One of the creepiest things about the late Unwound was when singer/guitarist Justin Trosper—perhaps possessed by some perverse sense of pop loyalty—would stop either mumbling or screaming just long enough to sing pretty. His voice itself isn’t the most attractive sound imaginable. At best it’s a utilitarian moan, a means to a purgative end. But that struggle between abuse and euphony could be, at times, unsettlingly sweet. Loose Power, the debut album by Trosper’s new band, Survival Knife, is not a traditional pop-rock record by anyone’s definition. But it is the closest he’s ever come to making anything remotely like one, and that overt love of the classics adds a wholesome swagger to an otherwise gnarled clutch of rock songs.
Trosper isn’t the only Unwound alumnus in Survival Knife. Unwound’s original drummer, Brandt Sandeno—who only appears on that group’s earliest material, recently collected as Kid Is Gone—has rejoined Trosper, only this time partnering up on guitar. Bassist Meg Cunningham and drummer Kris Cunningham round out the roster, and it’s telling that Trosper has amassed a full quartet this time, as opposed to the gaunt trio that was Unwound. Instead of being a shambling wreck of anemic noise, Loose Power is a well-fed, red-blooded specimen. And a tuneful one. The unapologetically catchy choruses of “Divine Mob” and “Fell Runner” positively soar, even as the sparring riffs of Trosper and Sandeno refuse to play nice. Pouring post-punk choppiness into stomping hooks, “Gold Widow” leaves just enough room for Trosper’s newfound sneering croon. Not to mention a tangle of metallic guitar harmony that nests neatly inside a thunderous Black Sabbath vibe.
At seven songs, Loose Power seems at first glance like a brief album. But two songs, “Cut the Quick” and “Heaven Has No Eyes”, exceed eight minutes each—and it’s here that Survival Knife sinks closer toward the brooding Unwound mood of old. In particular, the sparse, dissonant jangle that opens “Cut the Quick” could have come straight out of Unwound’s Fake Train or New Plastic Ideas, only here it thickens into a chugging confessional that concludes with—of all things—a distinctly Zeppelin-esque acoustic coda. “Heaven Has No Eyes”, on the other hand, doesn’t make the best use of its playing time, opting instead to limp along on a contorted prog-punk jam that takes far to long to reach its destination.
That jam, though, is telling. Trosper has never hid his love for vintage Black Flag—he once served time in a side project called Young Ginns—and that worship of Greg Ginn’s alternately needling and plodding hard-rock/hardcore hybrid is the subtext to almost every squealing chunk of Loose Power. “Roman Fever” borrows a telltale, descending lick from Black Flag’s “Drinking and Driving”; “Loose Power” overcomes Trosper’s biggest lyrical flop (“My twin towers/ Your twin towers”) by melding the cocksure conventionality of Black Flag’s most catchy and accessible album, Loose Nut, with the bluesy, serpentine proto-punk of the Stooges’ Raw Power. Summing up Loose Power as a shotgun marriage between Black Flag’s Loose Nut and the Stooges’ Raw Power might be way too tidy. Still, it’s hard not to. And it doesn’t detract from the fact that Trosper has found a fascinating new way forward: one that mangles then mingles his punk and classic-rock influences while melodically subverting his own accomplishments in Unwound. It ain’t exactly pretty, but it’s a little less ugly.
