Refused are, for want of a better term, cock teases. They released one of the most vital and influential hardcore albums of all time (The Shape Of Punk To Come) way back in 1998, and broke up months later. They then reformed for some stellar live shows in 2012. Then they disbanded. And now they’ve reformed again, and produced their first studio album in seventeen years – Freedom.
Obviously, there’s a weight of expectation hanging over the release like a drunk uncle who orbits the buffet at a distant relations’ wedding. A lot of questions have been asked of the Swedish troupes latest effort – will it be as important? Will they have lost some of their mojo over that length of time? Will they sound more grown up? Will it be good?
To answer that last question – it’s fine. Think of the album as the aforementioned uncle would consider a lukewarm, slightly stale egg salad sandwich at the back of the buffet. Sure, bits of it might be enjoyable (it might even have cress in it), but after waiting in line to get here, there are better things on offer on the other surrounding plates (sausage rolls!)
Opener ‘Elektra’ is a welcome reminder of what Refused do so well. They build tension with a noodling riff and throaty, rumbling bass before the energy breaks like a huge wave. It’s rampant, manic, Dennis Lyxens caustic vocals assure us that “nothing has changed”. Sure, it isn’t as raw as their previous works, but it’s slicker, a little more polished and focused. You begin to believe that it’s business a usual.
‘Old Friends / New War’ dispels that belief with a mix of truly weird, electronically altered deep vocals layered over breathing and spouting off some kind of odd beat-poetry sub-rap. There’s some electronic stuff going on and some acoustic guitar strumming, with lots of layering. Skipping ahead brings you to ‘Francafrique’, complete with a batch of children chanting the lyrics, and a pop-ish chorus among its aimless wanderings. ‘Thought Is Blood’ starts in a way similar to a lot of 90’s electro songs, and tries to do too much, resulting in awkward transitions. ‘War On The Palaces’ is really odd, a bluesy guitar line, old school hard rock sensibilities, and a very radio friendly indie swagger.
Many have rumbled on about the band’s dalliances with producer Shellback, but the two songs he has a hand in (‘Elektra’ and ‘366’) are arguably two of the more enjoyable ones on the album, the latter a well constructed lifter with touches of prog in the guitar. Overall, the album has an excellent production job, the instrumentation recorded very well, nice tones all round. Perhaps this rubs off some of their rawness, but Refused are past all that now.
For those wanting a repeat, or even a passing relation, to 1998’s hardcore masterpiece, this ain’t that. A band who have always taken risks and pushed themselves, Refused have created their music, their way. Fans will appreciate that, but maybe not so much Freedom as the release they had waited almost two decades for. If this is the shape of punk to come that 1998’s Refused had been speaking of, perhaps folks would have jumped ship a little while ago.
