Babyteeth (1991)

6.5

Meat Abstract / Skyward / Punishment Kiss / Animal Bones / Loser Cop / Innocent X / Dancin' with Manson

I saw Therapy? for the first time somewhere in 1994, during my last year in high school. I probably remember it that vividly because it was the first time that I saw a gig in the nation's capital, got wasted after the show with a few friends and had to sleep in the train station waiting for the first train back home to arrive. I also remember I thought it was a fantastic show. Troublegum had been released a few months before and it was the ideal soundtrack to the lives of semi-grownups like me. Like Nirvana a few years earlier, Therapy? rocked while remaining accessible and I could connect to what they were singing about, whether it was self-loathing ("With a face like this I won't break any hearts / And thinking like that I won't make any friends," from "Screamager"), misanthropy ("All people are shit / Bad trip tattooed on my brain," from "Knives"), not fitting in ("Going Nowhere") and the teenage wasteland in general ("Masturbation saved my life / I was nervous as a child," from "Femtex"). In many ways, they were the ideal teen angst band, although it would be a crime to deny them further significance. They were quite big at the time, happenin', yet they remained the easily approachable blokes they had always been, as their dedicated performances made sure they'd play a lot of shows in Belgium the next decade or so. By 1994, they'd already come along way though. It's not that they transformed from one band into another, but the songwriting shops definitely came gradually, making the earlier material sound somewhat unfocused or messy at times. This long debut EP (or short album, whatever you prefer) is already a nice indication of their pre-Troublegum sound. When you listen to "Meat Abstract" (their first single), names and terms that will be flying through your head are Steve Albini (raw and mechanical), Hüsker Dü (vacuum cleaner guitars and roaring vocals), metal and punk, but also primitive (industrial) dance music. There were hundreds of bands in Britain concocting mergers of rock and dance, but whereas the Manchester brethren flirted with the shoegazers and the mellow dance scene, Therapy? created something darker and more oppressive, as if they preferred Front 242 and Ministry to New Order. The sound is awkwardly trebly, the guitar sound almost "granular" (that's the best term I can come up with), the bass nearly inaudible and Fyfe Ewing's weird drum rhythms immediately create a different vibe - a combination of chilly fierceness and the military, which fitted the slogan-styled lyrics particularly well. At this point in their existence, they were at their best when they were pulling out all the stops: the pummelling bass-line, continuing feedback and dragging pace of "Punishment Kiss" almost creates a nauseating effect (headphones!), the ultra-refined "Animal Bones" ("You're a piece of shit!") is a fine piece of angular metal-punk, while the schizophrenic "Loser Cop" (part surf from hell, part industrial instrumental, part nightmare with free-floating sax wails) still sounds fine after 14 years. When they were trying something more conventional, it didn't always work well ("Skyward" is so monotonous it's limp before it's even halfway), but at least they always were originals and a track like "Dancin' with Manson" (dissonance and catchiness) proves the seeds of their later (artistic and commercial) success were already there. Some people will tell you the REAL Therapy? died when they became big, but that's pure nonsense. It is true however, that already in their early stages they had something going for them. Babyteeth can prove you why.

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Pleasure Death (1992)

7

Skinning Pit / Fantasy Bag / Shitkicker / Prison Breaker / D.L.C. / Potato Junkie

Barely half a year after the debut EP (which graced the top of the indie charts), the boys already came up with a second one and guess what? They're still pissed-off, still obsessed with the dark & perverse side of human beings and still translate it into music that's occasionally as creepy as its subject matter. Pleasure Death - another hit that rose to the #1 spot in the UK - sounds marginally better than Babyteeth, in that it's a bit more muscular, straightforward and disbands some of the dance-rock in favour (?) of a more metallic direction. Opening track "Skinning Pit," for instance, develops a wicked, galloping groove (and its danceable!), but when those guitars kick in, it nearly enters headbangin' territory. The vocals are more distorted than ever, which only adds to the detached sound and depressing themes ("I was born your punch bag and you / You know I'll never punch you back"). Else where, the band churns out an angular metal-punk fusion (I swear "Shitkicker" sounds like a Black Flag-cover), wraps up an abundance of serial killer fantasies into a bleak post-punk vibe ("Fantasy Bag"), and takes voice manipulation to an extreme (in the spooky "Prison Breaker"). The instrumental "D.L.C." repeatedly flirts with mid-80's speed-metal and hardcore punk (Metallica meets Slip It In-era Black Flag!) and the best - or the most "recognisable - is saved for last, with "Potato Junkie,' the live favorite with its almost legendary punchline "I'm bitter, I'm twisted, James Joyce is fucking my sister." As a combination of thumping metal (the verses) and Hüsker Dü's abrasive punk-pop (the chorus), it may sound a bit awkward at first, but that rumbling middle section and unstoppable drive probably turn it into one of their most memorable songs. It's also the sound they'd fully explore on later releases. It's not much of a progression yet when compared to Babyteeth - if you're not familiar with the band, you probably won't hear any difference - but those who were paying attention must've noticed that the band was working on getting its act together, tightening up and let their assets gel into a cohesive whole. The only remaining thing to do was wait for that full-length which would confirm (or disappoint) the expectations.

