A multi-award-winning experience of what it’s like to live in constant fear, from rookie Hungarian director László Nemes
Icarus Line : Mono
Fine noise from white-hot LA punks
their fences and may yet get back together after a little rest. In the meantime, here's The Icarus Line, an almighty fucking racket from LA that sounds like At The Drive-In throwing heavy things at the Jesus Lizard while The Stooges keep the cops busy outside.
It's savage. 'Love Is Happiness' opens with a bloodcurdling holler and the sound of eight feet crushing effects pedals into tinder, before a wave of bile and amphetamine and paranoia washes them away. By the time track two stumbles in - the louche Lizard judder of 'You Make Me Nervous' - 'singer' Joe Cardamone has lost his voice, his money, your money, his faith and all his clothes too, probably.
The Icarus Line are "depressed by the smiles, the phonies and the fakes" and write out their lyrics like punk bands do, all in one stream-of-dementia gush, which is just as well because you'll never make them out otherwise. And you'll want to. Their guitars
sound like desperate telegraph signals from a fault line that's breaking.
It's not all spite and discontent made music; there's some songs about girls that meander into an arty fug ('In Lieu'). But mostly The Icarus Line are up there, controls set for the heart of the sun.
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