Jucifer L'Autrichienne

The minstrels who assault your jangled nerves are back. And this time, they’ve actually managed to intensify the chaotic frenzy we thought had reached its pinnacle with 2006’s If Thine Enemy Hunger. Packed with 21 tracks of oddball attacks that range from singer G. Amber Valentine’s creepy little girl voice over a droning guitar to beastly blasts of grindcore terror via G. Edgar Livengood’s relentless hammering, it’s unnerving to think that this two-piece can create an even more imposing album and sonic attack than bands with twice the number of conspirators. More impressive though is that while Jucifer have always managed to make their artistic requiems interesting and catchy, L’Autrichienne is clearly their most refined work without sacrificing any of the tenacity that has established them as something to watch, with appreciation and caution. Angular, harried and beguiling, L’Autrichienne may take the left hand path of inventive lunacy but the conviction with which it adheres to the road is compelling. (Relapse)