Show Me The Body - Body War

Searing its way through flesh like musical scarification, Show Me The Body’s debut album is as hot-headed as they come. Exploding into life with ‘Body War’’s mangled riffing, it’s a car-crash in the most beautiful sense – all twisted metal and lungs glistening black with smoke. That title track perfectly captures the energy of these New York newcomers – harsh noise and bawled vocals are their MO, but there’s a quiet intelligence and methodical turn to every movement. Politically switched-on without painting their colours in overly-broad brush strokes, ‘Body War’ captures their home city’s latent frustrations with all the nuance they deserve.

‘Honesty Hour’, meanwhile, digs closer to home. Frontman Julian Cashwan Pratt might ply his trade in tearing himself asunder, drawing blood on stage and hurling himself around like a ragdoll, but ‘Body War’’s midpoint finds him looking inward, sounding fit to break as he longs for something just out of reach.

Anxious but exuding confidence, intelligent but forever giving over to impulse, ‘Body War’ is a first work up there with the best of them. Show Me The Body are an incomparable prospect, shunning the limelight and churning up dirt in the shadows. Where they’ll go next is anyone’s guess, but their first moves are attention grabbing in the extreme.