Women - Public Strain

Women’s self-titled debut, released in North America in 2008 and our side of the pond early last year, was an accomplished one: the Canadian art rockers crafted a compelling din that flitted between engrossing drones and distorted lo-fi noise pop. A slow-burning word-of-mouth success, the only slight criticism you could have levelled at it was that in places it felt a tad sketchy or unfinished. There’s no such problem with follow-up album Public Strain, however, which sees the Albertan quartet well and truly honing its aesthetic. The result is a record that’s every bit as coherent as it is compelling, and as fine an example as you’re likely to find of a band taking things to the next level.

Opening track ‘Can’t You See’ sets the tone and reels you right in. A backing track of swarming metal machine music combines with Patrick Flegel’s submersed but unmistakeable vocals to create a hypnotic, disorientating brew. This is immediately backed up by ‘Heat Distraction’, which sounds like nothing other than a lost track from Marquee Moon: two tracks in, Women’s powerful contrast between the formless and the structured is already evident.

One of the things that strikes you about Public Strain is its overall sound and aesthetic: murky, distorted, and abrasive, at times it sounds like they’re using the same guitar tunings (or indeed screwdrivers) as pre-Daydream Nation Sonic Youth. The knockout one-two punch of ‘Untogether’ and ‘Drag Open’, in particular, utilise the kind of harsh, scratchy tones and driving rhythms that wouldn’t have sounded out of place on Confusion Is Sex. Standout track ’China Steps’, meanwhile, lays down a motorik-like rhythm before puncturing it with piercing guitar stabs to create an anxious but undeniable groove. Be warned, though: Flegel’s vocals may be a deal-breaker for some, his voice frequently just as dissonant as the surrounding barrage of instruments.

Elsewhere, tracks like ‘Venice Lockjaw’  and ‘Penal Colony’ sound drugged-out and bleary, a contrast to the taut, jittery energy on display elsewhere. Closing track ‘Eyesore’ rounds it all off superbly – a spiky, skewed pop song that’s a close cousin of ‘Black Rice’ from that first album, it gradually builds to a subtle but well-judged climax. Women don’t have much time for second-album syndrome, then: this is the joyous sound of a band refining and developing their sound without a hint of compromise.