by Zachary Mercado (@ciaoguaglione)
“Learn to hate in the light of day,” is the refrain from the first track of Station Model Violence’s totemic, self-titled punk record. Right off the bat, the band parlays the stakes and tone of their work, grinning their teeth through a quarter smile, but not the gums; not all of their fleshy parts displayed at once.
Whether a subconscious or overt homage to the patriarchs of post-punk, a twelve string guitar intones unceasingly, familiarly, on “Learn to Hate.” Joy Division’s “Love Will Tear Us Apart”—with its clanging opening 12-string and prophetic 80s punk production—lures the listener for only so long before the synth hook snags on. The twelve string and driving beat on “Learn to Hate,” by contrast, announces that the melodic shifts and vocal cues of this record will not follow the simple rules the early 1980s. The payoff is just as satisfying as Joy Division’s impatient, early hook.
In a way, the tease at the beginning of Station Model Violence was foreshadowed by the length of this supergroup’s first single “Heat.” If you have the musical patience of a subway vaper, this record will not easily present itself to you. Its construction, sequencing, and shifts in tone, tempo, and instrumentation create a delightful melange of truly mature and rewarding experiments in post-punk. It ain’t waiting for you to catch up to the history in which it aligns itself.
With the hindsight of 40+ years of punk and British Rock (and Aussie and American… okay, whoever else claims it, respectfully), Station Model Violence understands and stirs in elements of jangle pop and sophistipop while never losing its righteous punk energy and moral core. And when Station Model Violence almost seems to trail off into genre-defiant, thematically uncharted territory on “Two Eyes For An Eye,” the album is brought back to its center on the superb, steady, and slightly muscular “Crepe Throne.”
However, these experiments in sound and soundscapes are what control the undeniable satisfaction this record gifts its listeners. There’s the Fripp-ean lead guitar on “Cliffs,” “Two Eyes for An Eye,” and “Heat;” driving sax on “Leisure,” and anarchic chaos on “Drip Away” and “Apex Calling.” The departure from the punk “script” on “Two Eyes For An Eye” delivers a unique message from and to the ever thriving historical guitar-based musical conversation.
Despite these disparate elements, the record never fully leaves its punk roots. Station Model Violence prove you can create something out of seemingly wandering quarks of musical history, while never leaving the core of your musical ethos. It’s deeply fulfilling and tastefully presented.
In the most satisfying way, this record rounds out itself with vocal, percussive, and kinetic power, dueling guitars and potent vocal delivery rising to peak punk wisdom on “Falling Down.” The listener will want those guitars to play on forever. And in some way, they do. Five seconds is not enough; keep it playing. Keep the musical dopamine clanging in the grey matter pleasure center. This is the guitar music we want to hear. This record evokes a feeling that doesn’t arise often enough, where the listener won’t want those guitars to fade out. That said, Station Model Violence will not only go down as one of the best punk records of the year, but probably of the decade.