Mandy, Indiana's New Album 'Urgh' Embraces Intensity for Catharsis
The Manchester/Berlin-based four-piece's new album, Urgh, was written in an eerie studio house near Leeds during a time when the band members were undergoing multiple rounds of surgery. This intense and industrial setting seems to be a perfect reflection of their music – an assault on the senses that chills listeners like sticking your fingers into a live socket.
Urgh's distinctiveness comes from its limber rhythms, powered by drummer Alex Macdougall's incredible versatility and singer Valentine Caulfield's staccato delivery. The band's latest creation is alive with addictively free, bodily lope, often stalled by squalling winds and thrashing noise: threats lurking around every corner.
Caulfield has said that she enjoys that most listeners don't understand her lyrics; using them to pass intentions to the listener through performance and words. Whatever your Duolingo level, there's no mistaking the impression of someone feeling trapped in their songs, such as "Try Saying" about wishing for a life of ease.
The album has evolved into a harder, thicker sound with extreme physicality and hyper-detailing that feels like getting dragged under by a strong wave. Guitarist Scott Fair and synth player Simon Catling often blend together seamlessly, creating a ferocious peak like Magazine's – one that pauses to recharge only to renew its obliterating attack.
Urgh is no exception; standout track 'Ist Halt So' packs about four different movements into as many minutes – taunting, staticky, howling, blizzard-like chill. The song has a Nine Inch Nails-worthy way with making the mechanical sleazy and earwormy to disgusting, brilliant ends.
In an era where #MeToo seems to be vanishing from culture's rear window, songs explicitly confronting rape culture have become less headline-grabbing. But Urgh reminds us of its importance – a raging emergency that feels incredibly cathartic when heard from someone like Mandy, Indiana.
The Manchester/Berlin-based four-piece's new album, Urgh, was written in an eerie studio house near Leeds during a time when the band members were undergoing multiple rounds of surgery. This intense and industrial setting seems to be a perfect reflection of their music – an assault on the senses that chills listeners like sticking your fingers into a live socket.
Urgh's distinctiveness comes from its limber rhythms, powered by drummer Alex Macdougall's incredible versatility and singer Valentine Caulfield's staccato delivery. The band's latest creation is alive with addictively free, bodily lope, often stalled by squalling winds and thrashing noise: threats lurking around every corner.
Caulfield has said that she enjoys that most listeners don't understand her lyrics; using them to pass intentions to the listener through performance and words. Whatever your Duolingo level, there's no mistaking the impression of someone feeling trapped in their songs, such as "Try Saying" about wishing for a life of ease.
The album has evolved into a harder, thicker sound with extreme physicality and hyper-detailing that feels like getting dragged under by a strong wave. Guitarist Scott Fair and synth player Simon Catling often blend together seamlessly, creating a ferocious peak like Magazine's – one that pauses to recharge only to renew its obliterating attack.
Urgh is no exception; standout track 'Ist Halt So' packs about four different movements into as many minutes – taunting, staticky, howling, blizzard-like chill. The song has a Nine Inch Nails-worthy way with making the mechanical sleazy and earwormy to disgusting, brilliant ends.
In an era where #MeToo seems to be vanishing from culture's rear window, songs explicitly confronting rape culture have become less headline-grabbing. But Urgh reminds us of its importance – a raging emergency that feels incredibly cathartic when heard from someone like Mandy, Indiana.