UNSANE - Visqueen

Forget about the cover art (we're used to it by now, right?) and let's ask ourselves: what's the point of an Unsane record today? Or rather, who cares about one of their albums (an album that adds nothing to their career) besides the most hardcore fans? I resurface from the usual furious sonic wreckage and, with my eardrums still on fire, realize that the steamroller has passed over me, but it doesn't hurt like it used to.

“Visqueen”, their first record for Mike Patton's Ipecac, is a work with which the New York band continues to spread its hatred, its ferocity against a senseless world saturated with violence. Blood is everywhere, even inside the jewel case – but I get the impression they're doing everything they can to hide a notable dip in inspiration. Actually, no: that's exactly what it is!

Mid-tempo opener, distorted bass, possessed vocals, solemn pace, screeching guitar (“Against The Grain”): nothing new under the sun, and the doubts start to fade. The same old unshakeable troublemakers, with their dense, oppressive sound (“Last Man Standing”), grappling with an epic of rebellion as predictable as it is gripping, despite everything, despite the years relentlessly passing (“This Stops At The River”). No surprises, then. But no notable missteps either. Everything runs smooth, well-oiled, perfectly at ease. Even when the scenery seems about to turn irreparably murky and desperate (“Only Pain” – though a bit of healthy optimism wouldn't hurt!).

In short, pretty much everything we already know about Unsane: furious charges (“No One”), steel-armored behemoths (“Shooting Clay”), lethargic steamrollers (“Line On The Wall”), raging tornadoes (“Disdain”), and grim, circular mechanical rituals, like post-apocalyptic ceremonies (“East Broadway”).

Better to go back and dig up their great classics.

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30/04/2026