In 2018, can anything sound truly authentic? Everything is a rehash of everything that came before it. It’s already hard enough for new releases to escape the confines of genre, and our obsession to attach a neatly tied label on anything even remotely exciting doesn’t exactly help move things along. But in times where the occasional oddball does reveal itself, its alien characteristics create its own separate source for spectacle.
Although it’s easy to pinpoint a few of their distinguishable features, there’s still no other way of wording it, I’ve never heard anything that sounds quite like D.U.D.S. The band’s 2017 debut, ‘Of A Nature Or Degree’, presented itself as the official declaration to their music’s myriad manifesto – a take on Manchester post-punk never before executed with such jaunty and defining character. Speaking this time last year to Loud And Quiet, singer and guitarist Giulio Erasmus described it as “a slinky rolling down the stairs.” It’s a great analogy and he’s right. It’s like D.U.D.S are routinely tripping up and falling into the back of themselves, each time repeating in completely contrasting and calamitous fashion.
Their new album, ‘Immediate’, continues to expand on this theme, except this time by rubbing shoulders with some of the Manchester music scene’s more discernible traits. Introducing brass sections and a more industrial punch, the charming calculated clumsiness of their debut suddenly feels cold and sinister. If you didn’t pick up on it before, you certainly can now – ‘Immediate’ is smeared with the sort of Manchester grit that can be found only within the walls of the northern stronghold.
Pretty much all of ‘Immediate’ is baffling to get through. Broken up into twelve tracks, each no longer than two minutes thirty, it remains inconceivable how so much can be squashed and jammed into each fleeting section. Each song explodes into its own sporadic symphony, every time fulfilling its bizarre theme or purpose. From the triumphant fanfare of ‘Humour and Friction’ to the otherworldly industrial clang of the title track, ‘Immediate’ just sort of happens before your eyes with no chance of clarity or straightforward answers.
Strangely detectable themes run through tracks like ‘Nu Nu Nu’, which feels like the soundtrack to a weird ’80s crime series, except the serial killer wins and murders all the protagonists in the most brutal and fucked up way possible. It’s this kind of shock factor and unexpectedness that engrains D.U.D.S’ music so clearly in your head. There aren’t any single standout tracks and there doesn’t have to be – ‘Immediate’ is quite literally immediate upon making impact and is one of the most convincing and standalone sounds to reach our ears this year.
Support Loud And Quiet from £3 per month and we'll post you our next 9 magazines
As all of us are constantly reminded, it’s getting harder for independent publishers to stay in business, which applies to Loud And Quiet more now than ever, 14 years after we first started printing a magazine that we’ve always given away for free.
Having thought about the best way to support our running costs (the printing and distribution fees, the podcast and production costs etc.) we’d like to ask our readers who really enjoy what we do to subscribe to our next 9 issues over the next 12 months. The cheapest we can afford to do this for works out at £3 per month for UK subscribers, charged yearly.
If that seems like a bit of a punt, you can pay-as-you-go for £4 per month and cancel any time you like. European and world plans are available too, at the lowest rate we can afford.
It’s not just a donation – you’ll receive a physical copy of our magazine through your door and some extra perks detailed on our subscribe page. Digital subscriptions are available worldwide for £15 per year. We hope you consider this a good deal and the best way to keep Loud And Quiet in your life without its content, independence or existence suffering.