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Nurse (1992)

7

Nausea / Teethgrinder / Disgracelands / Accelerator / Neck Freak / Perversonality / Gone / Zipless / Deep Sleep / Hypermania

With their focus on life's less brighter moments and various mental problems, Babyteeth and Pleasure Death probably earned a spot in the hearts of many depressed outcasts, puzzled teenagers, manic-depressives and social misfits, and for those people, Nurse must've been a Godsend. Like its predecessors, Nurse is basically an extended trip through an emotional wasteland in which confusion, frustration and fear replaced security, normality and safety. Cairns' protagonists are always trying to survive at the outer fringes and as soon as things seem to take a turn for the better, self-loathing and violent fantasies prevent any escape from the bottomless pit they find themselves in. It's not that the music's emotionally oppressive, but the harshness of the themes and lyrics is definitely reflected in the bleak and "cold" sonic palette. The band has moved a bit away from the neo-industrial direction of before, but with its almost mechanical percussion and lack of warmth (on all levels), Nurse isn't exactly a convivial album. This is also reflected in the songs. Whereas their next album would be a feast of power and hooks, Nurse is an almost impenetrable affair - except for the first two songs. "Nausea" immediately raises the expectations with its opening cry "Here I am, motherfucker!", but those high hopes are only halfway met. It does present itself without any pretensions and apologies - you either accept the ugly Big Black/metal/punk-fusion or you don't - but it somehow also lacks the consistency to become a true motherfucker. A song like "Nausea" is basically built around one simple idea (in this case a recurring vocal melody) and while they'd become great at this for a while, they only pull it off a few times here. Even though it has more of a focus on the percussion-side of things and an obvious indebtedness to heavy metal, it's not that different from what Nirvana were doing on their 1991 album, Nevermind - come up with a simple idea, but wrap it up in an edgy sound that's both appealing and offensive (to some). "Teethgrinder," the album's single ànd best song (probably also the best song of the pre-Troublegum material) is something different, as it is the album's most dance-oriented song. With its looped, entrancing guitar pattern, added percussion and samples ("In my sleep I grind my teeth"), it becomes the spooky and menacing piece of danceable rock that would become (and remain) a concert favourite. The remaining eight songs aren't as striking and frankly, none of them is even remotely as good as "Nausea" or "Teethgrinder," but beneath the monotonous surface, several worthwhile songs kept their longevity: "Accelerator" is a bit dumb, but its Motörhead-chug does the job, "Perversonality" recycles the riff of "Neck Freak" (which shares a certain similarity with "Teethgrinder") and improves on that song, while the slow and unadorned "Gone" is so disheartening (suicide, abortion, family feuds, emotional confusion - all in one song), so painfully hopeless, that it makes you wonder how these guys manage to get through the day. It's quite remarkable that the band became that good at doing these slow, out of step-songs, as also the grinding dub of "Deep Sleep" manages to impress more than metallic rockers such as "Zipless" and "Hypermania" (which sounds like an outtake of Helmet's debut album). Even though there's only one song that really disappoints - "Disgracelands" with its over-used riff and out of place and clumsy social critique (BAD U.S.A.!) - the album is also too uneven as a whole to consider it a strong effort. It works perfectly as a transitional effort - struggling to coalesce their incensed rage with accessibility - but Nurse is also the sound of a band that didn't seem ready yet for the breakthrough. But a little patience…

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Troublegum (1994)

8.5

Knives / Screamager / Hellbelly / Stop It You're Killing Me / Nowhere / Die Laughing / Unbeliever / Trigger Inside / Lunacy Booth / Isolation / Turn / Femtex / Unrequited / Brainsaw

