by Abigail Miglorie (@abigailmiglorie)
Couch Slut, a band that definitively hails the spine-crunching noise rock dripping with beauty and angst, doesn’t fail to hold those emotionally draining truths in their latest LP, Contempt. There are a lot of bands that thrive on noise. Not only does noise rock become the facet of what “loudness” truly means, but also it’s a provocative attempt to uncover perhaps shaded truths and inner turmoil, pervasively screaming into your soul. The Brooklyn natives offer a beautiful attempt at those angst-ridden moments, covered by an increased tempo that builds and builds as the album progresses, telling a narrative that rises and falls.
Couch Slut eases you into their jagged edge throughout Contempt. It’s almost off-putting at first, opening with the dark "Funeral Dyke" transcending you into spearing vocals that evenly melt into muddy guitar chords holding the song together. The song slows about halfway through and hints at the explosion that is to come by way of Megan Osztrosits climatic vocals that sound like both a scream and a whimper. It’s distinct, and I can’t pretend to know what she's screaming, but the tension she releases seems to blend and compliment exactly what the band strives for; a tarnished edge, biting punk, perfectly measured to break the tethered ends.
Meanwhile, “Company Picnic With Dust Off” opens a little differently, giving the listener a snippet of those heart-striking edges the guitar elicits. Again Osztrosits doesn’t fail at teasing those cathartic moments—cutting through the general sludge that plasters the album—juxtaposing itself from the screaming guitar riffs in the scarring “Penalty Scar” that offers a prolonging fixation on the noise that screams from one track to the next.
In fact, “Snake In The Grass” might be the one track that sustains the same perspective while blending and embedding different elements into the band’s sound throughout the album. The song glides between Osztrosits' cathartic scream, uplifting you into the riffs that seem to combat the vocals, heighten, climax, fall, and then circles back up again. It’s not heavy but it’s not light, which I think reflects Couch Slut’s capability of preaching their provocative narrative by way of darkening chords that somehow offer a polarity of light and truth. “The Snake” slithers and glides – mirroring the band’s capability to bring you along the cathartic journey with them, setting a Godspeed pace for how the rest of the album unfolds into the swaggering sensation of riff punk that molds it’s way into the true darkness that masks the light they can see.
The band barely avoid the mundane sound of cathartic treasure by changing the pace as each track progresses. “Summer Smiles,” clocking in at almost nine minutes, chases and builds on the thematic notion of a thud. It begins with dark clonking that covers the hiss of the airy guitar, blending together the methodical and diabolic clunk the guitar unleashes. Soon, Osztrosits' vocals quietly sneak in, the music hushes and hisses, and the band unfolds exactly what they are capable of. The song is ever-advancing and harrows the intersection of despair and truth. “Summer Smiles” is at upmost technical, but it portrays the band’s ability to take it slow and unfold. Here the music screams. It speaks for itself without the company of Osztrosits' purgative lyrics, but when she does let go the music is right there with her.
The final tracks of the album follow and expand on that crystallized sensation of thudding darkness. In fact. the way the music tells the story is exactly what summarizes how I feel towards Contempt, getting louder and louder until Osztrosits can’t release anymore but the music tells. Her vocals simmer out towards the end of the album, and again “Folk Song” takes on “Summer Smiles” unfolding nature to let go by way of sound and loud clunking that thuds heavily on the heart.
Just as Osztrosits always does, she releases herself fully through the blend of the music throughout “Folk Song” but steps back enough to let the music tell the narrative (especially with the methodical beating of “Won’t Come”). Here we have the absolute heavy, brought out by perfect measure and hardcore grime. The song remains untamed and ghastly, a blackened facet that is quiet but perhaps the most deadly.
Whatever it is, Couch Slut rings true the complexity of dark metal and punk extremes of noise rock throughout Contempt. The music doesn’t just speak, it tells, meticulously revealing a part of the whole that unveils the general vileness the album spits while beautifully measuring intensity and subtleness. I think that’s what makes Couch Slut that noisy rock band that effectively holds together the grime and the dark with never-progressing but the ever-heightening tension that facilitates the story they tell.