Review: Iron Monkey Favors Bash Over Flash on Spleen and Goad

Any
self-respecting
sludge
fan
knows
that
Iron
Monkey
created
some
of
the
best
music
in
the
genre
during
their
initial
run.
With
a

self-titled
debut
(1997)
and
a
worthy
follow-up


Our
Problem
(1998),
the
Nottingham
marauders
made
some
of
the
decade’s
most
infectiously
violent
and
hateful
music.
With
an
impossibly
groovy
rhythm
section,
riffs
both
timeless
and
grating,
and
vocals
that
shouldn’t
even
be
possible,
it
didn’t
take
long
for
the
band
to
achieve
cult
status
within
the
UK
scene
and
beyond.
Unfortunately,
it
also
didn’t
take
long
for
the
band
to
implode.
The
story
of
label
issues,
unsustainable
tour
antics,
and
a
general
self-destructive
attitude
has
been
well
documented,
and
the
tragic
death
of
vocalist
Johnny
Morrow
seemed
to
close
the
book
of
Iron
Monkey
forever.

Many
fans
responded
with
incredulity
when
Iron
Monkey
returned
with
a
new
lineup
and
a
new
album.
To
that
effect,


9-13
did
fairly
well
for
itself
as
an
album
no
one
expected
and
many
thought
shouldn’t
exist
without
Morrow
or
founding
drummer
Justin
Greeves.
Regardless,
founding
members,
guitarist
Jim
Rushby
and
guitarist-turned-bassist
Steve
Watson,
did
admirable
work
with
drummer
Scott
“Brigga”
Briggs
before
he
was
replaced
by
Steven
“Ze
Big”
Mellor.
The
downsized
lineup
(from
five
members
to
three)
proved,
at
least,
that
they
could
still
create
music
made
for
getting
zonked
and
fighting
people.
And
now,
at
least,

Spleen
And
Goad
feels
like
a
step
forward
for
this
iteration
of
Iron
Monkey.

As
corroborated
in
the
liner
notes
of
a
re-release
of
the
first
two
albums,
‘90s
Iron
Monkey
initially
wanted
to
get
away
from
the
stoner
music
in
favor
of
a
punkier
sound.
To
that
effect,
the
opening
track
“Misanthropizer”
doesn’t
seem
to
far
from
what
might’ve
happened
if
Iron
Monkey’s
initial
run
hadn’t
ended.
Stripped
back,
raw,
and
primitive,
it
becomes
easier
to
ignore
the
fact
Ze
Big
doesn’t
throw
as
many
percussive
curveballs
as
Greeves
did.
In
the
same
way,
it’s
hard
to
deny
how
angry
Watson
sounds
as
he
screams
his
brains
out.
It
might
not
be
Morrow
status,
but
it
embodies
that
reckless
hate
that
made
the
band
indispensable.
The
shuffling
battery
of
“Concrete
Shock”
achieves
something
similar,
embracing
a
“thud,
whack,
crash”
approach
and
keeping
the
punches
coming
from
front
to
back.
It’s
like
punkey
blues,
played
by
pissed-off
orcs
on
a
sick
bath
salts
bender.

The
death
swing
buggy
continues
with
“CSP,”
further
emphasizing
Iron
Monkey’s
appreciation
for
keeping
things
streamlined
and
lethal.
One
oft-overlooked
aspect
of
the
band’s
older
tunes
is
how
many
ideas
play
out
within
the
sonic
fray,
so
the
relative
simplicity
of
their
current
approach
remains
a
distinctive
quality.
The
good
news
is,
Rushby
and
Watson
come
through
riffs
worth
marinating
in,
like
the
string-bending
chug-fest
of
“Off
Switch.”
Backed
by
filthy
guitar
and
bass
tones,
along
with
animalistic
caterwauls,
this
is
sludge
at
its
most
unfiltered.
Though
these
tunes
aren’t
as
choppy
as
the
old
ones,
this
trio
embraces
their
role
as
a
mean
brawling
machine.

For
all
its
primal
rage,
welcome
shakeups
remain
within
the
plodding
misery,
like
the
frenetic
hardcore
stylings
of
“Rat
Flag.”
Again,
whereas
early
Iron
Monkey
would
have
mixed
in
the
double
time
with
slower
riffs,
this
song
centers
entirely
on
two-stepping
mayhem.
It’s
worth
stressing
this
more
meat-and-potatoes
approach
because
Iron
Monkey
in
2024
clearly
doesn’t
want
to
reinvent
the
wheel.
They
want
to
pound
listeners
into
submission
with
the
harsh
essentials
of
sludge
metal.
Of
course,
this
doesn’t
lead
to
an
album
with
many
twists
and
turns.
Hearing
the
first
couple
of
passages
of
“Lead
Transfusion”
leaves
little
to
the
imagination
the
rest
of
its
run
time.
It’s
here
where
the
question
can
be
asked,
“Did
this
song
need
to
be
five
minutes
long?”

At
the
same
time,
you
have
a
track
like
“Exlexed,”
which
steers
closer
to
the
variations
within
the
old
Iron
Monkey
while
maintaining
the
throttling
grit
of
the
new
Iron
Monkey.
Some
acrobatic
fretwork
and
beat
changes
certainly
contrast
with
the
droning
dirge
of
“The
Gurges.”
This
cut
draws
more
comparisons
to
the
ultra-slow
sludgers
like
Noothgrush
or
Grief,
soaking
in
every
morsel
of
bile
each
descending
guitar
strain
or
feedback
stab
has
to
offer.
Lack
of
variation
becomes
a
weapon,
as
Iron
Monkey
hacks
deeper
and
deeper
at
the
soul
with
every
turn
of
the
circle.
It’s
also
telling
that
after
the
rising
action,
the
outro
“O
D
Rose”
flows
naturally
as
a
wall
of
feedback
and
gurgling
noise.
No
pleasantries.
No
nuance.
Just
anger.

Spleen
And
Goad
finds
Iron
Monkey
sticking
to
their
guns
and
throwing
up
a
middle
finger
at
anyone
who
questions
why
they’re
still
here
making
noise.
For
a
band
self-described
as
a
way
to
annoy
as
many
people
as
possible,
this
album
will
certainly
repel
all
but
true
sludge
heads.
These
guys
hit
hard
and
mean,
and
sutably
dispel
comparisons
to
the
glory
days
with
pure
ruthless
aggression.

Iron
Monkey’s
Spleen
And
Goad

is
out
April
5
via

Relapse
Records.