Hailing from Antwerp, Triggerfinger struck big when they landed a deal with Mascot Records (home to Black Stone Cherry, Shaman’s Harvest, Black Country communion and more) for the release of their latest album, ‘Colossus’. A three-piece, the band have exploded out of their home country, playing festivals and supporting Muse in a gigantic, sold-out show in France. The band have also opened for the likes of Red Hot Chilli peppers, Clutch, Thin Lizzy and even the Rolling Stones, cementing their credentials as keeps of the rock ‘n’ roll flame. Now, for their fourth album, the band have teamed up with Mitchell Froom and Tchad Blake who, together and separately, have worked with the likes of Pearl Jam, Tom Waits, Paul McCartney and Richard Thompson, and the resulting album is a powerful, playful piece of work which will bring the band to a whole new audience.
Kicking off with the album’s aptly-named title track, the band go straight for the jugular with ‘Colossus’, a pummelling piece of stripped-down rock ‘n’ roll that sits between Queens of the Stone Age, clutch and art-rock lunatics De Staat. It’s the perfect introduction to the band’s thunderous new sound, evolved over the previous albums and brought boldly to life here, and it also serves as the perfect gateway to the album, leading the listener toward the gritty retro-rock of ‘Flesh tight’ with its taut beat and Ruben Block’s eerily beguiling vocal recalling the early days of the Yeah Yeah Yeahs as Mitchell Froom busies himself in the background adding swathes of keyboard and chattering noise to the mix. The spirit of (Spiritualized offshoot) Lupine Howl hangs over the loop driven ‘Candy Killer’, with bassist Paul Van Bruystegem bringing the funk and drummer Mario Goosens waiting patiently behind the wall of electronic noise for the post punk ‘upstairs box’ to emerge on a stuttering beat. Once again, the song is swathed in enough surface noise to give Daniel Lanois a run for his money, but at the song’s core lies the raw spirit that inspires their live performance and the result is atypical, skewed and yet thoroughly addictive. The first half of the album is rounded out with ‘Afterglow’, a sweet, acoustic number that surprises and disarms by heading into territory last occupied by Radiohead around about the time they recorded ‘Pablo Honey’, perhaps with a touch of the Beatles thrown in for good measure. It’s a beautiful song, with a rich melody that works its way past the listener’s defences in a manner that the busier arrangements simply cannot.
The second half of the record opens with the fizzing beat and indie-fied guitars of ‘Breathlessness’, a charming throwback to the late 90s with echoes of ‘Everything Must Go’-era Manics encoded into its DNA and nods towards both Suede and Stealth Sonic Orchestra for good measure. As if hurtling through the evolution of indie (and Radiohead in particular), ‘that’ll be the day’ heads into Kid A territory with its tough, electronic beat and falsetto vocals, only for the tough guitars to whip it back into rock territory in a way that Thom Yorke and co. didn’t manage to do until ‘hail to the thief’. I must confess to being a complete sucker for songs that nail scratchy riffs to such a powerful beat, and the track is definitely a highlight for me. However, the band swiftly head off on a tangent, as if conscious that they were edging into well-trod territory, with the horn-infused ‘Bring me back a live wild one’ which sounds like Blur going head to head with Iggy Pop in some dark, US bar, redolent with the stench of stale beer and old cigarettes. Totally wrong-footing the listener, ‘steady me’ drifts from acoustic strum to awkwardly syncopated electronic outing with overtones of a latter-day Tom Waits arrangement before the album comes to a dark, unexpectedly bluesy conclusion with ‘Wollensak walk’, a track that sees the band walk toward a dusty sunset, guitars slung over their shoulders and hat tipped against the glare. It is a surprising finish, not least because it heads across the Atlantic for an American influence rarely found on the album (a feeling reinforced by the countryfied hidden track which appears amidst a haze of distortion and tongue-in-cheek steel guitar).
At the outset I was not convinced that Triggerfinger would offer much to a world already preoccupied with the likes of Royal Blood, The Graveltones and their ilk, but where those bands keep things retro, Triggerfinger refuse to stay still, often augmenting their arrangements in a manner hitherto reserved for remixers. There’s a restlessly inventive spirit that runs through these ten tracks and every time you think you have a handle on where the band are headed, they pull the rug out from under you and branch off in a whole new direction. The sense of fun that pervades the album is unmistakable and ‘colossus’ is a hugely enjoyable, wholly unexpected listen. Well worth checking out. 9