Nurse was already a moderate success on the British Isles, but with Troublegum, the band suddenly seemed on the verge of true stardom. In a way, they even were stars, as they played in sold-out big venues, had several singles in the charts and appeared at some of the biggest rock festivals. And they deserved every single bit of it, as Troublegum managed to signify (almost) everything that Nirvana's Nevermind did a few years earlier. The singles also ensured that everybody knew about Therapy?'s new direction. It's not that they made a U-turn, but there were some considerable differences compared to the lo-fi grind of Nurse. Gone were the industrial vibe, the gritty vacuum-cleaner guitars and the lack of direction that marred some of their songs. Instead: these songs were tightly structured, short (all below the four minute-mark), wrapped in a forceful, but accessible sound and, most importantly, they were catchy as hell. Including the ltd. edition release of "Femtex," this album spawned five singles, but it might as well have been 7 or 8. Or 9. They'd always had a few songs that immediately clicked, whether because of a refreshing rhythmic attack ("Teethgrinder") or a punchline that stuck with you ("Potato Junkie"), but this time around, they clearly understood their strengths and delivered a batch of songs that was a serious leap forward (true, they did become more commercial and lost some of their "edge" - but are you really gonna complain when you get this in return?). The punk-pop of lead off single, "Nowhere," immediately said it all, even though it's the album's "lightweight" track, in a way. It's infectious, tight, you can sing along to it, and despite its brevity, it even has a guitar solo. It's music that works on the radio, at parties, and - because of its simple, recognizable lyrics - it was bound to become a kind of teenage anthem. The remaining singles would almost make a similar impact: the alternative metal of "Trigger Inside" was heavy enough to satisfy the metalheads, while the world-weary lyrics ("I know how Jeffrey Dahmer feels") and effective chorus only warranted one listen to remember it; "Die Laughing" (which I'm not that fond of since I saw dozens and dozens of people pointing at their own head at parties while the song's line "I think I've gone insane" was blasting) was ideally suited for those who wanted a metallic Nirvana; and their hard-rocking interpretation of Joy Division's was actually pretty terrific. With its effective balance of crude power (album opener "Knives" is basically a rudimentary of start & stop power metal) and pop sheen, Troublegum in a way jumped the bandwagon that was started a few years earlier, but they managed to spice up their alt rock in a different way, as several of the album's better songs hovered between wave, rock and metal. While the chorus of "Hellbelly" ("Jesus without the suffering" endlessly repeated) was a bit too simplistic, tracks like "Unbeliever" (with Helmet's Page Hamilton lending the band a hand) and "Turn" offered a perfect distillation of their forceful gloom. The message remained unchanged, but they'd learned to offer it more effectively - Cairns' guitar playing seemed impressively diverse (this guy could switch from shoegazin' sound-sheets to power chords, squealing feedback and back in a split-second), while the strong rhythm section of McKeegan and Ewing finally deserved the prominence it deserved. Not everything on the album was as successful, as it peters out a bit towards the end (although the use of cello during "Unrequited" was a nice idea and pointed forward to the band's next release) and tracks like "Lunacy Booth" never made much of an impact for me, but Troublegum was an album that was destined to be treasured by legions of kids who'd been waiting for exactly something like it. More than a decade later, it already sounds a bit dated, but the songwriting and musicianship are still damn convincing, so that I won't have to apologize for liking it that much at the time. Some people were once into The Osmonds. Or Boney M. Or… GENESIS!

* shudder *

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Infernal Love (1995)

8

Epilepsy / Stories / A Moment of Clarity / Jude the Obscene / Bowels of Love / Misery / Bad Mother / Me Vs You / Loose / Diane / 30 Seconds

