Buñuel make darkly fascinating music, a compelling noise noir that shuns the obvious routes but is still swift and direct. In their nocturnal world it is late, maybe too late, and the streets thrum with menace. That Mansuetude takes its name from an old word that means something akin to gentleness is, on the face of it, a grim joke, but while their music is undoubtedly heavy it isn’t brutish. They don’t bludgeon you. At least, not continually. Agile and agitated they’re quick on their feet, intimidating more for their unpredictable edge than their outbursts of force.
Eugene Robinson has never seemed the type to pussyfoot around, so let’s not swerve that Oxbow, the band he’s best known for fronting, came to a sudden and dramatic end this summer. This release follows hard on that news but Mansuetude (and seemingly another Oxbow record) was already in the can. Buñuel are not ‘what Eugene did next’,. This is their fourth album, intended to be a step on and to the side from their initial trilogy. Time and close listening might be required to really absorb any changes. They are only becoming more themselves. It’s still tough, smart, rock music.
Shifts in Robinson’s lyrical concerns are also subtle to the point of obscure. He’s still loitering in the dark corners of the human soul, drawn to its complications, practised at tracing what is hidden. It’s more crime, sex, and violence then. Chaotic rocker ‘Drug Burn’ concerns tales from his friend, the former meth king of Oklahoma. A nod to both Camus and The Cure on the mysterious ‘A Killing On The Beach’ is surprisingly musically bright. There’s a cinematic quality to the album, sometimes suggesting a narrative arc that isn’t necessarily there. These songs are not linked chapters of a story as such. Perhaps the clearest example of this, ‘High.Speed.Chase’, does exactly what it says on the label: a manic, accelerating, burner with Robinson wondering “who wants to die?”
Robinson tends to draw focus but the band are a formidable force. While their roots in noise rock are unmistakable they’re never content to work through worn-out, old patterns. New wave, thrash metal, free jazz and abstract soundtracks are all included here, each becoming a natural part of their own sound. They consider Mansuetude to be a three-sided double album should you be format sensitive. It’s an hour long, which isn’t that unusual. More importantly, it doesn’t outstay its welcome. My patience has been tried by much shorter records. For all the writhing in pain and darkness, there is something clean and lean about it. In a busy season for noise rockers old and new, this may well be the most impressive of the bunch.
