The Jesus Lizard couldn’t have been bothered and Black Rebel Motorcycle Club lacked the balls. And while A Place To Bury Strangers New York City cool is undeniably palpable, it’s their musical chops and vision that force me to listen hard. They’ve found the perfect balance between anger and anonymity. This past June saw the release of Worship,the bands third full length record and I can’t get enough of this moody mess.
Billy Idol used to snarl one lip and churn out sleazy, glam-drenched ditties that reeked of Hollywood excess. A Place To Bury Strangers flaunt that same attitude but do so with a serious east coast after hours twitch. This stuff is made for all nighters. Living room lamps with dark, flickering bulbs. It’s the score for your early morning stumble down a littered Brooklyn street. The subway entrance is up ahead, but all that matters is getting a cigarette lit.
Unlike My Bloody Valentine or English oddballs Clinic, A Place To Bury Strangers craft fuzzy yet concise noise rock with more substance than style. The feedback rings and the bass throbs, but it’s not for effect. Worship may follow a blueprint a decade in the making, but the band isn’t afraid to take chances while staying true to the pulse that put them on the map to begin with.