Iceage release their searing You're Nothing today. It's a refinement on the scuzzy, blown out punk of their first album, New Brigade, and the first steps toward a more mature sound. For most bands, maturity means haphazardly screwing with electronics or softening the sound in the same way the body softens through age and neglect. You're Nothing is definitely not a case of the former, nary an instrument except for a guitar, drums, or bass (with the odd piano) assaults the senses; and if anything, the opposite is true of the latter. This is a more dissonant album, exploring the functions and textures of noise in traditional song structures, that also veers into angrier lyrical territory. "Morals" could only be construed as a ballad insomuch as it includes a piano and starts off mid-tempo. By the time frontman Elias Bender Rønnenfelt begins barking "Where's your morals?" in the closest-thing-you-can-call-a-chorus you know this isn't a song, or an album, that will comfort you.
This is an album that understands that aging doesn't necessarily make you wiser, just infinitely more confused. "Everything Drifts" and "Wounded Hearts" are a solemn combination that revel in human frailty. But You're Nothing also finds resilience in the fact that we're fucked. "Awake" is probably the closest the band has come to writing something that could be considered uplifting. It's not a "we will carry on" mantra but it offers a call to kick against the pricks. And then the title track seems to contort it's spiteful insult into a rallying crazy similar to Johnny Rotten's sneering of "NO FUTURE!" becoming a self-identifier for disaffected English youth as much as its intended putdown.
You're Nothing isn't a pleasant slog, but it's one you'll feel better for having committed to.
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