Dead Confederate: Wrecking Ball

The term 'Rock' has pretty much become the branching-title for anything alternative nowadays.

Post-Rock, Indie-Rock, Pop-Rock, Hard-Rock, Soft-Rock, Blues-Rock, the list goes on and on and on and so it's wildly refreshing to finally hear a band that are determined to put the ROCK back into the word Rock (if you understand what we mean).

Dead Confederate are a relatively new band and Wrecking Ball is their début full-length but (more importantly) what it also happens to be is a near-triumph in the art of loud music-making. It has faults of course, but they're easily shrugged off once you find yourself lost in the audible thunderstorm that D.C so easily seem to conjure within their own respective positions.

It's dense, hard, grungy rock and it's a lot to take in with just a single listen. Let's just say prepare to be battered and shaken on the first few runs through. But the end result will be worthwhile.

Album opener Heavy Petting is a great way to introduce the blasting journey ahead with a nasty, fuzzy guitar as it's ragged core and a surrounding of constant, rhythmic drums. Vocalist Hardy Morris is a savage and sorrowful force throughout the entire record, spitting lyrics with the kind of passion you won't often see on a début record and the same can be said for the dense atmosphere. They hold themselves like a band ready for a Best Of, not a group just three years into their career and with only an EP under their belt.

They span a good decades worth of rock in the near hour the record plays out, kicking up nostalgic dust-plumes of Nirvana-era grunge and yet still keeping firm footing within the 'here' and the 'now'. Gravelly moans and remorseful squeals streak the album with a Manchester Orchestra-like poignancy but instead of honing in on that emotional crux as the focal point of the record (just like Manchester Orchestra do), they instead put the rock first, breaking any sentimental ties with the slide of a guitar and the smash of drum. 

The Rat, possibly the record's most well known track is testament to their melancholic, unrepentant rock persona and burns slowly but solidly from a moody, sludgy moan into an intense, thick cry for help. It doesn't scream 'highlight' at first but give it time and you honestly won't be able to stop yourself from shouting along every time it breaks.

There's definitely an air of over-seriousness surrounding the CD and it's a near impossible task to pin-point a single genuinely joyous moment from any of the ten songs. We aren't necessarily complaining but are considerately forewarning any hopeful and misled readers instead. It's a mature, fervent LP that's equally moving as it is awkwardly smothering and it can easily deter if you enter with muddled preconceptions. With time and an open mind, Wrecking Ball can be one of the most rewarding LP's of the year.

The twelve minute Flesh Coloured Canvas is a sprawling, progressive body of work that unfolds slowly as the minutes tick by. It's drastic at moments, tender and dejected at the next but are all tightly knitted together thanks to frontman Hardy Morris' captivating vocals. It's an enthralling, epic piece of music that will perhaps grow weary with repeated listens but trust us, you won't forget the first play through of this track.

Wrecking Ball is exactly what it's title describes it to be; an audible wrecking ball that is both ruthless and unique on the exterior and yet fragile and captivating under it's iron skin. You can't ignore it's lengthy duration and frenzied structure but you can forgive it when the music rocks this damn hard.