If there was any question about Iceage's longevity, their third album, Plowing Into the Field of Love, will answer it loud and clear. After releasing their debut album, New Brigade, when they were teens, the Copenhagen post-punks made an impressive, reinforcing statement with last year's You're Nothing. But it's album number three that demonstrates their intensity as a band determined to prosper.
Upon its release, first single "The Lord's Favorite" really set a precedent that we shouldn't be assuming anything about Iceage. The song's rockabilly psychosis signalled a page was taken straight out of the Gun Club's playbook. But that's only one piece of the puzzle.
If there is one band they play hero worship to most though, it's the undulating, feverish rock of the Bad Seeds. Whether it's singer Elias Bender Rønnenfelt breathlessly screaming his best Nick Cave impression throughout the crashing "On My Fingers," or gnashing his teeth up against the piano and string-led beauty of "Against The Moon," this band has grown wise beyond their years in the span of 18 months.
If all of this sounds like too much of a radical transition, well, that just plays into the band's sadistic mission to leave fans behind. However, there are still traces of You're Nothing's nihilistic punk left in them. "How Many" and "Cimmerian Shade" might be spacious and twice the length of past songs, but they still instil that fierce adrenaline rush Iceage earned their reputation with (read: you can mosh to these).
Plowing Into the Field of Love is certain to piss off some fans, but it's not like they've suddenly lost the ability or edge; quite the contrary. If you ask me, this is the most punk thing Iceage could've done at this point — and arguably the best thing they've done, period.
(Matador Records)Upon its release, first single "The Lord's Favorite" really set a precedent that we shouldn't be assuming anything about Iceage. The song's rockabilly psychosis signalled a page was taken straight out of the Gun Club's playbook. But that's only one piece of the puzzle.
If there is one band they play hero worship to most though, it's the undulating, feverish rock of the Bad Seeds. Whether it's singer Elias Bender Rønnenfelt breathlessly screaming his best Nick Cave impression throughout the crashing "On My Fingers," or gnashing his teeth up against the piano and string-led beauty of "Against The Moon," this band has grown wise beyond their years in the span of 18 months.
If all of this sounds like too much of a radical transition, well, that just plays into the band's sadistic mission to leave fans behind. However, there are still traces of You're Nothing's nihilistic punk left in them. "How Many" and "Cimmerian Shade" might be spacious and twice the length of past songs, but they still instil that fierce adrenaline rush Iceage earned their reputation with (read: you can mosh to these).
Plowing Into the Field of Love is certain to piss off some fans, but it's not like they've suddenly lost the ability or edge; quite the contrary. If you ask me, this is the most punk thing Iceage could've done at this point — and arguably the best thing they've done, period.
