Saturday, 8 December 2012

Lotus Fucker - Forever My Fighting Spirit

Lotus Fucker have been turning out their nasty noise-based hardcore punk takedown for a couple years now, and in that time they have opted to forego the pogo-punx madlibs approach of nearby noisepunk band Chaos Destroy's song-titling (Damaging Anarchy Chaos Disorder, Fucking Merciless Nuclear Chaotic Violent Noise, Anarchy Chaos Love Beer) in favour of what John Cooper-Clarke would call 'meaningless epicness', so this album has songs called stuff like Clouds In The Morning, Rain At Dusk and Psalms Of The Planet and other such sweeping Whitmanesque flowery propositions, which you'd expect to have as much to do tonally with the songs as mountains have to do with chocolate ice cream bars, but the opener, entitled The Sounds Of Water Flowing Through A Stream, takes a leaf out of Una Bestia Incontrolable's book, and actually starts with the sounds of water flowing through a fucking stream. What sort of mindfuck is that!? Anyway, after a brief bit of countryside atmosphere and some gentle r'n'b slow jam floating along in the background the Lotus Fucker sound kicks in. Spindly feedback-drenched knife-edge hardcore shots. Splintering punk fury, powerviolence touchstones, weird babbling noisescapes, with short feral bursts of hardcore screech popping up wailing out of the murk.

It screams through eight of these nasty fast discharges, before the penultimate track, Berserk (Being Lost on the Road of Life), which is more of a mid-tempo rocker, albeit it one that still gurgles and fights for its life to avoid being drowned in that torrent of distortion, rolling along in this pandemonium, hitting a guitar solo that accelerates into the void before bouncing back into the groove and then crashing out into a violent incoherent renegade rant and train-rumble. WE ARE THE FUCKING GODS OF NOISE THERE'S NO FUCKING STOPPING US! Then though, despite that seeming like the perfect end to this bizarre angry punk violence, it goes into mellow piano-ballad with female Japanese vocals, which does detonate back into that Lotus Fucker derangement after a minute or so, bringing to mind the carefree genre-fuckery of Paintbox and their song A Field in the Moonlight in particular. It then rolls on for another six-minutes of up-and-down catchy cacophonies before fading out with dulcet videogame synths. I guess it's the sort of playfulness you can expect from a band that is so intense the lead singer will dive into the crowd on a crutch after fucking up their knee halfway through a European tour, and also makes My Neighbor Totoro parody shirts, inner peace through outer noise, stentorian silliness, heartfelt lacerations.

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