Couch : Profane
German post-rock - it shouldn't work, but does
It’s not the sexiest recommendation in rock’n’roll, but Couch give great drums. Not in a, “hey, look at the size of our paradiddles” way, thankfully,
but in a way that shows a profound appreciation of the power of stick on skin.
The vibe is very much being stalked around dimly lit city streets, the sound phat and oppressive. ’12 Sind Nur 4′ is typical, repetitive guitar riffs and figures lingered over, then carefully broken down to an itchy fervour – the whole thing suddenly rushing off in a beautifully bleak Krautrock charge. The production is as spare and elemental as anything Steve Albini has been involved in but at the same time, Couch have an almost cinematic grasp of tension and texture.
‘Profane’, Couch’s fourth album, certainly isn’t going to kick-start any parties, and ‘Meine Marke’ – with its passionless precision plucking and funereal pace – is a good example of why post-rock has alienated so many people.
But Couch frequently achieve a gently melodic fury that’s both cerebral and brutal, grim yet powerfully visceral.