Somewhere in Russia
Uniform opened for Deafheaven last Friday at Brick by Brick. I stood alone with my Perfect World shirt among all the Sunbathers anxious to see the cataclysm again.
Over the next 45 minutes Uniform won over the audience with hammering power riffs showered in dissonant preamp corruption. By the end, crossed arms turned to pumped fists, headbanging, and even nodding from the scene queens. For the uninitiated imagine Big Black but with Greg Ginn on guitar or Black Flag discovering Lightening Bolt.
Uniform proudly announced their third album was released that day. The Long Walk salutes Stephen King’s book of the same title and theme. Singer Michael Beldan contemplates his religion and place in society’s world order and examines his guilt in refusing to confirm with pursuing the corporate game, which I’ve struggled to reconcile myself lately. “The Walk” renounces Catholicism in exodus punishing theological rule while revealing guitarist Ben Greenberg’s approach for the rest of the album.
Slower in pace compared to Wake in Fright‘s frenzied pummeling attitude, Greenberg added more weight and noise to his rig, compressing the bedlam between the listeners ears.
Recorded and mixed extremely dry sonically, the album reminds one of My War side two. Intentionally overwhelming in tone from guitar to bass drum. Uniform recruited drummer Greg Fox (Liturgy) who establish his place in the mix and on stage.
Uniform repeatedly circle back to guitar patterns like Black Flag’s “Three Nights” to centralize around societies desultory disarray. “Transubstantiation” utilizes this concept best when Greenberg compact crushes cars with his Ampeg Dan Armstrong clear Lucite at the onset and again after the fanatic interlude. The same motif reprises on “Headless Eyes” with Fox drubbing his kit.
The final minute has an incredible double bass barrage which got the audience banging our heads and fists in unison.
The Long Walk also reflects on the journey back to the forces we refused. Beldan ruminates the social order we all must arbitrate, whether it’s our professional careers, personal relationships, or participation in the financial markets.
It’s a long meditation to just compose your desires, what you really want, and then deciphering if it can fit within society’s frame. What must we compromise of ourselves to flourish? Can we justify the trade offs? These artists ask this of themselves and in turn their audience.
Mutual compromise offers value however the line between happiness and resentment hazes with more convolution with each generation.
Uniform looks bleakly at humanity while growing more topical with each record. There’s a cultural neurosis for many entering their early adult years this decade. This is a soundtrack for defining your place in this mess.
EDITED BY JAKE BARNES
Disaesthetic 