by Torrey Proto
On their second full length, Chop Shop, you get the sense that there aren't many facets of every day life that Brooklyn punks Family Vision wouldn't tear apart with scathing takedowns amidst piercing shards of sheet metal guitars and polyrhythmic machine gun rhythms. They're fed up with the state of things but their anger comes from a place of love. Grounded by gritty realism and a sharp sense of melodic song craft and impeccable pacing, their latest record is a confident step into murky waters.
Chop Shop is an anxious and restless record full of dynamic hooks, elastic guitar interplay, haywire rhythmic chaos, and sharp social commentary that refuses to sit still. They tackle the myth of ethical consumerism on first single and opener "Raw Dirge." Vocalist and guitarist Kabir Kumar-Hardy deadpans cutting straightforward lines like "deboned, defanged / maybe it's humane / maybe it's fair trade," rising in intensity before hitting a boiling point with one of the record's most explosive choruses. "Citywide" deals with the increasingly uphill battle that is making music as a profession today. "Give us 50,000 dollars and we'll make a record!" Kumar-Hardy sneers, his eye roll practically audible.
Mid- album highlight "King of Birds" leads with a thick and satisfying bass groove courtesy of Jeremy Kleiman, while taking aim at the overwhelming death grip that trends and products have on us, making it difficult to live in the moment: "You hit the club and you don't dance, you don't wanna take the chance / You just wanna write a piece." The song gives way to the blast beats and shredding of “iKiss,” a full throttle attack on the pitfalls of dating in a plugged in world. The minute long hardcore adjacent track is jammed with some of Kumar-Hardy's most quotable sardonic one liners like, "it's OK we met online/ Echinacea / Soothe my sickness / I'll swipe left on state surveillance." Perfectly closing out the album with the satisfying exhale of the title track feels like a stroke of genius in sequencing. Kumar-Hardy's harmonies with Emma Bartley on the chorus provide a nice sigh of relief between the darting syncopated guitars and an uncharacteristically soft fade out to end the album.
Family Vision only ask that you look inward and avoid complacency. Their frantic but focused noise is so damn insistent and pulsing, it feels like a physical call to action and rejection of apathy. Expert mixing by drummer and producer Dan Howard gives every interlocking piece its space and allows the band's lyrical themes to shine through. In its mere 21 minute runtime, Chop Shop covers an otherworldly amount of ground. There's noise, there's gloom, there's humor, there's melody, and perhaps even something resembling joy or hope. For all of its righteous anger, the record never comes off as anything less than passionate and authentic. Its zig-zag structure and lively instrumentation create the sense that making it was a fun experience, with the group's musical camaraderie shining through for an infectious piece of art worthy of returning to.