Snapped Ankles

(This article’s English version was produced with AI-assisted translation)

We need to shake ourselves awake to stay alive. We need to take to the streets to show that we’re here. We need to experience moments of euphoria to escape the grip of social media negativity. And above all, we need music that channels that euphoria and transforms it into subversive energy against an established order based solely on consumerism. The music of Snapped Ankles grabs hold of you and doesn’t let go until you’re on your feet, arms raised to the sky: “I’m alive!”

Hailing from East London, since 2017 they’ve approached music as provocation and expressive fury. From the outset, they’ve delivered incendiary live shows (always performing masked) and released music rooted in rhythm, abrasive noise, and politically charged spoken-word pieces critical of our capitalist perversions. They’ve been somewhat misleadingly linked to the recent post-punk revival, borrowing some sonic elements—especially the disorienting industrial noise that unsettles the listener. But their essence is a physical big beat that draws from the UK’s 1990s scene: broken rhythms, robotic spoken word, danceable atmospheres. It’s electronic music for art-rock performance, a mix of ’80s-’90s styles that feels irresistible in an age of bloated, saccharine, cookie-cutter hyperproductions.

From their very first EP on The Leaf Label (The Best Light Is The Last Light), they made it clear: screaming synths, distorted instruments, and Teutonic rhythms were their way of acting. This approach, carried across four underappreciated albums, finds further affirmation in their latest, Hard Times Furious Dancing—a title inspired by a line from poet Alice Walker. Hard times like these demand that we activate both mind and body, and dancing becomes a metaphor for the frantic action our era demands. The flow of tracks embodies this spirit fully, and the word “frenzy” suits what you hear.

Mechanical pulses kick off “Pay The Rent,” while a menacing synthetic bassline sets the ground for wild synthesizer incursions—a track that recalls the Dig Your Own Hole-era Chemical Brothers, just to give you an idea of their musical territory. The lyrics are an indictment of the resource waste in our decaying society:
“Turn down the gas and try to ration,
Do the maths and cut back fashion,
There’s no cheaper funeral than direct cremation.”

“Raoul” marches with a Teutonic beat, the voice distant and metallic, synths layered into a glittering, acidic bed, while the lyrics call out our inhuman indifference:
“Everybody looked the other way, everybody looked the other way.”

The rollercoaster continues with the most threatening track: “Dancing in Transit” is a mad dash between synthesizers and knobs competing to produce the most industrial sound. With runaway sequencers and fractured rhythms, it’s impossible to stay still—making you wish the track never ends. Just when you think the band has reached its peak, along comes the steel-clad “Smart World,” evoking industrial pioneers like Cabaret Voltaire with its urgent ’80s-inspired beats, confronting us with the numbing effects of technology—the true danger to humanity:
“Everyone I meet is getting lazier in the head almost daily.”

Hard Times Furious Dancing is a necessary album—fresh and challenging at the same time. It deserves attention because it makes you think, it gives you energy, and—if you feel like it—it’ll have you dancing furiously.

31/05/2025