Modern Life Is War return with a new album that brings together the three volumes of the Tribulation Worksongs into a single release.

Modern Life Is War were initially active between 2002 and 2008, releasing three full lengths, the most acclaimed of which was, perhaps, 2005’s Witness.  They were to prove a defining band in the wave of melodic hardcore that came to shape that decade.  But while most of their contemporaries emerged from traditional coastal hardcore centres, MLIW hailed from Iowa, imbuing their music with a distinctive Midwestern accent.  A voice that favoured politics with a small ‘p’, framed in a humane, ground-up perspective and rooted in a clear sense of the value of community.

The band reformed in 2012, releasing a new album, Fever Hunting, in 2013 and then a series of three 7-inches – each a volume of the Tribulation Worksongs.  This LP is a compilation of the tracks that spanned this series.  Now, typically, with a compilation of 7-inch material, you might expect some unevenness.  But, in fact, there is a powerful coherency that unites the tracks, both sonically and thematically.  Indeed, as aesthetically lovely as the EPs were (vocalist Jeffrey Eaton typed the lyrics to each song on his vintage typewriter), the songs as a musical statement build even more impact in this unified, reordered form.

The album opens with Feels Like End Times and Revival Fires, two classically constructed MLIW tracks – raw, impassioned vocals interplay with lean, darkly melodic guitars, and a surging rhythm section, defined by peaks of almost winding emotional intensity.  Both tracks tackle the social and economic malaise gripping the US heartlands, the former tackling its political exploitation (‘Find another working class apologist. I am not your shill’) and the latter a plea for renewal (‘This land was begging for breath and pleading to be peeled back’).  The side closes with the raucous, swinging Survival, which adapts the lyrics to Marcia Griffith’s reggae classic of the same title.

The flipside opens with the darkly brooding Lonesome Valley Ammunitions (‘Steal someone else’s dreams, to satisfy your own’).  Then follows the slow burn, spoken word brilliance of Indianapolis Talking Blues (‘Countless broken backs for countless useless products’), the impact of which is ferociously amplified by segueing into a rollicking cover of The Stooges’ I Wanna Be Your Dog, before End Times Dub, a percussion fuelled remix of the opening track, brings the album to a thunderous conclusion.