Mother Vulture – Cartoon Violence
Mother Vulture – Cartoon Violence
Record Label – Self-Released
Release Date – 15/01/26
Review by Jon Deaux
6.5/10
One band that has produced an album entitled “Cartoon Violence” is Mother Vulture. That’s either the most fantastic promotional tactic or a liability exclusion clause, depending on their insurance premiums. More likely the former, since this thing comes at you with the ferocity of a Tasmanian devil on a mug of tea.
Georgie Valentine, seems to have issues with his vocal chords, because he’s going at them with the same kind of slack brutality someone reserves for rental cars. Chris Simpson’s got a bass that throbs like that lovable headache you’ve got going on, and all of Brodie Maguire’s guitar playing is the sense that someone has discovered most problems can be solved with volume.
The record gets off to the interesting start of ‘Mike Check’ which I am grateful for at least acknowledging the impending technical issues that will arise. We then bulldoze through ‘Sufferin’ – Succotash!’ — (yes, that’s the real title, complete with cartoon punctuation) — and ‘Treadmill’ which does exactly what a treadmill does: makes you sweaty and second-guess your existence.
It’s at this point that things get really interesting though. It’s as if they sense that they’ve got a stereotype nailed down to a T as some sort of laddies who’ve got volume for personality, and then they swing off to one side and end up doing something genuinely clever. ‘Slow Down’ flows beautifully into ‘The Masquerade’ in a way that makes you wonder if they’ve been playing a trick on us all along. This one clocks in at well over seven minutes, which is practically Wagnerian by Mother Vulture‘s standards. There’s some harmonies that wouldn’t sound amiss on a Muse album, as long as Matt Bellamy had recently received a severe electrical shock and is a tad more crackers than usual.
‘Phoenix’ is where we get the immediate pop anthem, the kind of song February concert attendees will willingly form an encouraging mosh pit around while at the same time worrying about their dentistry. It’s catchy, a certain kind of British catchiness where “catchy” could also describe last week’s leftover Indian takeout, but you go for it nonetheless.
Next, is ‘Corporate Programming’. This, I imagine, was penned after an individual had too much time on hold waiting for their broadband connection to kick in. It’s the type of anger that results from the affectations of modern capitalism, which grinds you down with its incessant hold music. ‘Double Down’ and ‘Knuckles’ come next, with the finesse of a brick through a window – which, inexplicably, is charming in itself.
‘La Matadora’ feels like a track the chucked in for filler. No doubt because they’d run out of enough to shout about, or perhaps because even Mother Vulture needs a holiday. It’s got a sort of wanderabout, Stones-esque swagger to it, implying the lads might own other records, rather than simply the ones with “Punk” scribbled down the back in biro.
‘Bedbugs’ scuttles along with all the right creepy-crawlyness it can muster: (I should get one point for lovely imagery there, really adds to the romance verve.) While the final songs ‘For Years I’ve Been Searching’ and ‘Mountain of Youth’ take a surprisingly thoughtful turn. Or as thoughtful as one can be when razing a garden shed to the ground.
“Cartoon Violence” will never put Mother Vulture in a position where they can purchase a practical mortgage. This is a collection so dwarfed in sales potential that it couldn’t possibly accelerate anyone’s financial stability. However, it may well help them attain something singularly British: supporting themselves without a traditional job. Cartoon Violence is an album which improves with time, for the most part because one can develop a warped fondness for being beaten up.
It is also worth noting the drumming of Matt West, for the most part, and this is only because I am concerned for the durability of the drum set he is abusing. This guy plays the drums like he personally hates the kit and, maybe, the very existence of the drums offends him.
As impressive as what Mother Vulture have done here is to consider when you pick yourself up from the pieces. They’ve released an album that is at once ridiculous and academic, bonkers and thoughtful, aggressive and, well, rather lovely in its own way.
It’s like that friend who is utterly mad when it’s time to go out but, always manages to get you home in one piece.
The recording also conveys that raw, slightly perilous feeling that attends their live performances. The sense that things might go spectacularly pear-shaped at any point but won’t is present. Is. The craft is evident beneath all this mayhem. Whether this is reassuring or slightly let-down-dependent on whether one wants one’s rock music furry or not is open to question.
You should buy the album, buy some merchandise (trust me, they need it more than you do), and go see them on tour in February. Just perhaps bring earplugs and don’t expect the acoustics to be sound. This is Cartoon Violence – this is what Mother Vulture does best – making glorious and unrepentant noise with crazed grins on every single face.
It will not change your life, but perhaps just make your daily commute a little less soul-destroying for thirty-eight minutes.
TRACKLISTING:
01. Mike Check
02. Sufferin’ – Succotash!
03. Treadmill
04. Slow Down
05. The Masquerade
06. Phoenix
07. Corporate Programming
08. Double Down
09. Knuckles
10. Bed Bugs
11. La Matadora
12. For Years I’ve been Searching
13. Mountain Of Youth
LINKS:
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