Modern Technology are a London-based two-piece whose ability to make a remarkable amount of noise is only a small part of the reason that finds me waxing so lyrical over their debut ep. Drawing on myriad sources from the art-rock deluge of swans and sonic youth, via the icy post-punk of killing joke and the devastating sludge of Melvins, Modern Technology are the sort of band that causes the body’s fight-or-flight mechanism to go into overdrive from the moment the first harrowing squalls of feedback spray forth from the speaker. This is more than mere noise for noise’s sake, however and, with a dense lyrical concept that sees the band exploring the fractured Britain that has emerged following the referendum, it’s clear that Modern Technology have the passion and the conviction to deliver a stark, provocative EP that will leave the listener gasping.
The EP does not start, so much as explode, as the title track detonates with all the startling force of a brick hurled through the window. The churning pressure-wave subsides quickly enough, but it leaves heavily distorted slabs of guitar noise in its wake as a vocal, reminiscent of Jaz Coleman channelling Scott Walker, intones bleakly in the ether. It’s relentless and the experience takes on a sadomasochistic edge as the listener acquiesces and becomes complicit in the aural beating the band deliver. After four, pain-wracked minutes, the band hurtle into the gruelling sludge-punk of project fear, a frantic assault that is positively catchy in the wake of its monstrous antecedent. Slowing the pace, Select retail is an eerie track that sees the listener spied upon by an inquisitive neighbour as a chilling lyric conjures up Peter Gabriel’s the intruder over a soundtrack awash with unseen menace.
The second half of the EP opens with toner, a grinding, flesh-rending track that scrapes as the weight of its own somnambulant pace drags it earthwards. With elements of Khanate’s slow-motion horror underpinning a sneering vocal that seems to be relating sale notices, toner is social commentary at its most feral and unbalanced, whilst the stabbing bass of queue jumper emerges as almost a relief, the band allowing the rhythm to break free from the hellish chains that bind it. With dense churning riffs, and vocals that seem to get swallowed by the raging noise that surrounds them, queue jumper is every bit as unpleasant as the noxious speech that gave rise to its title. The EP concludes with modern detritus, another track that sees the adrenalin flow as dense bass and arcing feedback menacingly circle the hypnotic vocal that sits at the song’s heart. When it comes to an end, it’s as if the daylight suddenly returns and the listener emerges, blinking, into the light.
Modern Technology combine the fierce intelligence of Jello Biafra with the ferocious sonic assault of post-punk and sludge, and the results are astonishing. One of those bands that makes you feel, there’s an inescapably visceral pull to the music the like of which is all too rarely found. For me, it’s like the first time I heard Nirvana, Sonic Youth or Fugazi – that same sense of danger mingled with excitement. This is a band that matters and whose music means something. With a vinyl edition on sale (and all proceeds going to a charity for the homeless), this is an essential purchase and cannot come highly recommended enough. 10
You can check out the EP, and purchase copies digitally and on cassette, via Cruel Nature Recordings here.
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