#clamm

Care is CLAMM’s second album, following 2021’s Beseech Me, an album of comparable violence and intensity and snare-shot agitation; you can get the gist of it from this live performance of “Liar.” The band formed around friends since grade school, Jack Summers and Miles Harding, and now includes the bass player and singer Masie Everett. Everett played on Beseech Me, but she didn’t do much singing there. One of the main differences between the first album and the second, then, comes her participation in the massed, shouted refrains. She augments the chorus in “Done It Myself,” “Monday” and “Bit Much,” making them a group effort, rather than an individual one, and consequently giving the songs a bit more communal, enveloping urgency.

The fire, though, comes from the pummeling interplay between Summers’ militant chants, his wild, flailing guitar and Harding’s primal, kit pounding cadences. Every sound is thrown like a punch, rocking you back with sheer bludgeoning impact. The sound is instantly familiar, though surprisingly hard to pin down with punk antecedents. The closest I can get is Ex-Cult with fewer moving guitar parts, Stiff Little Fingers without the propensity for tunefulness, or Perth’s Zerodent but a bit more metal. The band itself likes to invoke California garage punks like the Osees and Ty Segall, and I wasn’t hearing it until “Make Me,” whose mammoth guitar riff sounds like Fuzz.  

All 15 songs are shots to the gut, with highlights in “Monday”’s hopped up denunciation (“I don’t want drugs, I don’t want fame, I don’t want money, I don’t want love”), “Scheme”’s feedback screaming dissonance and “Buy”’ sublimely heavy riffs jacked up on amphetamines to warp speed. If you were to ask for anything, it might be a bit more variation. But then again, if you’re getting this much oomph out of basic ingredients, why add a lot of extras?