Processed by the Boys - PROTOMARTYR

In the closing moments of the song, Casey quietens. The trashing, explosive staccato chords seemed dulled, shedding their post punk armour for something more delicate, ephemeral. It is here where the saxophone seems to be in its spirit, Casey's free association poetry beginning to sound weak, broken, heartfelt. Everything will be different next next time.

‘Next time will be different’.
Casey speaks with an awareness of the cyclical nature of what he sings about, and what Protomartyr have always sung about: brutality, hurt, and escapism into this post-punk, post-rock soundscape. The wild eyed animal is never tamed, rather, it becomes the victor, as Protomartyr sonically, and lyrically resign themselves to this cyclical fate. The effort of bothering, the effort of trying, is pointless when a cataclysmic end draws near.

There is a brief episode of struggle, everything growing louder, abrasive, alive, until falling. The guitars become strummed, quietening. Even, arguably declining into what is gentle again. About the world. What is nie, and what has meaning. It recalls the IDLES lyrics, ‘I’m just sitting here looking at pretty colours’, framing the idea of a sorrowful defeat in a much more tender, and heartfelt way. Protomartyr started this track in their usual form, the crashing guitars, echoing but static. Yet they close it with a feeling so delicate and isolated. Desolate chords fade the song out.

The song opens in Portomartyr’s classic style, sharp, jagged guitar chords, followed by Joe Casey's slipping half-poetry, half-lyric vocals. We think, we feel, that this Protomartyr are back with another post-punk thrash song. But, my days, the sound of the tenor saxophone (?)  is a wonderful noise. It does not clash with the post-metal of Ahee’s guitars, rather, adds to them, giving the scape of the song a voice of previously undiscovered heart. There has always been a resounding emotional weight to Protomartyr before, and this instrumentalism vocalises that best. It goes unspoken in Relatives In Descent. Moving onwards and beyond, we would love to hear more of Protomartyr’s exploration of reed instruments. The saxophone is given the equal amount of weight and depth, through sound alone, as the aforementioned heavy guitars. See the tonal eerieness the strings brought to Relatives. Too, the sax makes the song sound incredible.

The song plants its feet with the strongest guitar line I’ve heard in a long time in its opening chords. Its sliding chords, versus Caseys ungodly-yet-surprisingly-priestly monotonous poetry, makes for a wicked combination. The song too, sonically, is loud. It doesn’t just plant its feet, it kicks you down, it in its opening seconds. It’s tough, abrasive and vocal about it.

Reality is duller and slow, yet Protomartyr capture the energy and fear in the nihilistic era they find themselves writing in. The 'foreign disease, washed up on the beach' could easily be read as a reference to the hysteria around COVID-19, or perhaps, an abstract fear. Something foreign, nondescript, and whatever it is, it is here. The idea of cosmic horror is best reflected through the metalwork of the song, discussing cosmic grief, black holes, voids. Perhaps Protomartyr have fallen into the echoing, hellish cycle of collapse and dread we find ourselves in. There is fear everywhere, and you are being told about it by all means. It’s a ear we all have always. Standing on the cusp of the coming apocalypse. Protomartyr essentially draw it out, recreate it and put a series of crisp guitar lines over it.

Yet the softer lyrics, the softer heart, and the softening feeling of Protomartyr come through. The staccato guitars become—no longer powerful—but isolated, lonely and spaceless husks. They are matched only by their concurrent high hat crashes, crashing into an open nothingness. There is a loose promise that ‘next time will be different’. ‘Next time will be gentle’. As the song loops, I am brought back to the beginning. You hear, suddenly, how much louder the song was, starting. The song itself becomes ‘a wild eyed animal’. It moves from a reaction of anger, resistance and irritation to a hunted, tender defeat. When the rise of Coronavirus came about, I compared it to Ebola, Zika or Swine Flu. Now, in quarantine, true to Casey’s word, everything is different. All I can hear is the music playing, fading into the gain of the next non-existent song. Processed by the Boys loops. The ending, so to speak, does not come.

‘Ultimate Success Today’  by Protomartyr comes out on Domino Recording May 29. http://loosemeat.biz/