Between Atlanta and Athens, Northern Georgia historically has a knack for churning out some truly freaky, funky acts that can create and innovate outside the claustrophobic East Coast hype bubble. Atlanta quintet Warehouse have existed in this world since first meeting in part at elementary school and then in full years later at Georgia State University. Less than a year after forming, they were receiving recognition from notable local Bradford Cox, who told Pitchfork that one of his best moments of 2013 was “Seeing the band Warehouse play live: They are a new cool young art-punk group from Atlanta. They evoke Pylon but are very much doing their own thing.” Those outside of Atlanta were able to hear what he meant once Warehouse quietly self-released their first album, Tesseract, in 2014. Tesseract’s complex-but-pleasing harmonies quickly caught the eye of blooming Brooklyn label Bayonet and in 2015 it was re-released as a cassette for the masses to consume.
super low is Warehouse’s sophomore effort, taking the strengths of its predecessor and building on them like the Robert Rauschenberg works they mention as inspiration. Like Rauschenberg’s thick collages, Warehouse’s reliance on improvised collaboration results in gems buried amongst their dischord. Ben Jackson and Alex Bailey are responsible for laying each track’s foundation with twisting, jangly guitars, then bassist Josh Hughes and drummer Doug Bleichner add subtle, but strong, flourishes. Finally, there’s the voice of Elaine Edenfield, which stretches and snaps like a rubber band, scratches like Janis Joplin’s howl, and, occasionally, sinks to a mournful murmur. It’s Edenfield’s voice that elevates Warehouse beyond that vague, empty label of “art-punk” and fills them with accessible emotion.
super low opener “Oscillator” kicks things off with a groovy reverie. Immediately after “Oscillator” ends, Edenfield rips into “Exit Only,” her voice seesawing between a commanding rasp and a disheartened mutter. All the while, the instruments are marathoning behind her, remaining in tight conversation that manages to sound effortless. “Audrey Horne,” a clear reference to the sassy “Twin Peaks” character, jumps back and forth between opposites, both in terms of the contrasting tight shredding and loose breaks and lyrically: “Like the prefix and the suffix/There is a before and an after/And it is not here nor there.” Penultimate track “Modifier Analog” chugs along in a similarly composed fashion as the rest of super low but its concluding Broadcast-like swirling breakdown destroys any feelings of monotony before the album gets too comfortable.
super low’s biggest banger is “Simultaneous Contrasts,” a growling track about disparities that surfs down the guitar neck to ride a quick riff. “You and I/We come from separate worlds,” Edenfield groans before hiccuping “The fevered eyes/They’re ruining my life.” The so-called “fevered eyes” float through super low like ghosts in addition to images of purgatory and fading away. The undercurrent of super low is that of loss, a supreme feeling of heartache. The title track reaches a place of resolution, “I can’t destroy the things/They keep me alive/And I can’t destroy the things/That lead to where you lie.” Shortly after, “Reservoir” continues to search for control in a relationship amidst tragedy. Originally intended to be a simple love song a la Belle and Sebastian, “Reservoir” instead results in a difficult embrace of reality—in its own way, it’s more romantic than any traditional ballad. Edenfield chokes through reassurances like “And when all your smoke and veils fall/I am with you/And never leaving” and “I can tell we’re heading towards the apex/Or the end/And either way/It will be fine.”
Warehouse surpass any art-punk labeling through careful, deliberate construction and vulnerability. While some might feel that their complex melodies become a little repetitive, I urge you to listen closer and find the devil in the details. They have planted many careful embellishments just below the surface, and if you find them, it will make glorious sense out of their chaos.
