EP REVIEW: P22 – HUMAN SNAKE (POST PRESENT MEDIUM)
Picture the scene, you’re in LA, its 35 degrees the suns out and you’re in shorts and a t shirt. You’ve not got any plans for the night ahead and you feel as if the world’s your oyster. Suddenly you walk past a small music venue and hear what you think is someone putting nails in a blender. “My god, what on earth are those people doing in there?!” you think to yourself. But, being the upstanding citizen you are, you make your way inside to see if everyone is alright. To your surprise what you see upon arrival isn’t the destruction of any household items but in fact a punk band 7 minutes into their 15-minute set. The band’s name is P22 and the songs they are playing are from their latest and only available to stream EP Human Snake. Now to the untrained eye what I have just told you may seem like a negative review and to be honest at first listen that’s what I thought this was going to be as well but after actually listening to what they are trying to achieve with the EP and what the finished product is, it started to dawn on me that either I am at a point in my life where my music taste is completely shot to bits or this pseudo industrial post punk EP is one of the best things I’ve heard since lockdown.
With 9 tracks and clocking in at just over 17 minutes this album can really pass you by with songs like ‘Shortly’, ‘Reprise for Steer’ and ‘The Manager’ all clocking in at around the 1 minute mark. But in this day and age where some form of ADD is brought on by instant access to 99% of the things we want each day these songs don’t feel like they are selling you short. Especially when they are packed full of fast riffs and moody vocals which are consistently at the bottom of the mix to good effect. In fact you sometimes get the impression that the mix has almost been flipped with a song like ‘Farrowing Crate’ for example being led by drums and bass being played at break neck speed, a guitar where the vocals would normally be and the vocals throughout a lot of the song serving as a sort of rhythm instrument. This just adds to Human Snake’s overall feel though. You’re not listening to hear what the singer is saying, or even if she’s saying anything at all.
What this album boils down to is 9 bursts of raw punk noise. 9 fuck you’s. This kind of expressionism has been around for centuries, there is no difference between Whitman sounding his “Barbaric yawp” and each of Human Snakes tracks. Actually, if this review comes down to anything it is exactly that. 9 barbaric yawps. Enjoy.