Lågliv by Neutral

We talk a lot on here about “punk austerity,” a phrase we use to describe the spiritually cynical, aesthetically monochrome, and musically cyclical nature of punk as a style. Typically, punk uses this simple, streamlined design to funnel its entire spirit into cathartic energy, but Swedish experimentalists Neutral strip punk of its richeous anger and energetic exorcisms, leaving behind nothing but the pure essence of austerity. Noisy and distorted yet directionless and unmotivated, guitar-fueled industrial buzz saws hang over the space like a dense fog, establishing a massive presence that begs for explanation. Though tense in overall composition and form, many individual elements across the record feel self-resolving, statements simultaneously aesthetically complete and spiritually vacant. Without the energy, punk’s critiques become transparently laughable, an empty shell of angst that blindly flings distrust at every symbol of authority and displeasure at every visible symptom. When the volume of our shouts of resistance boil away, we’re left with a vague, amorphous displeasure, easily mailable by bad actors and aesthetically lost in the wilderness.