If Troublegum was the band's teen angst-album, than Infernal Love must be the late-night, mature, less straightforward interpretation. It's a lot less accessible, in fact: it takes several listens to be fully appreciated, because the used tactic is completely different. Whereas the breakthrough album was all about immediate impact, catchiness, power and spitting out rage and frustration, Infernal Love is its even darker counterpart. It sounds as if it's not about venting anger, but staring with disgust at the putrid fluid coming from the open sore it left behind. As such, the band comes closer than ever to the doomsday vibe of Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds as well as Killing Joke ("Jude the Obscene"), and when "Loose" - which sounds as melodic, catchy and upbeat as anything on Troublegum - rears its head, it almost comes as a shock. This is not to say the album doesn't have some serious rocking goin' on, as the angularity of "Epilepsy" and throbbing alt-metal of "Stories" (with its trademark "Happy people have no stories"-line) show. Slightly less exuberant are "Jude the Obscene" (which is almost as desperately desperate as the novel it copped its title from), and the two-punch of "Misery" and "Bad Mother." However, it's the presence of the non-rock songs that makes this album really worthwhile and a special entry in the band's catalogue. "A Moment of Clarity" is still a kind of muscular dirge that manages to combine freezing wave with hints of metal, but a track like "Bowels of Love," almost a mini-drone driven by muted strumming and Martin McCarrick's cello work, adds a sense of drama to their music they never even attempted before. Whereas the band seemed to revel in their own brashness on their previous albums, they now understood that making an impact in a more subtle, "classier" way was also possible, and throughout Infernal Love, they manage to keep up this noir atmosphere, a kind of desolate, urban unease that's enhanced by long intros, fade-outs ("Bad Mother"), sound effects ("Me vs You") and a decreased dominance of guitar muscle. The cinematic "Me vs You" comes off as a bit too self-indulgent, suggesting a band that almost worships its own altar, but this is easily compensated for by the band's take on Hüsker Dü"s "Diane", which consists (if you ignore the intro) of nothing but McCarrick's cello and Cairns' voice. It may lack the sonic grit of Grant Hart's original, but that's no hindrance as the show is stolen by Cairns' performance. The singer had always relied on twisted minds to tell his stories and it doesn't cause him any effort at all (or so it seems) to tell this rapist's tale without turning it into a goofy failure. As such, it's still one of the best cover versions of any Hüsker Dü song you'll encounter. It takes a while to get used to Infernal Love, it's not really inviting and the song order seems a bit uneven at first (I've never been that fond of the middle part with "Misery," "Bad Mother" and "Me vs You"), but it's one of the albums that do leave a certain impression, and when the Motörhead-chug of "30 Seconds" finally comes to an end (after a three minute fade-out), you'll realize that Infernal Love contains some of the band's best material, presented in an altogether different way, making it one of their must-haves.

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Semi-Detached (1998)

7

Church of Noise / Tightrope Walker / Black Eye, Purple Sky / Lonely, Cryin' Only / Born Too Soon / Stay Happy / Safe / Straight Life / Heaven's Gate / Don't Expect Roses / Tramline / The Boy's Asleep

Infernal Love, which was poised to be the band's stateside breakthrough album never really lived up to the label's expectations. On this side of the Atlantic however, Therapy? had become a household name, attracted big crowds and got so caught up in the rock 'n' roll lifestyle that it almost meant the end of the band. Original member Fyfe Ewing was so fed up with the lads' deterioration and dependence on all kinds of substances that he eventually left the band. Luckily, Cairns and McKeegan soon found a replacement in Graham Hopkins, asked Martin McCarrick (who'd done cello parts for Infernal Love) to join the band and realized they had to sober up or they'd get entirely get swallowed up by the bottomless pit they got themselves into. They got their shit together and returned to the studio where they recorded their first single ("Meat Abstract") with producer Chris Sheldon (who'd also guided them through the recordings of Troublegum). It's immediately noticeable that Therapy? Mk. 2 had other concerns. Whereas the previous line-up seemed to head in an increasingly self-absorbed and depressing direction that made you wonder how much longer their albums could continue to become darker and more miserable, Semi-Detached is a refreshing return to their earlier material. This doesn't imply they suddenly became all sunny and happy (the second brightest sounding song on the album - "Heaven's Gate" - contains a line that refers to Cairns' cocaine habit: "I'm paying through the nose for my inspiration"), but they managed to utter more than disgust.

