Pissed Jeans: King Of Jeans

Pissed Jeans. Say it with us right now. "Pissed". "Jeans".

Now we didn't want to go into this review with assumptions before listening but from what we've heard previous to this (two records precede this third release) coupled with that ridiculous album cover and a name that we refuse to take seriously, it was little difficult if we're honest. Consider the well already slightly poisoned.

They seem to have more bark but less bite than you'd expect from a noise-punk collective grotesquely titled as they are. Although it's a definite shocker on the first spin, it slowly becomes less unsettling and more annoying the more times it's played.

Shouted lyrics and jarring electric guitar may sound loud, abrasive and lots of fun, sure, but the lyrics are mostly unimpressive (when actually audible) and there's too many sections where the band seem sure they're 'totally rocking out' but really, the song-writing is bordering on amateur. Saying that, it's unfair to state that they're genuinely untalented as a collective because, quite the opposite, their technical ability is actual a little impressive, folding heavy guitars over noisy, abrasive drums but just managing to keep everything from falling to pieces.

Intro track False Jesii Part 2 takes a fair few listens to properly appreciate but admittedly, there's a god damn awesome rhythm held underneath its grating vocals. They obviously know what they're doing, but alas, they just seem to think that shock value is more effective at displaying their true talents.

Every part of the instrumentation on Half Idiot stands as testament to what the band are capable of but it's still tainted by the vocals. Gravely tones and pissed-off lyrics are understandable, screaming squeals and hoarse shouting with emotional wording on top can often work wonders but half-arsed, throaty wailing and nonsensical noises are just not appealing whatsoever, even behind slightly well-crafted punk. Just because your influences used a certain nonchalance to their anarchic lyricism doesn't mean you can try and build upon it with more embarrassing attempts at sounding like a blood-soaked car engine in three-quarters of your songs. 

For the majority of the album, it's the noise aspects of the record which personally invites and pleases us more than anything else. They swathe their riffs and melodies in twisted feedback and shattering cymbals, creating a wall of sound that starts as one hell of an obstacle on the initial listen but morphs into a genuine plus-point once you've settled within the chaos. It's almost got that Future Of The Left insanity running through it but it’s never as tightly knit nor as dry and witty as FOTL’s intelligent, hilarious and all-together brilliantly aggressive alternative-rock. Human Upskirt portrays that statement perfectly with a break-neck pace, violent guitars and fit-inducing volume, all encapsulated in barely two minutes of breathless fury. It's a slice of undeniably energy that Polaroid snapshots the band at their most brutal and captivating.

We're in two minds about Pissed Jeans; on the one hand they have one of the worst band names and album artwork known to man as well as a whole heap of confused, offensive material that never fully satisfies but on the other, it's so wickedly frenzied and cacophonous when the mood is right that we can't help but recommend it, if only just a little.