Waiting can be a bitch. Like the next Star Wars or sublime dish Taco Bell will cook up, the interval between The Banner‘s last release (2008’s Frailty) and this jet black gem has been a nail biter. Unlike Star Wars (but like Taco Bell), you know that this band’s sound is never in the wrong hands. So here we have The Banner’s first release in over five years, and though its length is brief, this could be equated to their potential Episode VII.
As a band that has continually redefined itself with each release, no matter how small, The Banner refreshes itself with unprecedented speed, skull-crushing fury and Type O Negative. These four tracks have been released sporadically since the beginning of 2012 in rough, unmixed versions. It would be a sin to decry these finalized versions, in fact this EP does little in the disappointment department.
“Wolvesblood” opens with a tongue-in-cheek sound clip from Pulp Fiction that is pleasantly self-referential for these Jersey devils. This self-loathing anthem is as fine a one as they’ve ever produced, tearing the listener down layer by layer until only a shuddering mass remains. The wrath is palpable enough to slash your ears to bits. The words throughout are cutting, a poem that rides on storm winds. “Wolvesblood” flows like blood from a freshly mauled throat into “Lilith,” a spine-twisting blur that demands a sacrificial circle pit. Let us pray to the heathen gods to give these dudes the funding and financial backing to tour, these songs need a live setting. None more so than the apocalyptic, bleak but triumphant “Negative Zone.”
“Negative Zone” is not only the best song out of this bunch, but one of The Banner’s finest pieces ever exhumed into being. As much a lamentation as can be expected, this track plays like a sort of doomed yet penultimate ballad. As the Pete Steele-inspired vocals croon over chest cavity-rattling reverb, the final repeated lyric of “I am God here” strikes an existentially territorial chord that will send your spine a-shivering.
The fourth track acts as an airy epilogue to the The Banner’s return to form, appropriately a cover of Zola Jesus’s tender “Night.” As far as covers go, this track wins the blue ribbon by capturing the graceful warmth of her original while flavoring it with enough lupine sensibility for it to close out Born to Ruin I in appropriate style.
As the first of a four-part demo series, The Banner clearly means to return not with a bang but with a howl. Born to Ruin I: The Way is Shut is available on a limited cassette run for a thrifty five bucks over at Melotov Records. Have at it and enjoy.
New Comments