album: PITH - Melkbelly
words: Eric Bennett
On their new record PITH, Melkbelly reassert themselves as one of noise rock’s most inventive acts. The album title captures the group’s essence, highlighting their brief yet loaded sound. Lead vocalist Miranda Winters appears in control and at ease among chaotic arrangements and shredding soundscapes—and she should. Since breaking out into the Chicago scene in 2014, Melkbelly has become one of the most interesting and idiosyncratic acts making music today, thanks in part to the electric reputation of their live shows. Their music features a level of interplay and chemistry that no doubt comes from three-quarters of the band being family.
One of the things that make Melkbelly stand out amongst their peers is that, despite making hectic noise, rock is their underlying understanding of melody. They manage to weave songs with a subtle pop sensibility that makes numbers like album opener “THC” stay with you. While the song is laidback at times, the occasional burst of fuzzy guitar gives it anervous energy, like a pleasant summer day with storm clouds looming overhead.
On the menacing and hazy “Sickeningly Teeth,” the band experiments with tempo in a way that toys with the listener’s expectations. By alternately slowing down and breaking into fits of rapid drums, they tease a breakdown only to pull it back. The game of cat and mouse they put forth here only leaves the listener hoping for more, and wondering what might come next.
“Little Bug” is an outlier of sorts: despite still having fiery swells of guitar, the song comes across as the closest thing to repose on a record full of otherwise frantic energy. Its rocking back and forth is as disarming as it is comforting, and its melody feels like storytelling. Winters’ voice carries a stern yet kind tone while addressing the titular bug causing her grief: “Little bug you’re flapping wings in my face / while I’m trying to sleep / making things difficult.” It’s the tone you might use to discipline a young child.
A true highlight of the album, the song “Kissing Under Some Bats” is an odyssey. In the beginning, Winters is working overtime, going between deadpan delivery one moment to a hair-raising cry the next. It also features some darkly playful commentary in the lyrics, “Stop introducing yourself as just a girlfriend / because it's twee and unnecessary.” Those moments have her voice so delayed you’d think she’s split in two. Then, after this energetic cut up, the song reveals its true strength: the band members do not stop. They play on, each instrument shining through at different moments but keeping together in harmony. It goes on like this until, one by one, the guitar, bass, and drums begin to fizzle out, leaving its listener awestruck.
The album artwork features an abstract ceramic sculpture by Chicago artist Deborah Handler. Though created with incredible specificity and artistic intent, abstract art is subject to a different reading by anyone who witnesses it, and in fitting this dichotomy Melkbelly’s music is, too, a sort of abstract art. Though they’ve used rare equipment and played with atmosphere to create something distinct, the sound’s abstractions are inherent and leave the art they make open to interpretation. Nobody but Melkbelly could have made this music, or made it nearly as powerful.