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There’s something heavy rumbling in from the valleys of Cardiff. Intensive Square have given birth to the beast that is their debut studio album Anything That Moves, and it hits harder than a freight train made of sledge hammers. The five piece, consisting of vocalist Chris Haughey, guitarist/saxophonist Matthew Barnes, guitarist Joe Harvatt (who also plays bass in H A R K), bassist Tom Shortt and drummer Rich Lewis (Conan), have crafted something of such maddening brutality that we decided to give it the full Track by Track analysis. Grab a drink, steady your nerves, ‘cos here goes nothing!
1. ‘The Long Man’ – Absolutely battering drums fade in, the dexterous, tom heavy lines awakening something primal. Some gritty, gnarly bass tones and feedback drop in and start hammering out some jagged, stop/start riffing. It’s constantly moving but tied together by deep, underpinning grooves. A palm mute heavy, chugging section gives way to a stabbing guitar line and a messy, frantic guitar solo. Machine-gun triplets and absolutely rabid, throat shredding vocals are joined by a squealing sax piece that howls like a wounded beast.
2. ‘Ends’ – an immediate squall of dizzying riffage, muscular riffs and vocals used as a rhythmic instrument as much as anything else. This is the aural equivalent of a 90’s modem becoming self aware and tearing itself apart out of self hatred. Relentless, apocalyptic drums. Drops into just drums, bass and vocals, then into some quality atonal guitar vibes. Nasty.
3. ‘Me vs the Cables’ – big, ‘djenty’, manic groove, constantly moving drums, into big held chords, splashy cymbals and roaring, ranting vocals. Then a chugging, brooding section broken up by syncopated, mathy touches. Galloping riffs and a Meshuggah like melody that coils all over itself. Finishes up strong with a triplet-driven, locked in section with truly psychotic streaming before an abrupt end.
4. ‘Rhino Fight’ – does exactly what it says on the tin; a big, stomping, stampeding rhythm with shades of Pantera. Makes you want to punch zoo animals right in the dick. Slows down and deconstructsW into a jagged, brooding riff, wretching vocals and a relentless rhythmic assault. Humorous lyrics a little like GURT, “Those dicks have already heard about me/I fuck toads in the shallows/All my kids are reptiles”. A jazzy break with plenty of instrumental fills, the squealing, tortured sax returns and gives way to a truly commanding groove. A rare beast indeed.
5. ‘Gastric Emptying’ – arguably one of the best riffs on the record, and that’s fucking saying something. Massive tone, like a wall of roiling noise. Cascading drums and restless rhythms, an unstoppable barrage of vocal vitriol. Totally lock in for a machine-gun like, palm mute heavy section under an unsettling, mutated guitar break. Probably some of the most brutal lyrics you’ll hear all year. Chugs itself into an early grave.
6. ‘Vegetarians’ – no, wait, THIS is the ‘riff of the album’. Lots of canny use of space, will force you to move like a cattle prod to the rectum. Pummeling rhythms and ripping guitars. Serious snare abuse. Running, slick riffs toy with tempo. Dizzying, on the edge of madness, leaves you reeling. “Perhaps you’d rather die/you stupid cunt/Let’s eat/I’ll eat anything that moves”. Return of the sax, droning, almost alien sounds. Slowly winds down, gets fucking heavier and bleaker.
7. ‘Trials Of The Uberman’ – Grabs you by the throat right away. Massive tremolo riffing and truly furious drums, into atonal break, back into fill-intensive drums, which gallop us into a truly huge, malevolently crawling section that expands outwards. More deliberate, but no less dark. Sax still squealing out it’s own prolonged death rattle. Whips back into a frenzy, then into a flesh-ripping gallop. If Rich Lewis isn’t part robot we don’t know who is. Vocal refrain of “Destroy” is total, pit-fodder bliss.
8. ‘King’ – slide focused intro riff, drags along, awakens the screams. “I hope the sky solidifies and crushes you all” is a fucking awesome, fucking hateful image. Into droning guitars, it’s arguably more stable and structured than previous. Sick layered roaring. More deliberate, it stalks along with murderous purpose. Descending, tom heavy drums pummeling you down, light and hope sucked out in a vacuum. Big, jagged riffs, manic section over big ringing snare hits. Rapidly unfurling ,descending noodling. You are powerless to resist headbanging. Huge, dominant scream of “I am King”, into filthy, bass heavy chug. Raid snare rolls, into a fucking earth-flatteningly instense section, like being throw into a wood chipper by a tornado made of riff. Ends with drums grooving out by themselves, making the album cyclical. You can never escape. It will never end.
As you pick yourself up and spit out the shards of whatever teeth it’s knocked out of you, scrape the mud from your eyes and finally draw a ragged breath, it becomes abundantly clear that Intensive Square have spat out a raw, visceral and remorseless record that is spiteful, ugly, savage, and completely fucking brilliant. Next time tells you not to be ‘square’, punch ’em in throat.
