by James Grimshaw (@jimgrimshank)
Waste Man have moved. Originally mainstays of the NOLA noisy scene, this tight-punk trio have made the move to NYC – and have a brand-new EP to show for it. The EP, a self-titled three-track venture out on Feel It Records, is a re-positioning of its own, re-stating the central premise of their heavy-hypnotic sound, with a new framework and a laser-focus on what makes them special.
Generally speaking, Waste Man’s oeuvre is an outward ode to the left-field hardcore, punk and no-wave of the late 70s and 80s; their own liner notes for their 2021 sophomore album One Day It’ll All Be You cite formative punk label SST’s roster as a major influence. Just as they carry comparisons to OGs like Meat Puppets and Minutemen well, there are contemporary analogues against which Waste Man’s angular sensibilities sit well. Fidlar is an obvious, trite and even staid comparison; if continuing to indulge in reductive sounds-like comparison, there is something more of Waste Man’s relentlessness, inevitability and even fatalism in the likes of Meat Wave and Pile.
The EP is a fresh development from the sheer freneticism of Waste Man’s 2010s releases, with static-y guitar distortion dialled down in service of a clearer, more expressive sound altogether. It is a development, too, from One Day It’ll All Be You, as bootleg-tape high end and blown-out thrift-store compression is tamed in favour of a deeper, dynamic kind of weight. Plucky bass and surf-adjacent muted guitar together explode into chime-y, propulsive chorus, and space is thrillingly created through addition over subtraction.
The agile riffs and relentless tempo carry through, though, and second track “Changes” particularly delights in this regard. Drums and dynamics modulate around a central, essential bass riff that runs the whole thing through. Across the EP, the vocals are at once abrasive and nourishing – a cool drink of fizzy water, spilt and effervescing over everything. There’s a hint of Wu Lyf to be found here, particularly in the weary, hoarse, near-curdled yells on closing track “White Horse”.
Speaking of which, Waste Man is only halfway done halfway through “White Horse” – a ‘six-minute plus jam’ that features none other than Pissed Jeans’ Sean McGuinness on ‘auxiliary percussion’. The Pissed Jeans connection makes abundant sense, and not just because of their recent shows together in Philadelphia and NYC; Waste Man are a new iteration, occupying similar space and responding to that same initial, essential impulse. “White Horse” sits in opposition to the brief, explosive jolts that are EP openers “Luck Merchant” and “Changes,” bringing new textures, a slower pace and a contemplative edge. That propulsive element remains in force, and compels you to stay leaned-in and inches from the speakers to the very end.
The Waste Man EP is a brief, exhilarating glimpse into a new era for Waste Man. It is a fresh iteration of that same raw punky-heavy sound; a new direction for a new home. Waste Man both demands and deserves your full attention for its all-too-brief runtime.