There’s no denying it: White Lung kick ass. All buzzsaw guitars, insistent snare and howled vocals, the Vancouver group has, in just a few short years, successfully fused the poppy and dissonant ends of the post-hardcore spectrum, equal parts Drive Like Jehu and Pretty Girls Make Graves. The average song speeds right by you, spitting obscenities with the siren on full-blast, daring you to try and catch up. White Lung’s new album, Sorry, is full to bursting with moments like those described above. Take “Bag”: in under two minutes, a skittering post-punk guitar scratch gives way to an eminently catchy chorus, vocalist Mish Way’s double-tracked vocals telling the listener “I want to warn you,” but before she can, a quick burst of dissonance closes the song out. It’s really exciting stuff.
These songs feel like they’re bleeding through a bathroom wall, live and ferocious. Fittingly, the band’s drummer, Anne-Marie Vassilou told me that, in order for their music to be “loud, aggressive and good,” the group had to tour frequently. Touring actually seems to be an end in and of itself, as if their songs are merely an advertisement for future shows. “We never considered ourselves to be a ‘real’ band until we started touring,” she says. These are definitely songs that need to be heard in person, screaming in the same room as the band until everyone involved is so hoarse they all might as well have genuine white lung. In keeping with their intense touring schedule, the band is probably coming to your town sooner than later; make sure you don’t miss out.
By Rob Rubsam
Top Photo by Dena Flows
Bottom Photo By John Carlow