There were multiple points throughout the last decade where it looked like UK indie rock might end up forever stuck in a post-punk loop. Fortunately amidst the familiarity of this latest revival, a crop of young bands went in the opposite direction; jettisoning post-punk’s wiry, pared-down approach in favour of something more ornate, progressive and grandiose.
This thrilling new branch of UK ‘indie’ (if there’s any meaning left in that ageing term) took on myriad shapes, from the resplendent melodrama of Black Country, New Road to the bad trip mania of Black Midi. These ambitious, forward-thinking bands served as welcome evidence that alternative rock music had yet to wholly capitulate to retro revivalism – and Man/Woman/Chainsaw are a quintessential product of this genre-busting era.
Few debuts are as simultaneously bold and accessible as ‘Eazy Peazy’. The likes of ‘Ode to Clio’, which swells from gentle embers to a finale inferno, throws rock music’s familiar structuring out the window, whilst retaining a firm sense of internal logic. Closer ‘EZPZ’ offers a more brute force example, maintaining a gripping intensity across three minutes of intricate and constantly shifting orchestral heaviness.
The band’s fusion of grand strings and pianos with more traditional, riff-based rock chaos is a broad success. ‘Sports Day’ contains one or two ideas too many, with the orchestral melodies erring close to unnecessary cacophony. Elsewhere, however, this OTT approach works with impressive elegance; see the simple but potent violin motif that recurs throughout ‘Ode to Clio’ and the interlocking strings and keys that arrive with immaculate precision midway through ‘The Boss’.
This instrumental melange reflects Man/Woman/Chainsaw’s ultra-contemporary, post-ironic lyrical voice. Like the internet-dominated culture in which they were raised, the band smash through the traditional boundaries that separate irony and sincerity, tilting from arch but soulful school memories of ‘Sports Day’ to the abstract literary musings of ‘Ode to Clio’ (“sprawled across my kitchen floor / she’s only arms and legs / her limbs like hairs / spread out starfish”).
Crucially, these metamodern tonal jumps possess real emotional power, matching the musical bravura. ‘Eazy Peazy’ practically fizzes with youthful energy and the possibilities of musical creation. It’s raw and throws everything in its sizeable arsenal at the wall, however, basically everything sticks. The resulting effort’s audacious energy is a sight to behold and whips with enough force to spin your head clean off your shoulders.
