Olympia/Seattle's Naomi Punk are at least partly inspired by their grunge forbearers. The genre's basic elements are well-represented: The sludgy erosion over the guitars, the drums blasting with machine-grade heaviness. Since the old formula goes "one part metal, two parts punk, and one part psychedelic weird shit," it's not a stretch by any means to consider Naomi Punk a grunge band. And while they're clearly a part of a long lineage of bands taking their influence from the Seattle rock scene of the early 1990s, Naomi Punk's songs are not cheaply manufactured recreations of Soundgarden or even TAD.
The Feeling, originally released on vinyl and now being issued by Captured Tracks digitally and on CD, captures the trio studying the grunge rulebook just to tear it in half. Naomi Punk's approach to grunge is one of deconstruction and rebuilding in different places with fewer parts. Most of the album's songs change tempos at the drop of flannel, breaking into a dense wall of meticulously controlled chaos. Guitars are not delivered with a steady stream of chords; they come in blasts along with the crash cymbal, often at irregular points in the song. There's almost a need to keep up with them rhythmically over the first few listens, because the phrasing of the chords and beats zig zag through a motley course, unintentionally using empty space as every bit the weapon their guitars and drums are.
Despite the grunge signifiers, Naomi Punk seem to be working under a template like slowcore, art-punk, or no wave played at half-speed. They've given themselves a narrow palette to work with in this sense, but The Feeling's funeral-march tempos and unrelenting heaviness don't detract from what makes the album compelling. Aside from three quasi-classical guitar interludes, the record comes packed top-to-bottom with total bruisers, and for most of its 35 minutes, the music is hitting you with pummeling force, every bit as visceral as your favorite punk album from this year. Most of the songs come with a cathartic breakdown of some sort, whether it's the rollicking finish of "Trashworld" or the chorus of "Burned Body".
Not only does The Feeling connect on a purely visceral level, it's got plenty of emotional resolve. For a band whose poppiest song's titled "Burned Body" and for all of the lyrics about charred flesh and self-immolation, Naomi Punk are good at injecting a bit of hope and optimism into their music. "I am the sun/ I am the shooting star" goes the opening lyric of "The Spell".
The title track takes that optimism and shoots it into anthemic territory. Playing out like the battle scene climax of your favorite war movie, "The Feeling" starts out scaling back to hold the tension, but rolls into explosion after explosion. The chorus, the sedate tease of the middle eight, and then the climax-- "And now I know that I can find a way"-- triumphantly rise above the din. Monolithic and seemingly impenetrable at first, The Feeling has a number of these moments, subtler details that offer plenty of rewards for whoever can stand being pummeled for almost 40 minutes.
