explanation of rape in “Asking for It” and the horrifying toll such actions extract in “Therapy.” The accompanying video for “Asking for It,” directed by bassist Zoë Greenway, begins with the staggering, heartbreaking statistics of rape and sexual assault: 1 in 4 women and 1 in 10 men have been raped, while 29% of female students, 28% of nonbinary students and 10% of male students have been sexually assaulted.
Yet the music of “Asking for It” is positively buoyant, with an opening Kim Deal bass line that bounces back and forth over stomping drums, enveloped by guitars mimicking the sound of a stylus being dragged slowly across a vinyl record. If that doesn’t sound pleasant, it surprisingly is. Here, Ghearailt’s vocals are playful and snide, sarcastically copping to being a “dumb bitch” that “left the party with you.” The brightness of the music and Ghearailt’s delivery operate in contrast to the song’s traumatic subject material creating an effective juxtaposition that intensifies the song’s meaning.
This makes the cynical listener despair. If such an approach – one drenched in irony – is the only way to get a message this crucial, this damning across to an audience that traditionally has both fingers in its ears when it comes to issues of gender and sexuality, if that’s the case, you’d be tempted to conclude it’s already too late to change things. For all M(h)aol’s sturm und drang, Attachment Styles is a canary in a coal mine that’s already collapsed.
Luckily that doesn’t seem to be M(h)aol’s view. Like the best protest music, Attachment Styles champions a positivity sorely needed when confronting the darkest parts of human nature. Says M(h)aol via the album’s press release, “The record is about social connection, queerness, and healing.” Listening to the album, it’s clear that Attachment Styles is meant as a celebration of difference, a statement of hope. The music aims to evoke catharsis and healing, not capitalize on tragedy.
This comes across both in the video for “Asking for It” – which highlights available resources and services for victims – and the album’s music. It’s hard not to smile when listening to “Kim Is a Punk Type Dog” or shout “amen” when listening to Ghearailt’s exasperation with a culture seemingly incapable of moving on from male-centric discussions on “Bored of Men.” The noise-rock aspect of the band functions as point and counterpoint. Distortion and feedback symbolize a tearing down of existing structures while simultaneously representing the freedom that can be found in escaping the societal prison of binary thinking. If this is all sounding a bit dialectic, that’s the point. The rigidity of our approach to gender and sexuality is at the core of the problem. M(h)aol’s music acts like a stent in a calcifying artery, loosening the plaque and allowing new, life-bringing blood to flow.
While it’s refreshing that M(h)aol have already enjoyed critical acclaim for their Gender Studies EP – Attachment Styles should further propel them into the cultural zeitgeist – the band’s existence is its own paradox. On one hand, Attachment Styles will be a musical highlight of 2023, one that conveys a message of positivity and healing. On the other, Ghearailt began writing songs to cope with a culture that told her she was little more than a sex object – “no one ever talks to us unless they want to fuck.” Hopefully, Attachment Styles will inspire us to be better, to be kinder to ourselves and others, and move past our obsession with zeros and ones, good and evil, black and white. The beauty of life is the paradox.