Every family has one: The refuser. The angry, articulate misanthrope. Mostly, they’re silent but when they do speak its with a churning, machine gun violence. If you don’t know who it is in your family, it’s probably you.
Angry music is great. It lifts you, screeching and screaming, it drains and revitalises. You just need the right person in charge. Well, Joe Casey is that person and Protomartyr is his transportation. An angry, baleful dirge providing the backdrop to his hoarse, poetic yelp. He starts, as you do, by humanising satan:
The Agent Intellect drags you, tumbling backwards through time. It belongs to a fraternity of post-punk, growling at the universe, all sharpened hooks and sniping baritone. Pontiac ’87 is the brutal, ugliness bubbling around us:
And then they turns inward, directing the ire at themselves, at the fragility of mortality, at self-awareness, at our too obvious limitations.
If you’re looking for happiness, then drop back a couple of blogs for The Social Experiment. If you want glorious, invigorating anger grab The Agent Intellect here.