LICE - Wasteland: What Ails Our People Is Clear Review

Bristolian art-punkers’ debut WASTELAND is a full-throttle punch to the throat by way of deconstruction, fossil fuel guzzling modernity, and near-future dystopia.

Bristolian art-punkers’ debut WASTELAND is a full-throttle punch to the throat by way of deconstruction, fossil fuel guzzling modernity, and near-future dystopia. There’s plenty of character in the debut full length from the Bristol University Alumni, there’s quirkiness, raspy vocals, off-piste riffage and sounds of the sci-fi factory which make an intensity to certify LICE as unique and awakening; with a distinctive satirical delivery, they avoid any critique of their inventiveness.

‘Conveyor’ marches us straight out of our front door and into the factory line, as sounds of impending bubble wrap pops and humming undercurrents of machinery give way to the whipped doom-stricken beeps and simultaneously represent the monotony of a modern existence and the excitement of a developing smidgen of resistance. The anarchy that ensues at the eventual noise wall causes nothing short of a small riot. As lead single and opening track ‘Conveyor’ welcomes us into this fresh chapter for LICE, an effective introduction to their snotty garage guitar work and thunderous rhythms. Furthermore, it flexes Shuttleworth’s trademark breathy hues that feel almost out of place and can be pretty difficult to understand but which work so brilliantly, like the icing on the Birthday cake you can’t stop scraping straight into your mouth. Second single ‘Arbiter’ works with similarly siren-esque riffs from the off that don’t let up. It’s a song of skittish anguish with a chorus created for sloshing brains at the barrier of The Louisiana.

The album is probably at its best at its more aggressive heights. The heavy ‘Deluge’ jumps between triplets of exhausted anger and pain, real music to invade planets to, while ‘Pariah’ smashes and stomps around like a car crash on a rollercoaster. There are a lot of moments through Wasteland which feel like they are a coming up for air. There’s an almost nonchalantness to these rest-breaks, a faux-fatigue which we get the impression we are supposed to find effortless, but every moment of this record feels intentionally accounted for to its benefit. The world is fatigued and, chances are, anyone listening here will be pissed off too. And with every satirical breath and every unsettling chord and crash we feel heard. ‘Imposter’ and single ‘R.D.C’ are two of the more immediate tracks, with crashing waves of Idlesism in the former and winding, lashing notes throughout the latter which are solid starting points for such creative flair.  

This does not mean to say there’s a lack of variation. ‘Persuader’ comes across as a low-key 80s synth bop while ‘Espontaneo’ smells more of jazz undertones and hip hop for its first half. Album closer ‘Clear’ leans into a mostly softer exit to such a loud space. It flirts with heaviness but frequently diverts and continues to weave a gentle wavy bassline and horror-western riffs. The first four minutes here are probably the closest to sexy LICE will try, much to our disappointment, and the final forty seconds play out with all the silliness of the funfair’s soundtrack played at double speed. Another notably different style on WASTELAND comes in the form of the album’s most “consciously experimental track” ‘Folla’ which was initially released along with ‘Arbiter’ which features another horror-western mix coated in what feels like thousands of voices in our collective head: a mixture of robots, alien, and humans arguing as though muddying thoughts in our collective mind. Think a Schizoid cut of something off Arctic Monkeys Favourite Worst Nightmare.  

LICE have said the album “aims to make a constructive contribution to satirical music: arguing that by unsettling its prevailing conventions, it can take on vitalised, nuanced new roles” and it largely succeeds. Only time will reveal all the nuance but I’m totally convinced there’s even more to glean from WASTELAND. Complex and ambitious are rather an understatement; it’s aggression, power and inventiveness packed onto the album with vibrancy and excitement. I know it’s early to say, but as both a standalone record and dystopian sci-fi commentary on where the UK will probably be by May, this could become one of 2021’s finer records.