Album Review: A Place to Bury Strangers - 'Synthesizer'

The seventh album of New York band A Place to Bury Strangers – Synthesizer, comes in at just under forty-five minutes. It’s a shock to the senses – a blazing glory of an eclectic taste of grimy, club venue aesthetic – lead single Disgust letting audiences know what they’re in for from the word go. Heralding shortly after 2022’s See Through You with a new lineup fronted by Oliver Ackerman, the band reformed with John and Sandra Fedowitz. “It felt like a new thing,” Ackerman says – and it does – a reinvention, full of honest noise rock that hits like a core. 

Synthesizer feels incredibly raw – its music video for You Got Me was filmed by Browzan, recalling a horror movie set in Berlin, and that tells you what you’re in for from the word go – I had the chance to see the band live in Shoreditch last month as part of their three night London residency, and they more than delivered with their set. Ackerman pulls multiple duties across the band showing his range – vocals, guitar, bass and drums, and has done since 2003, whereas now Sandra Fedowitz steps in for drumming duties and John Fedowitz for the bass. It’s a brilliant three piece of talent – and they’ve found their sense of fun that is carried across to Synthesizer in spades. It’s an album that was made to be played loud and seen live; and as one of the loudest bands that I’ve seen all year (they have been regarded as New York’s loudest band in past incarnations) – earplugs are a requirement for their live shows – like the record they’ll leave your head spinning all over. 

The album is chaotic, spiralling, all over the place but in the best kinds of way, psychedelic shoegaze that feels honed in; experienced and well accomplished. Ackerman’s brand of DIY-content is refreshing in an age of AI that he quotes himself – encouraging a degree of “collaboration and community” at every turn. Synthesizer could not be a record from one person, or a machine – alone. Disgust starts strong – chaotic, searing energy – easy to see why it was the lead single – harsh, progressive and eclectic – they’ve been around since 2002 but flying well under the radar perhaps undeservingly so – Synthesizer feels at once chaotic but also one of their most controlled albums yet – even to the point of their vinyl copy, which comes with a circuit board. It’s the third project of the band’s current iteration but it feels like they’ve been together for a millennia, so well accomplished at every turn. 

It's an album for the gearheads this one – no different from what’s come in the past. Beneath the dirt and the noise it’s a powerfully raw album – Fear of Transformation is my favourite off the album, the acidity punctuating to the core, the sparse lyrics leaving a mark. It’s an album as a collective whole that worries about the future: of artificial intelligence in music, of the loss of a creative freedom and control. There’s plenty of reason to worry based on current trends – and Synthesizer feels like a rallying cry in the right direction. It’s hard not to admire how good Sandra Fedowitz is on the drums here across Fear of Transformation – the three piece making the most of their assembled talent. Join the Crowd meanwhile feels like a fusion of Primal Scream and The Cure; insistently bleak which is carried across the whole album. There are accessible tracks throughout the album but this – in the best way possible; is one for the fans. 

These songs are long too but they never overstay their welcome. Comfort Never Comes – the album’s closer, comes in at almost eight minutes. It feels half that. The whole album’s influences are varied – whether you look at Have You Ever Been in Love or Too Much. It all draws from inspiration as varied as the greats of rock; there’s a touch of Joy Division in this record too – matching the same unrelenting quest and hope for despair of Ian Curtis’ iconic best. Not bad comparisons – yet A Place to Bury Strangers in their latest form find their own voice that’s worth taking a trip down memory lane for.

Words by Miles Milton-Jefferies