Album Review: Savages - Silence Yourself

The unrelenting blanket of darkness across Silence Yourself is unequivocally post-punk, as are Savages. The UK-based four-piece revel in low tones, pulsating percussion and angular guitar riffs, all held together by frontwoman Jehnny Beth's howls and screeches. Beth is chameleonic, able to leap from ear-bleeding falsetto heights to deep, shuddering exhalations in a single song, an advantageous trait to have as the songs could easily become undistinguishable from one another.

Her pan-European accent is tantalising on the unassuming No Face, as she yells the refrain over a cacophonic mash of guitars and drums. Theirs is a simple set-up but it doesn't stop the four women from making big noise and cleverly avoiding mundanity with quick key and tempo changes mid-song. There's an intangible vitality in songs like Hit Me, bristling with nervous energy that needs expunging, that's explored in every fast-paced, no-nonsense song. It is the older single, Husbands, that most accurately encapsulates Savages' goal: a chugging rhythm that builds magnificently beneath Beth's frenetic yelps. There's urgency in every iota; you can practically picture sweat hitting guitar frets and the shuffling feet of an overexcited frontwoman. It falls to serenity on Marshal Dear, venom spiking Beth's tongue as she utters, 'I hope you're breathing your last breath, Marshal dear.'

It's refreshing to hear a band that commits to its influences but twists them into something vibrating with life. Silence Yourself is a grower record; the first listen may leave you curious, the second seeing you noting the songs as passively enjoyable, but a few more and you're hooked.