Suicide Note

You’re to be forgiven if upon initial listen to Suicide Note’s anticipated Too Sick To Dance (Forever Fucked) you’re thrown for a moment or 12. Gone is the effortless melding of melody and metallic hardcore, the cleanly sung choruses and contrasting heaviness. Well, maybe not completely erased, just evolved. It seems Suicide Note weren’t happy with becoming the next Drowningman (what with their return and all) and decided to take the road less travelled. Who knew the Didjits’ covers on their Breather Resist split weren’t just odd one-offs but the shape of things to come. Granted, the slow, grinding, abrasive elements interspersed on their last full-length, You’re Not Looking So Good, are still present, as is the hardcore punk influence, but the songs seem equally split between dirty, spastic rock that’s almost danceable and mid-paced cycling noise dirge (some with organ). There’s even a pretty acoustic lament or two ("Los Angeles”), while "Victory Song” isn’t far removed from the Kittens. Anyone looking for the hooks of "Come On Save Me” should look elsewhere, although the "let’s get fired up!” shout-along of "Let’s Get Hit” is infectious. Say what you will, but there’s no doubting that Suicide Note have planted a flag, choosing to eschew every current trend in the hardcore underground. It’s a record like this that’s called genius years after the fact.