While the North American side of the Atlantic is responsible for some of the greatest moments in the history of noise rock, if you take a quick look at what’s going on in France, you’ll notice that in between their embarking upon whatever quasi-racist French stereotype I just held myself back from typing, our Gallic cousins do said genre a bit differently than what we’re used to over here. And they do it to great and enjoyable affect.
Bands like Aussitot Mort, Sugartown Cabaret, Sofy Major, Carne and now Pord all offer their own sumthin’-sumthin’ to the noise rock cannon and each of them has a sense of identity that’s greater than being a bunch of French bands who are ripping off Hammerhead. In the case of Pord and Wild, the seven song album does start off on a distinguishing tack as a combination of fuzzy bass and bright, slashing guitars on “Staring into Space” combine to create a thrashy slinkiness. “I’m Swimming Home” is all jangly, mathy, angularity and “My Bloody Galantine” sounds like what doom/sludge metal sounds like when you subtract all the down-tuning, thick distortion and Ampeg and Orange amps.
As the album proceeds, their subconscious focus appears to wean away from doing those little things that make Pord Pord and they end up sounding more and more like Unsane. “What are Tuesdays For?” takes that familiar Lower East Side gritty vibe and chops it up like The Melvins or The Dillinger Escape Plan might, but by the time they get to closer “On the Couch,” if you can tell the different between vocalist Mike and Unsane’s Chris Spencer and the bass tones, you have better ears than I. This isn’t to say that Wild’s closing half is a poor showing; it just becomes increasingly obvious from whom they’re drawing influence from which actually may help in grounding some listeners taken aback at how distinct the album’s first half is.
7.5/10
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