Women - Public Strain

Jagjaguwar

August 23rd, 2010.

Calgary's quintessential Post-Punkers Women released their final album Public Strain on this day in 2010. The searingly-cold aesthetics that were set on their 2008 self-titled debut were cemented with this album. From the get-go - "Can't You See" - it's apparent that we're in the middle of a cold, cold world. A harshness pumps the records heartbeat, keeps it upright. Cold-blooded phonics reflective of an environment stripped bare is a decent sonic description of Public Strain. A premonition of sorts, the callously cold world of Public Strain seemingly knew of an end in sight. 

Scrap heaps and barren land. I could see for miles, if there was something to see. The only thing out here is the horizon - where the sky meets dirt. A chaotic coming together. Sweet, sweet dissonance. As angular as angular gets. Nothing more than 90 degrees of sonic sharpness. Acute tones. Slicingly cold. Closed off from all external interactions; some internal ones too. The gap between life wanted and life lived grows wider every day. Dragged open by your own actions. I found myself awake and walking, down the wrong path. With eyes shut I move my limbs. They take me to places I've seen in my dreams. Fever dreams. Lucid lands. Pin-eyed bright. A shock to the system. Electrically charged tips - numb and no fun. Buzzing with phantom pain. 

The guitar tones on "China Steps" would put hair on your chest and singe off whatever hair you already had - you come out the other side of the track a new man. "Drag Open" does a good job of this also. Like nails on a chalkboard the track delves deeper and deeper into sonic insanity - it remains catchy as hell on the chorus though; addictively listenable, like it scratches an itch within your ear. 

A face turned away in shame. Unable to look at it's own reflection. The light reveals what's not seen. The most beautiful of trees fall the most disgusting of dead leaves. Fumbled through time. Weak grip. Withered souls. The squeak of a seesaw in an abandoned building somewhere far off plays. Who's turn is it to entertain the haunt? 

Somewhere between serated and searing, Public Strain is the sonic equivalent of getting caught out in a blizzard - not too far from what the album artwork would suggest. You shiver, and shiver, and shiver. The cold couldn't care less. Just as you think the curtains are about to close, it gets worse. Bone deep turns soul deep. Brain freeze all over. Not a nerve left unhurt. Not a piece left unturned. Laid bare for yourself to see. 

Public Strain is one of the finest albums ever made.

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Duster - Contemporary Movement