Snakeface – Oberon [review]
I should preface this right now by saying that the record in question isn’t for the faint of heart. If you’re looking for sweet sounds, close this page and come back later in the week. Consider this a temporary respite. It’s simply that Oberon will likely find itself in my top five Australian releases of the year so I figured I’d better write something on it so that when that list appears there isn’t gross public outcry. “What!? Why haven’t didn’t you mention it then, tossbag!?”. The band is made up dudes from Parades, I.I, Jonathan Boulet, Light Giant and Sleepyhands. Plot that on a genre graph why don’t you.
Look, let’s get this out in the opening early: I’m smitten with this record. I’ve been listening to it constantly and unabridged for the past two weeks, declaring it the bees balls and mostly sweating on anyone who’ll listen. Amongst this I’ve wondered how folks that have never been purveyors of heavier music have picked up on this record so excitedly but I think the answer is simple enough; Oberon transcends traditional genrefication. Snakeface refuse to attend to your heavy music heart using the tried and tested formula. Here’s a list of features that are absent on Oberon:
| • Breakdowns | • Gutteral vocals |
| • Drops | • Mosh |
| • I don’t know how to make it a noun, but the nominal form of ‘unrelenting’. This record relents. | • Constant, directionless noise |
For better or for worse, Oberon has somehow managed to position itself outside the spectrum of heavy music, at least in my eyes. It could be the absence of the earlier listed features or it could be some other unidentifiable anomale. There are moments where I know I should say “this smells like Converge” but I don’t, and I don’t know why. So you can keep your Northlanes, your Dream On Dreamers and your freshly cut cookies, I’ll have Oberon thanks.
![](https://fbcdn-sphotos-b-a.akamaihd.net/hphotos-ak-xfa1/t1.0-9/380316_395753663789444_764993412_n.jpg")
The record opens with the Spaghetti Western brooder ‘Listen Up’. What I actually thought was electric guitar I’ve since discovered to be vocals auto-tuned so as to be unrecognizable and the effect is disquieting to say the least, and indeed, the most. It’s disconcerting and a worthy introduction before the meat arrives in track 2 ‘Devil’s Leap’, which is the first the first of the the record’s decelerations of grit. ‘Devil’s Leap’ is a lurching drunk, wandering the streets shouting obscenities while his late life, years-of-green induced neuroses lend themselves to voices in his dome.
‘Cash Grab’ is a more straight down the line nadcrusher laced with societal rage. “When was the last time you looked at your surroundings?”. Probably not recently enough. The track swells and swells with a third voice making its entrance before the vocal swarm takes over then the wave once again crashes back into uncertain twings and twangs punctuated by silence as much as noise. The song crushes out before it can build into the mosh part that kids have saved their best two-step for and I think that’s why I’m appreciating this record so damn much. There’s no pavlovian moments where Snakeface buy into the prevailing way of things. Somehow modern hardcore has convinced itself that the only way to demonstrate anger, sadness, rage or guilt is with more noise. Not so Snakeface. The tracks ‘Oberon’ and ‘Oberon ii’ are interludes between the interludes, both backed by a single resounding, organ tone. Ergo, the album rings out with of the run-down, the poor and the underfoot. Let’s also take a moment here to welcome ‘ergo’ to the Sound Doctrine word family. A great debut appearance.
A good portion of the record is centered on throbbing riffery, notably tracks like ‘Scum’ and ‘Occupy’ though this isn’t to be confused with “crushing guitars” which are thankful absent. ‘Occupy’ is a brash call to action prefaced by the slamming of a rusted door, that places the entirety of the song in abandonded country yard, probably in the deep of night, and if the house’s occupants are anything like the band members they’re touching themselves inappropriately. Distortion swells until it swallows.
I think music pundit Joe Hardy put it best when he said that this record contains “a tangible sense of Australian identity that feels neither contrived or forced, nor cringeworthy”. At no point during the 29 minutes that is Oberon did I feel like Snakeface were trying to demonstrate a sense of Australianism yet the record is unmistakeably Australian.
Oberon: $10/$10
Head to the Snakeface bandcamp to get a hold of the digital release or pre-order the vinyl/documentary combination which will ship in a little over a week.
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[...] big man’s dirty hands’, ‘the valley of angry smirks’, or more simply Snakeface. The band’s individual nodes were inevitably going to pursue their own creative exploits and [...]