Masking has to be more prevalent than we realize. We spend our time in an attention economy, looking at images and posts catered to get the most reactions from friends, family, and strangers online. One cannot measure how much this behavior has impacted our daily interactions, inasmuch as we increasingly speak in memes, letting viral trends and their meanings speak for us, substituting not only more eloquent language, but also the thought processes that go into conversation. Our personalities are ever eroding to social media quips and behavior that mirrors what we consume. Life imitates art, after all, and our most consumed art is often trite. So, with Wish Defense, the sixth studio album from Chicago’s FACS, the band explores the duality of man, examining moments that could expose the increasingly masked ‘true self.’
These ideas have been heavy on my mind these last few weeks. As I watch my country backslide into its historical greed and discrimination, and begin to address my own mental health in these seemingly bleak times, I have begun to reckon with my own identity and authenticity as well as trying to reduce my time and participation on the same social media apps that have empowered the oligarchs attempting to shape the global economy and the government of the United States. Admittedly, I have been dealing with some shit and have procrastinated this review, but I have a deep love for FACS and Wish Defense has helped address these thoughts and themes.
Ever evolving, FACS have returned to their original line-up of Brian Case, Jonathan Van Herik, and Noah Leger, who recorded their debut album, Negative Houses after their previous band, Disappears, disbanded. There has been a switch-up in their approach, however, as Case and Van Herik swapped their respective guitar and bass roles, giving FACS a new dynamic for writing and recording Wish Defense. Notably, Wish Defense is also the last album recorded and engineered by Steve Albini prior to his untimely death. The engineering was finished by Electric Audio’s Sanford Parker and mixed by John Congleton using Albini’s notes and analog tape.
This switch-up created a new-ish sound for FACS, blending all of the elements of the band’s previous albums while harkening back to Negative Houses and Case’s earlier band, 90 Day Men (who recently had a reissue box set released on Numero Group). The result is less dub influence, but maintains the atmospheric palette the band has developed over their career. It feels more minimal, but FACS are too mathy and textured to be considered a minimalist act. “Talking Haunted” kicks off the album with a Joy Division-inspired sound, stripped down and somber, while later tracks like “A Room” showcase more dynamic drumming and building guitars that transition from angular jaggedness into lush repetition. Fuzz bass and reverb touched guitars carry “Sometimes Only” into ballad territory were it not for Case’s sung-spoken vocals and Leger’s complex rhythms.
These core musical elements wax and wan in different pulses throughout the album, demonstrating the black and white checkered cover art and the theme of duality between post-punk’s anxious energy and the ethereal qualities of shoegaze and goth music. Meanwhile, the theme of duality is explored lyrically on the title track as it explores mirrored images and living, culminating in the repetition of ‘I’m not here/Are you real?‘ “Desire Path,” to me, examines the dangers of nostalgia and self-identity in both a personal sense, but also one that could be applied to the authoritarian playbook of romanticizing a mythological past: ‘Sold the past/To live again/Redefine the era/You thought you were in/It ties you up.’
FACS remains one of the best bands out of the Midwest, shifting their signature sound in subtle ways that make each album a thrill. On Wish Defense, they have distilled their push and pull of minimalism and maximalism into a perfect mix of the band’s present and past, a unique feat for a band six albums in. Their density of sound and sparse lyrics further mirror this, rewarding each listen with new interpretations and introspections. Even if you don’t want to spend time interpreting lyrics and the dense, head trip of duality, whether of consciousness or of self or of a nation, there is a lot to love in the complex arrangements and moods presented on this album.
