In most post-punk, there’s a separation between the raw emotions, and anger fuelling the music and the listener. Melbourne’s Bench Press are an exception to that rule, and their debut self-titled album is a perfect example – the sparsity and intricacies of post-punk throughout are backed by a whole lot of pent-up fury.
Opener Hey Man calls you to attention with toms, joined by a throbbing bass riff and howling guitar, as well as some very direct vocals – clocking in at less than two minutes. Burning Up slinks in before you’ve realised, effortlessly delicious.
Group Anxiety and Powerless are the pivot points in the middle of the album, perhaps two of the strongest tracks. The choruses are catchy and painfully relatable; laconic reflections of life and struggle. In all honesty, this album goes from strength to strength, climaxing in closing track Passions, featuring an immense slow jam that builds to angular riffs and a lot of tension. Bench Press are a band who’ve built a reputation on the live circuit, but what stands out in this production is how well their live attitude and ferocity has been captured.
Each time I listened to the album, I had to remind myself that this is their debut album. Ten tracks of near-perfect, very Melbourne post-punk. But hey, what’s perfection in punk anyway? They’re getting a well-deserved nine out of ten for this release – and that’s entirely selfish, so they’ve got room to grow to a ten for their next album. Only good things to come here.
