Stalwarts on the New Zealand underground hardcore/punk scene now, Parents, come out with their first full length, a self-titled release in 12” format, which sees them taking their screamo/post-hardcore sound in the vein of bands such as Envy, Orchid and P. 99 and bringing in noticeable influences from post-punk and post-rock. Their recent live shows have been indicative of these changes, still retaining their ferocious punk energy while also exhibiting more meditative, brooding songs which build up into final, crushing crescendos. They have been able to encapsulate this diversity in their sound with amazing conciseness; sparse sonic landscapes are juxtaposed with claustrophobic, noisy freakouts…and yet most of the songs still barely touch the two-minute mark.
Photo courtesy of Stacey Robertson
The album opens with “Clear Path” which begins with chiming guitars, progressing into shoegaze-like walls of sound before breaking into cathartic squalls of noise as the band return to their primordial screamo sound. There is more than a little noticeable relevance in the naming of the song as the band seems to have come into themselves with this record, exhibiting a newfound sense of direction and self-confidence. The musicianship shows an amazing level of virtuosity and interplay, with textures being crafted by the guitar playing and the intricate polyrhythms the drummer brings into the mix, two elements which are constantly working with and against each other, complimented by the abrasive, high-pitched vocals. It is an album of stark contrasts, a coupling of the chaotic with the sublime which can’t help but bring to mind comparisons with this year’s post-black metal critical darlings, Deafheaven. In “Poison Rain” melodic, appreggiated licks sit alongside dissonant, angular riffs, flitting between the two with speedy precision. They show a willingness to experiment with their sound on “Bound,” which is laced with ambient sections and intricate polyrhythms in the drumming. Finally, album closer “Insight” is an impressing, emotive track, the song continuing to swell with tension which finally comes to a head in the epic finale of the song with vocalist Simon Oswald’s repeated refrains of “I’ll never, never be like you”- sure to be a crowd favourite for sing-alongs.
It’s hard to find much fault with this album, it’s daring without being pretentious, complex without feeling too labouring. Likely to be of one of this year’s most memorable local releases, it’s definitely one of mine. Eight thumbs up.
SLANDER 