YOWL - 'John The Collector'

Photo Credit: Luis Kramer

Another belter from London's favourite psychopaths.

YOWL fucking piss me off. Because the only band my head can compare them to is the Strokes but they don't sound anything like the Strokes. And then when I see all the other magazines throwing names like The Birthday Party, Wire and even IDLES around, it pisses me off even more. Because their sound doesn't seem that complex when you listen to them, but they occupy a space of their own amongst their indie rock/post punk contingent. But Gabriel Byrde really sounds like Matt Berninger. It's all very frustrating. Anyway; regardless of what the music sounds like, YOWL are masters of tapping into the darkest of human emotions- "Saturday Drag"is a perfect description of the working man's depression whilst songs like "My Headache Likes to Speak" dissects that even further. Brand new single "John the Collector" is about killing your friends. Kind of. But it's no less awesome.

John the Collector is a friend of the band who has only learnt "to talk about his demons" by talking to the heads of his friends that he hangs from his ceiling. Despite the tongue in cheek morbidity of the lyrical content, the song does focus on the male psyche and the difficulty of expressing emotions. It's not obvious like "Samaritans" was but its just as important. If you take the message seriously, this could be the worst case scenario of a man who doesn't know how to open up. Of course, we're just delving into singer Byrde's ridiculous imagination. It's difficult to analyse a lot of what he says, but fuck me, can he spin a phrase. "Collect records/collect dust/collect something" again is simple at first look, but it represents the progression of what a psychopath has to go through in four different words- summed up by "everybody needs material meaning". These are just little one liners, but he writes songs like stories. Sentances span verses and even run into different sections- it seems so methodical but the words fit so well. Musically, it's everything YOWL do well condensed into one song. It starts soft like "Teeth" and "Warm" do, but soon gives way to a wiry, instantly whistle-able riff (I mean, I can't whistle but you know) that hardly lets up for the next 2 and a half minutes. The band are the perfect foil for Byrde's maniacal muttering, never staying true to what you think should happen. Drum flourishes, jazzy bass fills and guitar chords and riffs that would make sense on the weirder Beatles songs are not what you expect from post-punk music these days. But YOWL aren't post-punk. They're just YOWL and it's fantastic. EP next year boys? I'll be getting withdrawal symptoms until its out.

Words by James Kitchen.