Review: Backengrillen ‘Backengrillen’
Sweden’s most famous hardcore punk band, Refused, consistently demonstrated an unquenchable thirst for destruction and distraction, a spirit that seemed undiminished until their fifth and final album, War Music, not counting their two cassette-only recordings from 1992. Throughout their tumultuous career, marked by both soaring highs and challenging lows, the Umeå quartet has embodied an unwavering resilience, never truly refusing to give up even when facing dissolution.
At the very heart of their powerful sound, beyond the blistering riffs and raw energy, lies a profound lyrical core, serving as the primary vehicle for their uncompromising message. These lyrics have consistently functioned as a sharp, incisive blade, courageously spewing out the unvarnished facts in their vehement opposition to governmental corruption, imperialist ambitions, fascist ideologies, and systemic racism. This steadfast commitment to social and political critique solidifies Refused‘s legacy, not merely as a punk band but as an enduring voice of dissent whose convictions have remained fiercely intact across decades.
But, alas, every band, no matter how seemingly indestructible, inevitably confronts a pivotal turning point in its career, a moment of redefinition that Refused masterfully navigated by transforming into the audacious new entity known as Backengrillen. During their South American tour, frontman Dennis Lyxzén delivered the surprising announcement that Refused was no more. While the new band would have retained much of its core, a significant shift saw guitarist Mattias Bärjed replaced by the legendary Swedish session saxophonist Mats Olof Gustafsson, whose formidable collaborations span from Peter Brötzmann to Sonic Youth, signalling an immediate departure from the familiar.
The genesis of Backengrillen was remarkably swift, forged in a mere three days of intense studio improvisation, a raw and naked process devoid of overdubs that birthed a sound both visceral and otherworldly. This chaotic creation manifested as extreme noise charged with an overflowing doom ‘death’ jazz, a visceral sonic landscape described by Lyxzén as ‘a hymn to chaos and destruction’ – a direct lineage to Refused‘s aggressive spirit, now intensified by heartbreaking cries and the transformative addition of Gustafsson‘s saxophone.
Receiving the advance copy from Svart Records last November, I was struck by Refused‘s audacious musical metamorphosis, witnessing their hardcore roots evolve into something profoundly darker and bastardly visceral, a seismic shift that hit them with the force of a bolt from the blue. This fearless reinvention proves that even in apparent endings, true artistic spirit can forge an even more compelling and impactful beginning.
takes you into a sonic realm of death doom jazz unlike any you’ve ever heard…
Getting back to the facts, the first track, A Hate Inferior, unfolded with an immediate, haunting resonance that promised a journey into the depths. The opening moments brought a deadly, calm drumbeat, echoing a sombre village procession, that slowly but surely established a gloomy rhythm, instantly accompanied by a dark saxophone wail that intertwined with indecipherable words screamed from Lyxzén‘s lungs, spreading a palpable fear into every corner of my mind.
Visceral distortion boosts this haunting soundscape, creating a penetrating and deeply unsettling symphony, capable of irresistibly drawing you into its eerie musical atmosphere. Gustaffson, a master of his craft, doesn’t just play the saxophone; he kills it, making it cry and bleed to the last drop, his own lungs gasping in a harrowing performance. This track is their haunting statement that takes you into a sonic realm of death doom jazz unlike any you’ve ever heard, and one that leaves an indelible mark.
The second track, Dör för långsamt (Dying Too Slowly), is a powerful piece whose impact profoundly shifts with the listener’s mood, from anguished introspection to a stark confrontation with uncomfortable reality. It begins with a passionate, suffocating, almost breathless flute sound, eerily reminiscent of Jethro Tull’s Jon Anderson, which immediately drew me into its core. What follows is a descent into a dark, piercing, and chilling atmosphere, propelled by heavy yet slow drums and a visceral sax cry, as Lyxzén frantically screams the titular ‘Dör för långsamt,’ deliberately eschewing any light at the end of this musical tunnel.
However, a brief respite arrives with Repeater II, a track that, judging by its sonic qualities, could well be an homage to Fugazi’s Repeater album, offering a soothing counterpoint to the preceding darkness. Yet this serves merely as an interlude, a moment to calm down my anxiety, because the subsequent closing tracks, Backengrillen and Socialism Or Barbarism, are uncompromising in their assault. Their sound is piercing with a heavy experimental driving force, pounding, and imbued with a deadly jazz drunkenness, a dark declaration of war that demands working minds for stabilisation.
Musical serenity is entirely absent from their credo; instead, they brought out a record whose music is purposefully engineered to inflict fear and ignite a powerful desire for mental upheaval and profound distraction. This is music delivered by the musicians’ darkest thoughts, refusing to settle into any comfortable groove. It consistently challenges the listener with dynamic shifts from deep despair to haunting euphoria, ensuring a deeply impactful experience that continues to linger long after the final note has faded.
Label: Svart Records
Band Links: Bandcamp
Scribed by: Domenico ‘Mimmo’ Caccamo
