ALBUM REVIEW: Hysterical Strength – Deadletter

Don’t be disappointed that an album titled Hysterical Strength is a slow burn before the punchline hits. Dwellers of the misunderstood, grey, and desolate Yorkshire, DEADLETTER are making the wrongs feels less wrong and tearing through the nightmarishly ugly until they find the beauty on their debut album — by no means do they put the world to rights with their take on art-punk, but they do expose the silver linings of clouds until garish sun light adds some colour to the grey. 

Historically, DEADLETTER have managed to nail the socially conscious archetype of band that exists between post-punk that isn’t bothered with being pretentious and beaming ska — both of which lend themselves to the art-punk persona, perhaps even playing the part of parents. On tracks like Mother and Auntie Christ they find far more depth in the melancholy that oozes from them, egged on by bellowing saxophone work by Poppy Richler. 

That doesn’t erase the heart pumping excitement that DEADLETTER are all too familiar with providing, often having a tongue in cheek attitude without undermining their work; opener Credit To Treason is like blood to a shark and is sure to draw in the masses with an instant clattering cacophony of guitar and saxophone. Or, the frenetic jitters of It Flies that boil over and reach a celebration with slippery rhythms that just can’t be held down. Maybe this is what MADNESS meant when they sang of a house of fun, an ever changing sonic playground with a big ol’ saxophone taking the lead.

It goes without saying that DEADLETTER are about to have their poster child moment, whether short lived or long reigning, of UK post-punk. They will have people talking about them for the next couple of years, but will they be the last of the wordy punk dominoes to fall down? If the trend of post-punk fans in the UK tells us anything it’s that they get bored about as easily as Andy in Toy Story 2. Hysterical Strength is nothing short of a bottomless pit of fun, whether you find that a dream or nightmare is up to you, is it enough to submit you into a constant listen of it?

If there’s anything that will convince you it’s Deus Ex Machina, a deliciously on the nose piece of commentary on the sheer shower of despondency that the UK is in even after a general election. If not for the seductive brass, then for the fact that it’s the spark that set the record alight into a glorious inferno exceeding what this elk of post-punk is used for. Zac Lawrence’s vocal performance reaches its peak at shattering levels of acceleration, leaving tyre marks that let the taste of Hysterical Strength linger. 

Maybe DEADLETTER have no use for a poster child moment, it sets too many expectations for a band that thrive on the prospect of subverting their own status quo. Maybe they won’t hit that pretentious point. Art-punk, rock, post-ska and pop; whatever you want to label it, Hysterical Strength is one of a kind, and the saxophone is alright as well.

Rating: 9/10

Hysterical Strength is out now via SO Recordings.

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