From Statues, a Swedish group founded in the 90s and reuniting after past rebrands, is described as “nothing new but it never gets old”, citing inspiration from Husker Du, Sugar, and Sonic Youth (“or just the whole SST label”, Statues’ writeup cheekily claims). “Big Freeze”, from their upcoming album Dopamine, introduces the band’s refined sound right away: kick drums at the forefront herald the growing sound of nostalgically noisy riffs. This comes to us after the band’s debut album (recorded with Fredrik Lyxzén and mixed by Christian Ramirez, with credit given as well to renowned Swedish poet and musician Mattias Alkberg) and single releases in early 2018, and given the retro, pumped-up sound Statues delivers in “Big Freeze”, the group—like wine—has only gotten better and more potent with age.
While I struggled to pick out Big Freeze’s lyrics, something that stood out to me was the unmistakable influence of past ventures in the vocalist’s performance. Statues’ past identities ventured into punk, pop-punk, and experimental noise, describing the band’s earliest days as one that “wanted to play indiepop but couldn’t”; I mention this because those pasts come forth in the resulting distinct, unique mix of passionate, belting highs and sensitive, near-mumbling lows. Something about the delivery of these vocals, as well, gives a feeling of taking a necessary stride with confidence—but entirely on one’s own.
Instrumentally, a wall of distorted electric guitar slams against the ear with all the vim and vigor of the indie offshoots of punk rock in its infancy. A repeated motif, used functionally to connect each verse to the song’s chorus (as well as to the key change in its bridge), utilizes that distortion and amp fuzz to significant effect over a pair of scratching upward glissandi to produce a wild growl. The drum kit leans heavily towards toms and kick, with the snappy snare reserved for emphasis and buildup alongside crash cymbals.
To conclude on a technical note, something I applaud in “Big Freeze” is explicitly their smooth modulation when changing the song’s key near its conclusion. It’s subtle enough to miss until attuning the ear finely enough; the song’s hype-inspiring post-chorus is taken up a single step, guided by a slight upward movement in the bass that leaves the listener just as comfortable in the new key as they were in the old. Oftentimes, I notice songs nowadays that either must make a grand spectacle of the whole affair of moving up the circle of fifths or make no attempt to modulate at all and instead clumsily stumble into a new key with nary a measure in place to adjust the audience’s ears at all. Statues’ past shines through once more in their mastery and expertise over their craft, proving an ability to astonish with no need for flashy gestures to do so.
For readers and listeners who crave the sound that’s kept a smile on the faces of those of us who rage against the system, be it in youth or one’s twilight years, since the heat of rock ‘ n ‘ roll’s evolution into its many subgenres in the 1970s and 80s, give Statues a listen. The band’s current discography, albums, and singles are available for streaming on Spotify now.
Written by Alexei Lee
