More on: We Are The Physics

Label: This Is Fake DIY Records
Release Date: 05/05/08
Rating:

This band contains three men named Michael, and a lonesome Chris. But how do they distinguish? Big Michael, Little Michael, Average Michael. Brown Michael, Blond Michael, Ginger Michael. Sailor Michael, Policeman Michael, Red Indian Michael. Inappropriate awful Village People puns aside, We Are The Physics make a clattering racket to rank along with fellow upcoming noisemakers Dananananaykroyd.

Starting with the aptly named 'Action Action Action Action Action', a bang of guitars and rapidfire high hat action creates momentum from the off. If your record doesn't even make it over the half mark, then you have no time to fiddle around with fiddly bits and feedback whispers. No gentle come to bed eyes, this album is all wide eyed blaring intensity. 'Less Than Three' has a guitar riff that is on the knife edge between falling apart and hectic joy, riding along on its stop starts like a rollercoaster stuck firmly to its rails. Then just after the one minute what sounds like a dogfight in space takes the place of the 16 bar solo.

With all its chanting, and its wry song titles (cough 'Drawing Anarchy Signs On Your Pencil Case Is Redundant' cough) it can't help but bring the word "Mclusky" into your head. But only if they'd banged a load of pills and Lucozade. The crashing guitars come together again on 'Bulimia Sisters', which, whilst sadly not about (topical reference alert) Prescott's family, is another frantic blast around the punk disco, never relenting in its leg kicking efforts to get your body moving.

Latest single 'You Can Do Athletics, BTW' almost sounds like the songs that The Futureheads used to make; with its juttery lines and the yelped out vocals, it's a 100m sprint through art rock. 'Networking' starts out with a mess of guitar shrapnel before interlocking chants rip through before the beat hits the speed of sound in a song that snaps itself shut before your speakers die.

The only slightly sour note in the sherbet thrills is 'This Is Vanity', which takes a shimmering guitar, start stops and all that, but never goes anywhere. Closer 'CYT #1' draws the threads into a fine twine, noise and melody combined with a nice bit of oohing, stopping as abruptly as the opener started.

We Are The Physics have made a record that has drawn all of the energy out of the power station of British indie and channeled it into their debut. Not once is there a relenting in their onslaught of lyrics spat out faster than a vegetarian eating steak; no slow ballads to rest your weary toes, fretboards eroding like cliffs of sand. If the tracks weren't so great, this could be a problem, but quality remains high, tempo higher, and joy stratospheric.

James Lawrenson

We Are The Physics Official Site
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