‘Sit in your bed, Pretend you’re on trial, Feel the sting, Of imagined betrayal, Hallucinate the bars, Of the social cage, Wanna be erased?’ (Memory Ward)

Imagine stumbling through a thick, swirling fog, so viscous that it seems to cling to your very skin.  Fleetingly it clears, only for you to be swiftly swallowed by the next swelling bank.  All the while, stinging blows rain down on you incessantly and from the most unexpected of angles.  There is nowhere to hide, no respite to be found.

This is the self-titled debut album from Phoenix’s Memory Ward, and it is a viscerally claustrophobic one.  It is an intrinsically abrasive, densely layered battery, one that continually threatens to overwhelm, while never losing total control of the aural chaos as each track bleeds into the next.  The atmosphere is fraught with unease and anxiety.  You are left reeling as the convulsions violently unfurl from the punishing Drowned Fool to the lacerating Social Order, and the psychedelic tinged grooves of Vivid Blue.

The blown-out distortion can’t hide the nimble angularity of the blisteringly rapid guitars, while the welcome flares of dissonant melody are swiftly smothered by the next wave of discordance.  The rhythm section is utterly frenetic, complex patterns delivered with a primitive abandon.  The caustically raw vocals lock-in with these manic rhythms, drenched in despair as they contemplate the isolation and self-doubt that flourish amid the detritus of an atomising society.  The throbbing atonal feedback that closes the album comes almost as a cleanser, clearing the mind before you plunge back into the tumult.