Loose Sutures Album Art

Loose Sutures' Fuzzy Garage Rock Bleeds and Festers

Garage rock, as its name implies, is anything but polished, a fact which sometimes hamstrings its disciples as they try to break free of preconceptions. Not Loose Sutures, though, who are happy to take the genre’s rough-hewn profile and make it even sleazier. The Italian fuzz-rockers’ metaphorical garage is knee-deep in entrails and grime, embracing the grit and pouring it atop their heavy stoner rock. Their debut self-titled is gross, amiable fun, and we’re streaming it now, so wade on in:

Loose Sutures puts you in the front row for an inebriated jam session where riffs are a plentiful delicacy, served up course-by-course between a series of numbered interludes that stitch the album together with thematically appropriate sound bites. Those short breaks feel like the moments in a band practice where everyone’s got to tune up and take a drink… and as the time-honored ritual demands, the drummer’s required to drop some fills into the empty space. Then, we’re launched into the huge — and I mean huge — riffs that define the band’s punk-laced sound.

Each quick-paced number gravitates around one or two of these fuzzed-up monstrosities, which act as enticing hooks backed by walloping drums and a suitably nasty bass tone.

For as short as these tracks are, they pack a lot of soul — leads feel organic, nearly improvised, and once the initial abrasiveness of the vocals wear off they’re almost endearing. At the same time, the album gives off an unnerving stench. Red-lining, snarled vocals proclaim impure thoughts on tracks like “Wish to Fuck a Dead-Man,” and the depravity lurking behind the music makes itself evident with each uncontrolled spike of feedback and every reckless fill. It’s a rude, splatter-packed ride, but just like the horror VHS still found in many of our closets, as ostentatious and vulgar as it is, it feels like home.

Loose Sutures releases March 27th via Electric Valley Records. The band issued the following statement about the album:

We are proud to have given birth to our creature, between cries of terror, moans, sweat, and blood. It is an unhealthy, bizarre and annoying record.

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