Actually, the previous album would never have included a song as straightforward as first single "Church of Noise," probably closer than they ever come to classic rock 'n' roll, complete with ecstatic break with piano hammering and a recurring (and slightly annoying) falsetto. Second single "Lonely, Cryin' Only" is - if possible - even more accessible, with a melody that would've fit on Troublegum if it had had more of a metallic punch. Regrettably, not all the "uplifting" songs on Semi-Detached are as successful, as "Heaven's Gate" and "Don't Expect Roses" are a bit by-the-book efforts, superficially betraying the classic traits, but lacking the factor that would make them distinguishable. The real meat of the album is in the songs that try to unite the accessible with the challenging, the melody with the filth. "Tightrope Walker (if that intro ain't a reference to "Knives"!) alternates nauseating verses pushed by drum salvos and a crawling bass line with a poppy, melancholy chorus and likewise, "Safe" tries to bridge the punchy melodicism of Troublegum with the intense experimentalism of the earlier work. This balance also recurs in the almost gothic metal chugging of "Born Too Soon" and the near-industrial grind of "Straight Life," which would've fit perfectly on Babyteeth or Pleasure Death had Ewing still been around to give it that trademark twist. Semi-Detached is one of those special albums that initially don't make that much of an impression, but it becomes better after repeated listens, and while there's nothing spectacular to be found here - you'll have a hard time finding any fan who'll claim this is his/her favorite album - there's nothing really bad either. The distortion-mess of "Tramline" might be a bit directionless and the falsettos in "Black Eye, Purple Sky" and "Stay Happy" might become grating after a while, but apart from that, Semi-Detached is a decent and dedicated album that no band would/should be ashamed of.

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Suicide Pact: You First (1999)

7.5

He's Not That Kind of Girl / Wall of Mouths / Jam Jar Jail / Hate Kill Destroy / Big Cave In / Six Mile Water / Little Tongues First / Ten Year Plan / God Kicks / Other People's Misery / Sister

Between the release of Semi-Detached and its follow-up album, things couldn't have gotten much worse than they actually were. The English division of A&M had to close its doors, Semi-Detached didn't get released in the US after all, and on top of that drummer Graham Hopkins broke an arm. Frustrated and pissed-off, the band set out to record its heaviest and most vicious album yet (what would you do?). Suicide Pact: You First (the name was copped from Rupert Thomson's novel Five Gates in Hell) is easily their most challenging album, one that disbanded nearly all of the hooks that made their previous albums so much easier to digest, while its sound is a thick, almost impenetrable sonic mud. On the one hand, taking matters into their own hands was a wise decision (and the band even financed the recordings themselves - certainly not the standard procedure for a band of their stature), as they manage to sound much more energetic, raw and determined than on the more polished, eager-to-please Semi-Detached, yet on the other hand the newly embraced abrasiveness can also be an obstacle and an indication that the band perhaps might've tried too hard to piss off potential listeners, even though there was only one single pulled from the album. However, with a title like "Hate Kill Destroy," it's obvious you're not aiming for charting success, especially if you start it off with a quote from Nietzsche ("Was, meint ihr, will aus diesem kindlein werden? Gutes oder böses?"). The song itself is driven by almost grotesquely distorted guitars, Cairns' growling vocals, piercing feedback and wooshes of digital sound you wouldn't have found on any of their earlier singles.

Despite the murky sound, the band was incorporating perhaps even more influences than before, ranging from Beefheart's vocal dementia to more cerebral post-rock (on the instrumental "Big Cave In" in particular), hardcore punk (the furious "Other People's Misery" sounds positively incendiary), and newer evolutions like nu-metal (the riffs of "He's Not That Kind of Girl" and the near-industrial punch of "Little Tongues First"). Yet beneath all the discordant textures, it's still Therapy? at work here, and tracks like "Jam Jar Jail," "Wall of Mouths," "Hate Kill Destroy" and the rhythmic album closer "Sister" do reveal the trademark hooks and catchphrases after repeated listens, as also the lyrical concerns (communication breakdowns, escapism, abuse, religion, etc) stay familiar. That the band didn't wanna release an all-out sonic assault is proven by the presence of two quieter tracks, "Six Mile Water" and "God Kicks," but whereas the former is overlong, dragging and a by-the-books-song, the brief "God Kicks" (allegedly recorded in a forest at night), consisting of nothing but acoustic guitar, McCarrick's cello and Cairns' whispered growl is a small victory, a bare-boned depiction of helplessness in the hands of a remorseless God. It's obvious that several of the songs on Suicide Pact were deliberately hostile, as if the band was looking for underground credibility again. After this album, they'd never again attempt to churn out another across-the-boards-stunner like Troublegum (even though I'm convinced they're capable of it) and settle for an existence slightly more towards the margin. However, when the results are as fierce, sincere and mostly successful as on Suicide Pact: You First, there's not much to complain about. (Jan. 10th, 2006)

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