UNIFORM
Shame
SACRED BONES
NY noise rockers unearth their psychological wreckage
Have you ever wondered what the protagonists of the pulp and celluloid world do and think about when they’re not out saving the world while balancing a chip on one shoulder and their darkened flaws on the other? The third album by New York’s Uniform looks beyond tough-guy pursuits like dust-ups in piss-soaked alleys, deliberate liver-punishing and dalliances with femme fatales to tap into the psychology of the at-rest anti-hero. As you might imagine, a bleak, disquieting air permeates when the tortured, fictional and actual, are left alone with their unchecked thoughts. Shame - in addition to being a remarkably apropos title - uses a mixture of militaristic early industrial metal harshness and sewer-worthy noise rock in the sonic representation of successful prime movers recognising the futility of quelling their mental health issues and loneliness with intoxicants before screaming about it.