It is the worst musical moment in any music fan’s life, and yet one so common that the bare mention of it sparks immediate, rueful recognition from any person who has ever put needle to acetate, head to magnetized iron filings on a thin strand of tape, laser to disc, or ‘play’ on a stream.
That moment when a song that is so incredibly annoying it makes you utter the worst curses you can imagine, gets irrevocably caught in your head. And will not leave, no matter how you try to distract yourself.
And it’s never the whole song. It’s always one specific four-second sample that rattles maniacally in your brain, cackling at you wickedly as it integrates itself into your cherished memories, appalling fears and ardent hopes. (Sidebar: I recall with some humor a no-context text message I got from a friend a couple years back that said simply: “The saxophone part from ‘Jungle Boogie.’ On a loop. Forever.”) With that…
Kontrust. A band on the comeback trail after not releasing an album for nine years, armed with a new singer and drummer. A band that combines all the worst stereotypes of Germanic pop music (the band is from Austria,) the most ridiculous parts of Big Dumb Face, a dash of tone taken from the B-52s, and….well, parts of the best era of Nine Inch Nails, frankly.
That sounds like a concoction for pure terror, but here’s the thing…
It works.
Don’t ask me to explain why. The mere effort of trying to explain it would cause a rational person to lose all control of reality.
The only thing I can offer is that the sheer magnitude of absurdity pouring from the speakers during the band’s new album “madworld” is, as ever with Kontrust, intentional. The band came to fame in part because they famously wear full lederhosen while performing. This is meant to be boppable, feel-good industrial, if such a thing can be said to exist.
I’ve spun this record half a dozen times now, and to put all the thoughts so far together, I have most certainly walked the halls of my workplace with a small, repeating section of album opener “i physically like you,” teasing the corners of my conscious thought. And I kinda hate myself for it, but I also can’t deny that it’s so catchy that there’s some endorphin generation mixed in there as well. I can’t even listen to the song “criminal” anymore, lest I spent the next six hours muttering under my breath “highly highly sexual,” which is going to get me in trouble if I press my luck.
That’s the whole experience of ‘madworld.’ Tiny loops of beat-bopping pop industrial that poison the well of a sentient mind, making you seethe with annoyance while at the same time smiling broadly and dancing around your kitchen making lunch. The best moments strike a precise balance of all the elements. “the end“ and “u.f.i.u” are both well-constructed pop songs in metal clothing, and they work on that level to a pleasantly aggravating degree, but “only a precise hit will set off a chain reaction.” If the mix of elements is off just a little, that’s where we get “pulling,” which is too unadorned-poppy, or “black soul,” which is grating with the aforementioned affect of the B-52s.
Kontrust is at their best when they take a measured approach. I recognize the irony in saying that a band trying to juggle all these chainsaws is best when they settle down and go a little slower, but there it is. “rock to outer space” is the pinnacle achievement of “madhouse,” the song that best exemplifies all Kontrust is capable of in proper proportion. No gimmickry here, this is just a good song; it’s easy to listen to, easy to nod your head, comfortable to digest.
“madhouse” is a fun album that has great moments, but in automotive terms, this is not an everyday driver. Kontrust, perhaps as it has always been for these Austrian stalwarts, is not only an acquired taste, but one that additionally requires a specific mood to get into. Much like the best works of Primus, swallowing the whole album in a single listen is a bit of a task. Still, there’s a lot of fun to be had for the right person on the right day.
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