Feeling Nosferatu vibes this Halloween week? Dig Test Icicles: The UK trio is hard, fast, and viciously catchy, but above all scary. Guitars don't chug and wail; they whinny and scream. Carnival organ gallops ghoulish frequencies on "Pull the Lever". "Catch It" is just a scrambled nightmare with a psychosexual thrust. Yup, it's about the most chilling thing going next to Skateboard P's verses.
But the band puts some jaunt to its haunt, namely in frontman Sam Merrann's vocals, which are dynamic but uniformly hair-raising. For those who think acid-throated vox are the province solely of American bands like Blood Brothers, here's a Brit who would give any stateside howler a run for his money in a Drano-drinking contest. The vocal venom sits well on opener "Your Biggest Mistake", whose distortion-eaten guitars call, respond, and scorch the earth. Elsewhere, the singer proves versatile, carrying subcutaneous melodies and bratting-up his quieter spit.
When the band's slash-and-burn post-hardcore finally yields beautiful hooks, the screams can be corrosive. Merrann serves up Carengie Deli portions-- ample multi-tracking and agile trade-offs ensure no measure goes unaccompanied by voice, no lyric unechoed by a scream, and no guitar kick unaccented. But havoc and harmony learn to coexist, most harmoniously on "Circle Square Triangle", whose guitars punch thick upbeats despite an ungainly note count. "Pull the Lever" takes a rare indrawn breath, then spits the album's silkiest (and sickest) chorus.
So obviously the boys have tools like a baby LeBron. But are their acrobatics more catchy than contrived? The lead singer's fucking nicknamed "Dangerr," and the band name is one of the worst this side of Panic! at the Disco. Next you're gonna tell me Test Icicles play lipstick pink guitars and claim 15,000 Myspace friends. Without the übertight chops and huge choruses on 24-hour call, those facts might matter. Instead they're harmless gimmicks, more easily ignored than derided.
For development's sake, the band ought to call Frenchkiss, which has this kind of slanted and chanted dance-punk all but vertically integrated. Screening Purposes would benefit from more voluminous production, especially on a song like "Your Biggest Mistake", which packs several fast-moving parts into a shallow sonic field. The effect is disorienting, like trying to focus on a single buzz in a bee-box.
The more linear numbers have a better sense of equilibrium, but the straightest-- "Catch It," which cuts a robotic beeline, and "Maintain the Focus"-- are the least musically compelling. After a torrid opening sweep, the record starts to unravel, connecting its component dots rather than synthesizing them. Fifty minutes-- with only a gauzy organ-droning interlude for a bathroom break-- is a cross-country haul with a record that's all forte, all the time. But the hooks stick long after windedness wears off.
Though the single's called "Boa vs. Python", Test Icicles are all cobra. Quick-tempered and ready to pounce at the drop of a double-time bridge, the band splits the difference between cockney, cocked neck, and coq au vin. The total package suggests a less test-icicular, dancefloor sympathetic Glassjaw-- which means show-goers would do well to train hard and eat a big pasta dinner before hitting the parquet. But asking the band to slow down would be like ticketing Tony Stewart.
