Review: Under ‘What Happened In Roundwood’
Under… how do you begin to describe a band like the Stockport trio…? Described as everything from doom, sludge, avant-garde, to uneasy listening, they hold the accolade of being the first ever release from Salford’s own home of the molten riff, APF Records.
Formed around 2015, their first stab at an EP would attract the attention of APF, who would make their own foray into the label business with the debut album Slick in 2017.
Drawing comparisons to the likes of Fantômas, Melvins and Swans for their off-the-wall smörgåsbord that saw them smash moments of rock, prog, noise, and even indie sensibilities into something that sounds… well, like no other really.
As a reviewer, Under are the kind of act that could shred a thesaurus with their unique brand of heavy experimentation, and they would up their game on the following Stop Being Naive in 2018 and again in 2020 with the Training Resource #5 EP. Now, with just a split with Opium Lord breaking the silence, they bring the madness once more with their long-awaited third full-length What Happened In Roundwood.
Truthfully, I sat down to listen to this album for the first time at 6.30am with the first cup of coffee of the day and switched it off halfway through the opening track Tantrum with a decidedly firm, ‘Nope’. That’s not to say that it is bad, but Under are not for the unprepared as mentally, the band hit like a wrecking ball to the senses. The nagging, clawing, discordant notes scratch at the brain as multiple voices overlap and chant with delirious, bug-eyed intensity.
The tension feels like the track should explode, but it doesn’t, holding you in the grip of madness as the voices howl and stretch, feeling like it could fall apart at any moment. When they finally unleash a chugging riff, it is deep, rolling and teeters on insanity as they pull you between the song they could be writing and the song they are. Strap in, take your meds, it’s going to be a bumpy ride.
Second track Ma feels like something Steve Austin could have written for the latest Today Is The Day album. Slow and creeping with incidental atmospherics that slither up your spine and into your ear. The vocals are half spoken, half mantra and delivered in a manner that should be soothing, but frankly isn’t. One listen to this track, and it delivers the disturbing shivers in a manner that makes Marilyn Manson channelling Willy Wonka back in 1995 seem like a kids show.
The Alchemist feels like the band are settling into the album as the hypnotic pulse of the doom riffs lurch and ring in a slow groove. The faltering peace and the winding lead notes from Simon Mayo accent against the pounding of Andy Preece’s drums as lead vocalist Matt Franklin spits and hollers the lyrics. Far from straightforward, jarring lead notes skitter around and the woozy, multi-layered chorus chants like a nightmare funeral procession as eerie melodies flit by.
the potential to exhaust you, to frustrate you, to tease you and make you laugh, often within the same track…
Over the tribal rhythms of Isaac, Franklin gargles lyrics that are, as ever, laced with sardonic, black humour in a track that almost approaches conventional listening. Despite the noise-rock and off-kilter leanings, there are delicate melodies and a pulsing catchiness that are interspersed with the hardcore sounds and cavernous droning. This inventiveness adds weight to the crushing atmosphere and a sombre gravity to the tracks’ darker themes.
The first single, Escape Roundwood, shows that when the band want to, they can pen a tune that won’t send people running for the hills. The soft intro that cranks up the tension features beautiful, winding guitars and Franklin crooning like he’s channelling Mike Patton. Even when Under strain against convention, feeling like they are verging on madness, they show restraint, pulling back and teasing out the moment before the snarling malevolence creeps in to drag you under once more. The growling bass and staccato stabs simmer before the final act becomes a howl of heavy riffing and hoarse vocals.
The longest track, Rings, starts in a muted fashion. Drawn out and creeping with slow menace, the track meanders with a slick pace, Franklin’s voice frail and vulnerable as the music tumbles around him in a freeform, jazz-like composition. As his strangled proclamations grow in urgency and intensity, the cymbals rattle and piano keys crash, highlighting Under at the peak of making the listener bristle with discomfort.
Roots And Limbs is a(nother) strange track that almost comprises two halves. The first is a drawn-out instrumental soundscape of shifting proportions that moves from almost still quiet to dramatic orchestral stings. The latter is a more powerful writhing workout that is joined by barked vocals and spiralling climaxes.
The final entry won’t disappoint those drawn to the band’s unique sense of weirdness. Contorting with style, the pounding rhythm of Felling and the throaty roars are backed by cycling guitar runs before the sharp left turn into a System of a Down polka. The more the track progresses, the more unhinged it becomes to the point where it is insane fret runs, squalling effects and frenetic fills, like they have finally buckled under the weight of madness until they collapse into a harmonious sigh.
There are a few truly unique bands these days, bands that truly try and push the envelope with no corporate cynicism glinting in their eye but make noise to push your emotional reactions. Without doubt, Under are one of a kind. They have the potential to exhaust you, to frustrate you, to tease you and make you laugh, often within the same track.
What Happened Under Roundwood isn’t going to be a radio-friendly unit shifter; it is too dark, too gleefully weird to touch the mainstream, and I suspect that’s the way they like it.
Label: APF Records
Band Links: Facebook | Bandcamp | Spotify | Instagram
Scribed by: Mark Hunt-Bryden
