Trapped by buzz, UK worshippers and endless comparisons to Birthday Party and Siouxsie And The Banshees, Savages’ debut practically guts the hype around them and drags a knife along the ground to capture your attention. Through 11 tracks, Silence Yourself inhales the stark complexities of late ’70s post punk yet releases a not so easy listen. It’s an album pistol-whipped for your headphones, as its talk of violence and desire long for an inescapable decibel, and when it roars to life at the hand of “Shut Up”, it punishes the foreground with a hostile blitz of sound. Truthfully, it’s unavoidable; “City’s Full” barks and stuns, “Hit Me” slams, and “She Will” stains with a kiss of death.
Most of all, Savages show that Silence Yourself isn’t some twisted view of sonic experimentation because its depth is almost unattainable. The hum of bass strikes on “Marshal Dear” and the punishing chord fury of “I Am Here” are just quick connections to how the four females craft instrumentals that attach to your skin like wildfire; you wilfully put them out but they reignite, time and time again, with cymbal screams and Jehnny Beth’s audacity looming over you like you’re a victim. The record at times gets too mechanical – “Waiting For A Sign” doesn’t seem like the right cut to storm into “Dead Nature”, a welcome intro to Side B – but has post-punk ever been peaceful or mainstream? In the case of this quartet, its replenishing itself, waiting for the right moment to set your whole conscious ablaze.
Listen: “She Will”, “I Am Here”, “Marshal Dear”, “Strife” || Watch: “Shut Up”