New full length by filthy Montreal sludge-flingers Les Guenilles (“The Rags” for you anglos and Americans), Zéro pis une barre , out now on local heavy (but eccentric) label L‘œil du tigre. This third record by these punks charges right at you with the contemptful riffs of “La scène locale” which offers a middle finger to.. mostly everyone, in an epic scene dis. That sets the tone, one of dark bile and vitriol, the post metal dirge of Neurosis smashing heads violently with thrash-era blast beats.
Plenty of tricks up their nasty sleeves, ragers like “Poule pas d’tête” feature expert blasts by drummer Jonathan Bigras while throwing oddly dissonant little keyboard runs in the mix. D.R.I. style chug of “Balle de golf” gives way to more metallic screaming complexity that reminds me of seminal 90s Quebec thrash-core band B.A.R.F.. Singer and guitarist David Guilbault screams and shreds from peaks of dejection and rage on tracks like “Sel de Bain” and “Trou de cul” while throughout the album the bottom is held down expertly by the huge bass of Simon Gauthier. Les Guenilles are trying to be anything but appealing or ingratiating or part of any scene but their own dirty damned selves. They sit well situated with an always white hot and dynamic metal scene in town that includes trailblazers like The Great Sabatini and Le Kraken but occupy a gutter perspective, a gritty realism that departs from the more viking-esque leanings of their contemporaries. The tone they set is harsh, knife edged and leaves little room for fucking around. In that, this album is more real than most and cleaves to the more working class and borderline nihilist aspects of heavy music, confronting the unsteady world with a sneer and a swagger.
