Idylls’ third album is as freeform as punk gets, and with an untamed hatred throbbing at its core, The Barn is not a cosy place to rest your head for the night. Sounding like they’re actively trying to hurt you, Billie Stimple’s pained vocals are akin to Frank Carter at his most biting, while the underlying militaristic marching of On My Chopping has an air of Killing Joke about it. All this is buried deep in the layers of twisted noise created by the Brisbane maniacs, curating a feeling of desperation and violence, struggling to survive in a nightmare of their own creation. The distant sounds of a saxophone being abused only adds to the nonsensical and hellacioussoundscape, none more so than on the exploration into musical depravity that is the title track. There is no melody here. There are no friends, either.
Idylls - The Barn album review
Aussie punk antagonists do more than blow the bloody doors off
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