by Charlie Bailey (@hectic_skeptic)
“S.C.I.M.N.,” the instrumental opening track off Monarch Joy, the new LP from Buffalo, New York’s Science Man, summons a beast of an album that grabs ahold of you and swings you around by loose limbs for a wildly unpredictable, high-octane 17-minute ride. The hardcore punk-rock outfit continue to amalgamate genres and bend them to their will, birthing a uniquely organic post-apocalyptic sound.
Imagery abound, the album is accompanied by an inseparable visual identity complemented by video work from John Toohill and Lindz Tripp. Part one of a three-part visual short film series attached to Monarch Joy is out now; a standalone project in its own right that is both corresponding to and independent of the new album. Featuring soundtracking from the Monarch Joy track list as well as papier-mâché, stop motion, derelict sci-fi symbolism, and pure DIY madness, the full short film is soon to come.
Lyrically, Toohill subverts the genre standard by opting for a lot of indirectness in his writing, relying on hard-hitting metaphorical symbolism. The result is poetic, shapeshifting songs that evoke fittingly surrealistic imagery. Every track is otherworldly in its own right, but surprisingly strongly linked to the modern psyche, subconscious, and the critiquing of power structures.
Heavily tied to the physical evolution and devolution, the album ends up being very corporeal and centrally linked to this idea of body, flesh, and parasites. On “Animals,” a bluntly broken up track composed on one and two word lines, Toohill shouts “dripping cocks / endangered brains / animals / failures of nature / errors of god.” These gross, derelict images are drawn, loathing the excuse of animalistic nature. Or on “Lesser Species,” an almost Mickey 17-like track, sees humans consuming intelligent, extraterrestrial creatures sparing them from a life of subjugation.
Monarch Joy is truly a chemistry experiment gone so wrong it's right. A liberating piece beyond conventions, beyond logical thought, and a pointed direction for a larger, conceptual picture that creates something enigmatically powerful and insanely fun to listen to all at once. Science Man have evolved into an unpredictable pulsating beast, expanding and contracting at instantaneous moments of combustion filled with blends of classic rock-esque solos, jazz-like improvisation, climbing and descending scales. Monarch Joy finds them carving out their own niche in hardcore, sticking to the roots of the genre while propelling it forward at a rapidly distorted rate. It’s hard to fathom that a project this aggressive and bleakly dystopian is such a cathartic, convivial listen.