Virgin Music
Out Now
Words by Kris Peters
I have to admit to pulling rank to review The Cup Of Pestilence, Frenzal Rhomb’s first album in 6 years and one which pretty much came out of nowhere.
My history with Frenzal Rhomb dates back to the late 1990s in Cairns when I first met frontman Jason Whalley playing pool between the all-ages afternoon show and the night show with Grinspoon at the Playpen.
That game of pool (which I think I won from memory) led to Jason setting up a table and chairs complete with a bottle of vodka, orange juice, two chairs and a rose (fuck knows where he pulled that from) right next to bass player Lex and informing me that’s how a show should be watched.
I even forgave him for getting me up to sing Get Fucked You Fucken Fuckwit – which I fucked so bad they had to restart the song – and we have been mates ever since.
You may wonder why I’m telling you this? Probably just to set the scene that I am a massive fan with high expectations, so you know this is written from the viewpoint of someone who genuinely loves the band as opposed to someone doing a casual review.
I must admit to breaking routine with this album and having a couple of listens before sitting down to write this, but I can happily tell you The Cup Of Pestilence is fucken awesome!
The best Frenzal Rhomb album since Meet The Family even… but let’s run a critical ear over the album track by track to gauge why.
Lead single Where Drug Dealers Take Their Kids opens proceedings, with Whalley doing a solo vocal ditty and playing the guitar with his mouth before Lindsay quietly tells him to fuck off back to the microphone and the madness begins.
Frenzal Rhomb’s music is easily identifiable as theirs, so there’s nothing new here, but it’s the pace and intensity that make their own announcement that Frenzal are enjoying their 10th album and with a song title like this leading the charge it’s also evident that their sense of humour is primed and ready to go as well.
Gone To The Dogs fires up quickly and seems to be a tale of yet another bar going high price and fancy and basically out-pricing their regular clientele.
It is typical Frenzal musical observation conveyed in their own unique manner with fast riffing from Lindsay McDougall, which has to be to keep up with drummer Gordy Foreman who seems to hasten his dislike for his drum kit more with every outing.
As in, he bashes the fuck out of them.
The Wreckage swirls to life with Whalley’s vocals dominant which usually signifies he is trying to get some half-serious message across before The Doctor (McDougall) decides it’s getting too preachy and drowns him out with guitar.
It’s taken three songs but one of my barometers for a Frenzal album is their liberal use of the word cunt, and it rears its beautiful head several times here which bodes well for the future.
Dead Man’s Underpants is up next with a spoken word ditty at the start that holds greater significance when deciphered by Whalley in his recent interview with HEAVY.
This is a rollicking, almost joyous number that skips along at a hectic pace without overstaying its welcome.
I’m only four songs into a total of 19, so I think it’s time to re-evaluate my usual method of reviewing each individual track, or I could still be going when Frenzal release their next album!
Instead, I will paraphrase as I go, but hopefully it does the songs justice.
Lil Dead$hit is a fun number about a former neighbour’s drug-dealing children, while Laneway Dave is a melting pot of venom that rips harder than a pickpocket.
There’s nothing entirely new here, but why the fuck would you expect it?
What there is on offer is an obviously happy band getting back to their musical roots and still not giving a fuck.
Lindsay shows off a couple of times in this track, but who can blame him? The man is a great guitarist.
Instant Coffee outlines Whalley’s need for coffee in his ageing years and features some nice melodies, and I’m guessing this could creep out as a single at some stage.
Dog Tranquilliser sees another quickening of pace and makes no sense lyrically – another sign Frenzal are comfortable in their own skin with The Cup Of Pestilence.
I Think My Neighbour Is Planning To Kill Me starts with a wall of guitars before pulling back to allow Whalley to make a short point before his bandmates rally around him to protect their vulnerable singer.
He lets out his beloved growl momentarily giving another glimpse into the genesis of Frenzal Rhomb and death by neighbour has suddenly never felt so appealing.
Horse Meat is another song within a song that would take numerous listens to decipher – if you so felt the need. But this is Frenzal and nothing needs to make perfect sense as long as it’s fun.
Which this still is.
How To Make Gravox stutters in on the back of a badly played acoustic guitar that is soon consigned to the scrap heap as Lindsay’s guitar screeches and beckons Whalley into another tirade about nothing in particular.
Deathbed Darren sounds like an ode to someone who gets on your nerves on a daily basis but suddenly becomes tolerable as their last breath draws near, but again it is a load of fun, and you barely even notice the morbid nature of the lyrics.
Darren is probably a cunt anyway.
I don’t even know what Tontined is, but it’s the name of the next track and it chuggs along nicely at a steady pace. The soothing nature in which Whalley sings with the harmonious blessings of Lindsay suggests said Tontine is more of an ally than an enemy, so all is well.
Gordy introduces Fireworks in a nice touch and keeps things moving at a gentle but firm pace as Whalley once more drags out his angelic cleans that have always appeared in the least expected but most welcome places.
I can relate to the next track Hospitality And Violence having worked in a bar for 15 years and if all of my moments of conflict were resolved in this same manner my criminal record would be a lot cleaner than it is now…
Those People could be about anyone – even you – but is a catchy number that moves along at a nice pace until my favourite C word breaks through the serenity and the smile widens on my face.
Old Mate Neck Tattoo sounds like a song about an abusive person who presumably sports a neck tattoo, because let’s face it, neck tattoos and naughty people go hand in hand.
Whoever this guy is, I don’t think he has a place in our society and Frenzal tell him in no uncertain terms just where he can stick his next tattoo.
Finally I Can Get Arrested In This Town has me searching the recesses of my brain for memories with Frenzal where the police waved their magic wand but for the life of me I swear I am innocent on this occasion.
Thank fuck.
The album closes with second single Thought It Was Yoga But It Was Ketamine which is the perfect way to close out The Cup Of Pestilence with its eclectic timing and tempo changes that seem to sum up the last 18 songs in one neat bowless package.
And with that Frenzal once more fade from my speakers, leaving me with a warmer feeling in my loins than before I hit play.
Do I still think it’s the best album since Meet The Family?
Most definitely. Big call, I know, but you know what they say about opinions…
