For fans of  Gang of Four, Iceage, Radkey
Singles to download ‘Amber Veins,’ ‘Opaque’

One thing you should know about Eagulls before you listen to their self-titled debut album is that they probably don’t care if you like it or not. Like just about any commercial market, the music industry is a game, and these Leeds based post-punk up-and-comers aren’t playing. They made that very clear back in January of last year when they posted a vulgar note to their blog that attacked basically every aspect of the music business. It ranted against everyone from music journalists to “the type of people who take drugs yet have never met a drug dealer.”

Even by punk standards, the note is an utterly obscene statement against the politics and pretentiousness of the industry. The note almost cost the band a career-shaping set at SXSW, but it did make one thing very clear: these guys call it how they see it.

Although George Mitchell grew up crowd surfing with skinheads at NOFX concerts, his own music is missing that sense of blind fury that is associated with hardcore punk. Rather than imitating the deeply political lyrics of the hardcore bands he grew up listening to, Mitchell cites the likes of David Bowie and The The as his lyrical influences. The ten tracks on “Eagulls” are undeniably angry, but it is more of a precise, melodic anger than the temper tantrum of aggression that is often associated with the genre. This is a punk record to the core, but it cuts far deeper than screams and ferocious double-bass-pedal percussion lines.

Mitchell crafts anthemic ballads from the most infuriating elements of his everyday life. “Amber Veins” is about the heroin dealer who moved in next-door to his mother.  It describes the coming and going of addicts trading laundry machines for a fix in the middle of the night. Short, fragmented lyrics like “Possessions pawned / Prickles of thorns/ Plucked-open pains/ False and forsworn/ Forgetting all” feel like actual needle pricks. A guitar repeats stabbing eighth notes, neither building nor receding as the song moves from verse to chorus. It is a hopeless account of the monotony of the lowest of the low.

Eagulls have sculpted a remarkably subtle tone that does not always reveal itself on the first listen. Mitchell hides the darkest narrative on the record in the most uplifting song. Upon first listen, the album’s penultimate track, “Opaque” sounds like a feel-good jam. The band disguise a disturbing account of a sexual predator in swelling guitars and cheery melodies that come about as close to being poppy as Eagulls ever have. It’s like Mitchell is dangling the truth in front of your eyes as he sings “The truth’s opaque” over and over again. Just like a sexual predator, the darkness is hiding in plain sight.

“Eagulls” is not a judgment-free zone. Mitchell plays the role of the silent observer with a little black notebook: taking note of anything and anyone that pisses him off. The album is a spotlight on the scumbags hiding behind the humdrum of daily life. The tone is nuanced and complex but the point is surprisingly simple: these guys aren’t pulling any punches.

By Derek Schwartz