It’s not often that a band creates a sound that is quintessentially unique, but after the first minute of this album I realized that forever after, I will never mistake Munich’s Liquid Meat for any other band on the planet.
Having said that, from a songwriting and structure perspective, this three-piece have a Polvo-esque edge to them with some very classy Slint elements too. Whilst their vocal sound is a lot more guttural and affected than either of these bands, it’s not heavy enough to place the band in a doomy genre. Au contraire, their syncopated, travelling rhythms have quirk and attitude, creating journey music that has zaniness and fun sandwiched between good chunky slabs of distortion.
The drumming on this album is exemplary; creative and responsive, Manu Holmer (who plays the drumset and some percussion) aims for some very ambitious beats and accents, and somehow she manages to pull them all off. The synergy between her playing and the rest of the band is a joy to listen to. It’s very refreshing to hear a rhythm section moving so freely but staying together.
The studio environment has definitely lent itself to a thick bass tone, played by Max Horch. The bass parts on In Meat We Trust are very tasty indeed. With the wandering drum parts and the intensity of the guitar and vocals, Max’s bass parts often form the backbone to these songs, yet another unique trait of Liquid Meat.
Whilst all three members of Liquid Meat perform vocal parts, Freddie Mack is definitely the voice of the band. His tongue-in-cheek sound and delivery is somehow reminiscent of Steve “Lips” Kudlow from Anvil and immediately draws the listener into a very Liquid Meat world.
It’s hard to pick favourites from the thirteen songs on this album. For me, this is one of those albums that I tend to listen to from beginning to end. In the same way I always listen to Mr Bungle albums, it seems important to let the Liquid Meat universe take over once it has exploded from the speakers. “Punch the Clock” is a great track for it’s layered vocals and polyrhythmic arrangement. The guitar solo at the end of “Double Standard Blues” is very refreshing and moments as soporific as this give the listener some space to process the continued assault of the band’s energy. If I was going to pick a favourite, though, it would be “Blackout” for it’s punk credibility and sheer abandon.
Affectation runs deep in the Liquid Meat camp. The vocal styling and glam shtick of the riff construction definitely has a large element of cheese. Some of the guitar tones even have a phasey ‘80s edge to them. No, this album is definitely not for the post-millennium die-hards! But for those interested in musical melding, and a lot of fun, then this album really delivers. What’s more, it’s incredibly catchy and definitely not for the easily offended. This results in some quite hilarious private moments when you find that you’ve been singing to yourself lines like “she’s my backstage queen and I’m the fucking king of obscene”.
Liquid Meat also know how to market themselves. Their intriguing website is well put together and brands the band in a very marketable fashion. This is where you can purchase the album exclusively and direct from the band themselves. Their Youtube clips are also entertaining. The best place to keep track of their gigs and other band happenings is on their Facebook page. For all other enquiries, email them at [email protected]
Written by Scott Andrews