Review Summary: Youth Code effectively combine oldschool EBM with a distinctive punk flair for the 21st century's finest industrial experience.
From a stylistic standpoint, it has always been difficult to pin down exactly what “industrial music” is supposed to sound like. This is probably because genre founders
Throbbing Gristle didn't intend for the genre to sound like anything in particular, and instead conceived of it as a type of experimental music that was simply supposed to sound as unconventional and challenging as possible. However, when most people hear “industrial” (not industrial metal), they think of a style of rhythmic, menacing electronic music pioneered in the 1980's by the likes of
Front 242,
Skinny Puppy, and
Einsturzende Neubauten. Or maybe they think of the various directions these sounds evolved in the 90's thanks to the likes of
Haujobb and
Front Line Assembly. Or maybe they're more familiar with 21st-century acts such
VNV Nation. Or maybe they've only ever listened to
Nine Inch Nails and
Ministry and don't know that there's anything to the genre beyond industrial metal. All of these artists (and many more) have taken industrial fans on a roller coaster ride of genre-bending musical evolution over the decades to the point where trying to assert that one sound versus another is “industrial” is virtually impossible today. All the while, genre purists in desperate need of goth cred insist that none of them are truly “industrial.”
It would be very hard to make that claim about Youth Code's stunning debut album, however, as the Los Angeles duo have concocted a glorious soundscape of cold, menacing electronics, furious beats, threatening sampled audio clips, and a political savagery that evokes the very best of classic 1980's industrial. However, the album is much stronger than a simple Front 242 imitation: there's a staggering level of anger spilling through the tense compositions, probably thanks to the band's post-hardcore roots (they opened for
AFI on their 2013 tour). Industrial has definitely been angry before, and it's definitely been subtle and menacing, but this album is an intriguing mixture of both, and it ends up sounding simultaneously nostalgic and fresh.
Rarely does the album come close to the amount of raw power found on its opening track, “Let the Sky Burn”. Starting with a series of looped and distorted audio samples over scrap metal beats and bizarre mechanized hisses, tension starts building fast as the words become increasing clear and assertive. At around 50 seconds in, synthesizers join the mounting energy with a quiet menace, continuing to build with the audio clips for another 30 seconds. Then it all suddenly explodes as the vocals come out of nowhere, carving giant swaths of violent energy through the soundscape like plasma cannons carving through legions of robots. Let the Sky Burn! SUICIDE! The song ends as another politically charged audio clip trails off: “How do you defend this policy of deliberate depreciation of our money?” It's so raw, so powerful, and so blunt, and yet so restrained and still melodic that you're still in shock when the first few notes of “First & Last” abruptly fill the silence.
The album's restraint is key to its success. Compared to the Nivek Ogre's demonic wailing and whispering on some of Skinny Puppy's older albums, Youth Code sound relatively tame. But there's so much energy bubbling just beneath the surface of the album that Sara Taylor's piercing vocals seem to carry enough power to inspire a revolution, punk-style. Even on “What Is the Answer”, one of the album's less frantic, more melodic songs, there's a layer of pure seething rage threatening to break through the surface at any moment, as it does when Ryan George adds desperate cries into the backing vocals. Never has a simple question sounded so biting.
The formula of restraint is effective, but there is little variation across the album's ten tracks. Some have stronger rhythms (“Wear the Wounds”, “Sick Skinned”) and others are more chaotic (“Rest in Piss”); some have a deeper, more complex composition (“Destroy Said She”) while others are more minimalist (“No Animal Escapes”), but ultimately all rely on roughly the same sound palate, and this is the only thing that stops the album from becoming an instant classic. The songs are all fairly short (“Let the Sky Burn” is barely the albums longest at 3:55) which helps the album to avoid sounding repetitive, but by the time track seven rolls around I'm very much ready for them to shake it up a bit more.
Ultimately, “Youth Code” is an extremely strong debut from a band that holds the potential to re-ignite industrial with a furious approach to menacing yet melodic electronics. These are some rhythms that I'll be dancing to for a while!
