Buñuel — Killers Like Us
Buñuel is a noisy experimental punk rock outfit with members from Italy and the United States. Killers Like Us is the bands 3rd album. It is a project of renowned veteran vocalist Eugene Robinson(Oxbow), whose work I admit I have previously never heard.
With a highly overdriven fuzz pedal tone, the distortion here is as ashy and obliterated as a vintage black metal recording. The gritty basement feeling extends to the rhythm section: the clanky, weighty tone of the picked bass guitar, and the drumming, which is straight out of a 90's hardcore record. This group owes a lot to the dirty blues-infused noise rock of early groups like '90s The Jesus Lizard and Steve Albini projects like Big Black and Shellac.
Eugene Robinson's half-spoken, half-yelled vocals remind me of MC Ride's performances in Death Grips, the shouted voice piercing the bed of underlying distortion in a similar manner with a sarcastic, post-emotional apocalyptic effect. The inebriated feeling, disoriented texts recall David Yow, as well as The Birthday Party, Yow's own influences. There's a Tom Waits-y rasp in his voice, though Eugene's chosen mannerisms are more frantic, his typical utterance being a shriek or growl rather than a whisper or croon. Each word drastically changes inflection, almost becoming an entirely new character to express each successive line. "Too much... Too much! TOO MUCH! ... all this god damn MUCK. Fuck!" he shouts on "Roll Call", in a highly relatable fashion.
The backing instrumentals aren't as jarring or busy as a lot of the aforementioned groups, opting for a minimalist approach closer to doom metal or midtempo stoner rock. The relative simplicity of the riffing draws more attention to the vocals, which is certainly not a bad thing in light of Eugene's amazing performance on this recording. The guitar blends into the music more often than taking a lead role, and the percussive thickness of the post-punk basslines often draws central focus as well.
The melodic moments of the album, like the 4th track "Crack Shot", come as a welcome surprise, with an uncredited guest vocalist that lends a bit of space rock flavor to the song. The otherwise spoken piece "For the Cops" ends in a cathartic crooned section by Robinson, whose voice quivers with raw feeling. The band also demonstrates an ability to play at a variety of tempos, with D beat bangers like "Roll Call" placed alongside the post-metal slowness of harrowingly dark eight-minute closer "Even the Jungle".
This is a near-perfect album in my estimation, matching the creativity and dramatic flair of the group's influences. Eugene provides a singularly intense and unique perspective, shedding light on a great many subconscious thoughts in the mumbled, broken rhythm of his utterances. I applaud the combination of this surreal poetic style with grim punk and metal. The startling quality of albums like this should dispel the feeling that the heyday of noisy punk bands has passed.