Yahoo! Music Album Review

Released on 04/05/09
Label: Warner Bros

"Set light to the flag we used to fly / God help us now, we are ready to die." "Grey Britain" is not about hope. It's about being young, British and doomed. And Gallows are the first band since this country's economic infrastructure collapsed to vent their considerable anger. But given this album's been a while in the making, they must have been angry for a while. They either have greater foresight than our bank managers, or got lucky. Because their timing is impeccable.

Singer Frank Carter has been an icon before. When Gallows' debut "Orchestra Of Wolves" dropped in 2006 he was hailed, notably by the NME, as the saviour of punk. The heavily tattooed, ginger haired, wiry tattoo artist's face and body would arch out venomously from magazine covers. He's been livid for ages. Now more than ever. On opener "The Riverbank" his voice sounds like knives and his lyrics are pumped with doom-laden prophesising.

His accent is pure London (well, Watford) and he gratuitously misses the 'h' off any word starting with one, lending his polemic a hint of Johnny Rotten's over-accentuation. But the raucous quintet's music is far removed from the Sex Pistols. Whereas punk's famous rioters tried hard to sound ramshackle and resisted temptations of guitar solos or clean production, Gallows' songs are complex medleys of flitting time signatures, enormous power chords and monstrous squawks. It's almost prog.

And it's relentless. Part two of "The Vulture (Acts I & II)" is "Grey Britain"'s lead single (yes, 'acts', hello again prog), is as violent as hardcore gets. Reminiscent of Minor Threat, it's leering, ominous, threatening and not in the least bit friendly. It's aggressive and stunningly compelling. Gallows are the sonic equivalent of the angry man in the pub who's been done irreversibly wrong by someone and would rather tell you about it by shouting constantly, without reply, than listen to reason.

Carter can't be much fun to be around. Even with a £1 million record deal he's not happy (those Warner Bros bigwigs presumably see him as the next leader of Generation X, a la Kurt Cobain). But he sure as hell sounds convincing. "Black Eyes" and "Queensberry Rules" ("Carve this corpse into your chest / To remind you of this f*cking mess") pile on the misery. Final track "Crucif*cks" is a brutal rallying cry: "All the pigs have been bled dry / Who's with me?" Plenty of people will be, because Gallows are the sound of this country's rising fury. And people in power need to listen, because if it spills over, there'll be trouble.

    by Tom Howard