A friend of mine heard this album at my house and said it sounded like a really stoned Slayer. I can see what he meant, in a way. Over the years, the currents of music have moved such that the closest peers to Unsane's sound tend to be stoner bands, who have the same deliberate, plodding approach to pacing, and a similar predilection for raw, expansive tones. On the other hand, there's a will to dissonance and a kernel of sheer aggression that parallels the feel, in not the actual idiom, of the more misanthropic thrash and death bands. On their sixth album, Unsane have lost none of the truculent, methodical mean disposition displayed right from their self-titled debut. In fact, their style hasn't really changed in any significant way, which may be a good thing considering how NY post-hardcore noise scene-mates Helmet seemed to want tong to best the nu-metallers at their own game at one point.

On Visqueen, Unsane stick to a tightly defined sound, with deliberate builds, pulsing riffs and an overall effect of brooding menace, a style that has hardly drifted over the years. On the other hand, they have certainly progressed within the bounds of their art, delivering an album that is as pure, distilled and refined on its own terms as you could hope for. The songs are all concise and definitive, from the brief, chilling intro that sets up 'Against The Grain', through the almost-groovy riff, inter-cut with occasional blasts of what sounds like a tormented harmonica on 'This Stops At The River', the stop-start precision rhythm overlayed with squeal-enhanced descending motiffs of 'Line On The Wall' to the mesmeric sludge of the epic album closer, 'East Broadway'. The cumulative effect is one of awed numbness, comparable to the aftermath of sitting through an especially well-paced and relentless redneck gore movie - something like the Platonic ideal of a Tobe Hooper classic, all barbed-wire and battery acid sadism perpetrated by lurching, plodding, implacable inbred tormenters.

Chris Spencer's voice is a world-hating laceration, placed low in the mix, while his guitar buzzes and hums and dominates the sound field without crowding it out. Dave Curran's clanking bass and Vincent Signorelli's unremitting drum attack do no more or less than they should, which is to anchor this sound on a solid bedrock pulse. Too much detail in the arrangements would detract from the impact of this sound, while an overly leaden rhythm section (think Crazy Horse) would totally sap all the life from it; the rhythm section here are right on the mark, though, which is no mean achievement.

Year of release: 2007