THOU: UMBILICAL
LP | CD | DL
Out Now
Thou have let loose a new LP that blows the doors off genre boundaries and slams speakers to pieces with ten tracks of the gnarliest, heaviest, filthiest and most articulate Sludge on the planet.
Is Umbilical powerful and exciting enough to finally supersede Heathen, their legendary cornerstone release from ten years ago? Or has the band released a collection of forgettable boilerplate songs, best left forgotten?
Clue: it’s not the latter, but your intrepid reporter, Sean Millard, wades the sweaty swamps of Louisiana to make sure.
To call out the Big Four of Louisiana Sludge Metal is academic, personal and very much open to bickering. Let’s assume, though, for the sake of this opening statement, that I am referring to Eyehategod, Crowbar, Soilent Green and Thou. Season to taste with Down, or Acid Bath, as you see fit.
The point is that in a 19 year career, Thou have been so prolific that they have released more records than the rest of the genre’s genre put together.
Theirs is a discography so complex, entwined and multi-routed that numerous articles try to list everything and explain the intricacies of it all. They are constantly busy; whether that’s writing, recording, touring, running their own NOLA record/book/zine store (Sisters in Christ), being DIY activists or working out who’s left to pair up with on the next collaborative release. They are busy bunnies.
Just in the last twelve months, they have re-released their last LP Magus, an astonishing double LP of Nirvana covers, a triple LP compilation re-release of three EPs, including a 10” acoustic demo disc, the soundtrack to another video game and a forthcoming tour which takes them all over Australia and New Zealand with Full of Hell throughout August. All this as well as the biggie – Umbilical, on uber-stylish label, Sacred Bones Records, out of Brooklyn, New York.
It’s exhausting, in the most enviable and admirable way.
I don’t believe that Thou have ever disappointed. Some releases are stronger than others; the aforementioned Heathen is an obvious highlight, but debut album Tyrant, last LP Magus and the slightly left-field collaborations with Emma Ruth Rundle from 2020 are all definitely worth tracking down.
But Umbilical is something else, entirely; there is an urgency, articulation and necessity to it. Difficult to define, but inherent in its voice from the moment the needle comes down. There is a surety and conviction in the tone of opener Narcissist’s Prayer that makes you sit up and notice. You’re suddenly aware you’re witnessing something out of the ordinary. Something special.
It’s interesting to see how the band’s sound evolves; I don’t feel it’s accurate to call them Sludge Metal – they’re more than that. There’s more punk and hardcore in their DIY philosophy, delivery and attitude than metal, anyway – they stand alone; genre-less.
They couldn’t sound less like Crowbar, so even heralding them as peers of the Louisiana Sludge bands feels lazy – and on Umbilical you can hear how their writing has been informed by the Nirvana covers – differentiating them even further. On The Promise and Panic Stricken, I Flee – the two track centrepiece of side two – it is most evident; the latter track echoes Blew and Lounge Act throughout, albeit smeared with the most vile and sticky noise and distortion, which creates something new entirely.
It’s definitely not derivative.
Theirs is a rich tableau of riffage. Overwhelming in its bleak abrasion. You must work to pick the details out. Like panning for gold, you know there’s incredible beauty and real value somewhere within in that seething wall of noise; you need to sift and find it. It is that act of mining, that investment, that pays off so well and makes the record feel so meaningful.
House of Ideas, side one’s closer, is a stand out track with its incessant Melvins-esque monotonous riffing breakdown. Its rhythmic insistence draws you into its groove, shrouding you in its hand-knitted, hypnotic, cosy blanket. Moments later, that same soft furnishing is being used to suffocate you before it spits you out on the floor like a baby bird that’s fallen from its nest; twitching, exposed and vulnerable, once the band crashes back in again. It’s really exciting.
But the riffs are only part of the package. Follow the lyrics and you realise that the screams that so breathlessly spit from the speakers aren’t mere incoherent angst-ridden gibberish; they are fiendishly well considered and articulate. House of Ideas rages against the drudgery of low expectation, compromise and a lack of creativity in society. Funck yells: “Feckless servants, the extension of a non-creative will. Make the compromise to bring ruin in the palace of imagination… if that’s moving up, I’m moving out!”.
Try telling me that’s not a unique lyrical angle.
Funck’s so angry, it’s inspiring. His relish is exemplified by perhaps the most jaded and hateful song title of 2024: I Feel Nothing When You Cry, which fills one side of an additional seven inch single as part of the vinyl package. The two tracks on the single should not be considered addendums, though; they fit and flow with the whole piece. I first listened to the album digitally and they were just part of that track-listing. They are cohesive bedfellows.
The only reason this is a 9.5 and not a ten is the recording. Don’t mistake me; Umbilical’s sound is ace – deep, huge and FULL. I can’t help, though, but go back to Heathen. It’s a recording I particularly admire because of its space and clarity. I wonder what these ten tracks would sound like with that same lucidity?
The vinyl is available in a couple of different variants. I got hold of the gold LP and gold single. There’s also a black version and mixed pack of black and gold. As with all Sacred Bones releases, there’s a consistency and attention to detail with the presentation that shines through. From print quality to the double sided card stock. The lyric sheet insert is really nicely done – and offers that revelation of real artistry in the wordsmithery.
The insert also contains the best dedication I think I’ve ever read on a sleeve: “This album is dedicated to the failures, the disappointments, the shambling spectres humbled and bent by the daily tithings of inevitable compromise.”
Thankfully, there’s not the vaguest sniff of compromise on Umbilical. It’s one piece of unadulterated single-minded disappointment, melancholy and rage. Together, again, Thou prove that those most ugly have the potential for the most beauty. And the most noise.
What a great album.
~
All words by Sean Millard
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