The Mark Of Cain has always been a band of contradiction and confrontations. When the band formed in Adelaide in the early ’80s, the local music scene was dominated by a mixture of post-Birdman and paisley underground ’60s rock; The Mark of Cain chose the darker route, taking its cues from the deliberately intense margins of post-punk. When other bands were celebrating community and the power of the common cause, The Mark Of Cain explored the role of the loner in society; when war was stupid, and people were stupid, The Mark Of Cain reminded us of the importance of military discipline to human endeavour.
It’s been a tough road for The Mark Of Cain in recent years. Guitarist and songwriter John Scott’s relationship fell apart, just as the band’s new album was beginning to take shape. Drummer John Stanier found time spent with his Australian band mates increasingly difficult in the space of his commitments with Battles and Tomahawk; bass player Kim Scott found other things to do, and it appeared Mark Of Cain might be limping to an ignominious end.
But it’s in the face of adversity that The Mark Of Cain is in its finest form. Songs Of The Third And Fifth, the long awaited new TMOC record, is The Mark of Cain in all its intense, powerful and unyielding glory. From the moment of Kim Scott’s pounding bass introduction to Barkhammer, to John Scott’s abrasive metallic guitar melodies, to Stanier’s tough-as-nails percussive attack, this is an album that commands attention. Scott explores the same territory he’s always found inspiration – betrayal, anger, resilience and salvation. Avenger is threatening, a man waging war against an innate desire to lapse into psychosis; Separatist is what passes for a pop song in The Mark of Cain repertoire – if Ian Curtis had sought treatment at the appropriate time, this is the music he’d be salivating over in the present time.
Milosevic continues the military theme common to much of the TMOC back catalogue; in The Mark of Cain’s vice-like grip, protestations of innocence are reduced to the stuff of flimsy hearsay. Eastern Decline is sparse, intense and angry – when Scott barks that he can feel the pain, you can sense every last blow to his crumbling psychological make-up. And then when you pick yourself up, there’s the rallying cry of Grey 11, replete with freakishly excellent opening guitar lick. On 1000 Yards you’re bearing witness to TMOC walking into the metaphorical desert, armed, and only dangerous if pushed; yet Scott is accommodating, looking for meaning and answers, while his trusty rhythm section keeps all antagonists at bay. And then there’s The Argument, shards of feedback and Kim Scott’s rumbling bass. Like the protagonist in a heated emotional dialectic, it’s only one step away from absolute implosion, and John Scott is doing his best to keep it all together.
The Mark Of Cain is more than a band: it’s a philosophical idea, a sociological concept, a confronting paradox and a brutal post-punk metal beast. And by fuck, it’s good to have The Mark of Cain back.
BY PATRICK EMERY
Best Track: Argument
If You Like These, You’ll Like This: Herman Hesse and Albert Camus
In A Word: Insane
