Made Out of Babies

Neurot’s latest signing may surprise some because of the more conventional rock-isms, but New York City’s Made Out of Babies are in no way lightweights. Led by the scorching pipes of front-woman Julie Christmas, the quartet carve out a violent dissonance from a ferocious intensity that tends to build from a silent nothing into terse eruptions of noise. Trophy, their debut album, is a sadistic concoction of abrasive sludge metal, callous punk fervour and art-rock idealisms. The cataclysmic riffage wielded by Brendan Tobin and Cooper brings a heavy doom feel to the barrage of tempo shifts and moody onslaughts. Christmas’ scream is so raw and vicious that when she states her "tongue’s on fire” in "Loosey Goosey,” you believe every torturous word she says. With the temperament of ex-Babes in Toyland mouthpiece Kat Bjelland and a distinct poignancy akin to Yeah Yeah Yeahs’ Karen O, she’s an extraordinary singer that can leave you shaking in your boots. It’s not too difficult to pick out their heroes as the Jesus Lizard’s raw power is all over "Wounded Rhino” and "Gut Shoveler” reeks of Unsane’s squalid caterwaul. Blurring the boundaries of genre-specific music, Made Out of Babies have mastered the art of making heavy tuneage that can attract all sorts of audiences.