One of the many exciting acts introduced through The Flenser, Sprain delivered an impressive work with their debut record, As Lost Through Collision. Introduced during the dark times between lockdowns in 2020, the album is a tour de force through noise rock and post-hardcore. With an off-kilter element and an allure for both the chaotic and depressing nature of no wave, Sprain seemed not only a promising but, already, a remarkable act. This feeling now becomes reality as the California band releases their sophomore work, The Lamb As Effigy.
First things first. This work is the very definition of an ambitious. Its duration is double that of As Lost Through Collision. But, this is not where Sprain stop. No, they have not only extended the time but also the depth of their compositions. And, not in a singular dimension but in multiples. The very introduction sees this awakening, as the surprising classical elements come into view with “Man Proposes, God Deposes.” It is something that they revisit throughout stages of this work, offering at times a grand manifestation, or a particularly somber tone, as with the ending of “Privilege of Being.” But again, this is not the only dimension. Suddenly Sprain will strip down their distorted instrumentation, return to a minimal state for delivering an acoustic, and dare I say folk-inspired, side with “The Commercial Nude.” This minimal approach is not new, but the overall demeanor makes it stand out even more. The bare space of “The Reclining Nude” sees the piano and cymbals solitarily fill the scenery, before the fuzzy guitar makes a return. The final, excruciating moments of “God, Or Whatever You Call It” see the distorted guitar uncannily morphing into a violin-like instrument, while the Alex Kent’s vocal delivery breaks down from all the pain and suffering.
There are still many components here that go back to the core noise rock elements. The backward progression of the opener screams with the Swans-ian heritage, as the spoken word is repeated ad nauseam on top of the punishing rhythm section. The dissonance at a high, is further augmented through no-wave methods, as horn sections come together with the distortion to complete this forceful rendition. At times it feels as if you are in a car crash, the world tumbling around you and you desperately try to hold on, which is the impression you get going through “We Think Ill of You.” The post-hardcore applications come hand in hand with this mindset, unleashing brutal breakdowns in the likes of “Reitarations,” fuelling this work with an abundance of anger and distress. And then the stretched-out songs, in the 24-minute long “Margin For Error” see Sprain tour through a collection of sounds and motifs. Everything from the organ introduction to the hardcore roots and the post-rock deconstructions has its place and purpose. For a record that stretches over the 90-minute mark, that is quite remarkable.
There is a definite tradition, a strange and dark corner in the experimental rock and hardcore scenes that attracts the likes of Sprain. But, what few are able to capture is the underlying emotion of it all. Sprain do not hold back on that front. This is a despairing affair, filled with a spectrum of emotions, ranging from anger and fear, but traveling all the way to melancholy and even submission. The sentiment that they are able to transmit is real, and it strikes a very familiar tone. This is the door leading to the place in your mind that you do your best every day not to visit. Well, Sprain have just kicked down the door for you. Enjoy!
