Joyful, optimistic, and wondrous are words that have never been used to describe the music of Uniform. Michael Berdan’s lyrics have explored his mental health struggles, addicition, and a pessimistic view of the human condition and the world surrounding us. The sharp-edges of the music have given these themes a saw-toothed canvas on which to paint. Like a Phillip Glass piece, each part of Uniform’s journey has seen extra layers to plunge their sounds deeper into the abyss. Their early albums found vocalist Berdan and guitarist Ben Greenberg playing with a drum machine like a hyperspeed Godflesh; fast forward to their 5th album proper American Standard and they’ve got two drummers and Interpol’s bassist Brad Truax on board to create a coherent piece of art. With an even deeper dive into Berdan’s personal battles they’ve musically explored the boundaries of what they could achieve.
While it was four years since their last album proper with Shame, last year’s Bright New Disease with their former tour mates Boris seems to have paved the way for a exploratory Uniform to have grown beyond their past selves. Bright New Disease wasn’t quite what I expected as it found new sounds for both bands, but with American Standard they have given me almost what I expected then with a slower, sludgier affair with a stripped-back approach but full-bodied sound. The first half of the album is entirely made up of its 21-minute title track. Like an apocalyptic “Just Abandoned Myself”, they’ve channeled their Japanese friends to create a monolithic opening that goes through highs, lows, and movements from lurching sludge to bright, melodic metal. After Berdan’s opening screams sound like the inner mental turmoil of a drill sergeant, the track comes to life with a pounding bass rumble over a churning drum beat. The rhythms are slow but unrelenting under a surprisingly glistening guitar as the band carefully push their way through a repetitive and punishing opening 10 minutes.
The band are as tight and clean as they have ever sounded, hitting each blow of distortion perfectly between feedback-laden breaks which build tension as you wait to be hit again. Droning like a blend of the uber-sophisticated tones of Sunn O))) and the raw-punk styled assault of Corrupted, “American Standard” sinisterly hums through its parts until its chopped and screwed into turmoil, allowing space to breathe about 14 minutes in. Within this space, Greenberg’s guitar shines brightly. As Berdan painfully churns ‘my throat is raw’ before launching into more of his inward. The resulting movement of the track is a gloriously melodic wave, powered by blast beats and a body-shaking bass along with that glistening guitar. It’s reminiscent of the climactic parts of Respire albums, where the melody and pain intertwine into something strangely beautiful. It’s an unbelievably epic thing for Uniform to have created following their career thus far, a massive undertaking of human emotion and musical prowess.
From the opening though, the energy and the feeling are laid by Berdan’s vocals. Writing about the album in The Quietus, Berdan has expanded on American Standard’s themes, his own struggles with bulimia nervosa. More difficult than his mental health and addiction, he outlines trips to the toilet covered up the sound of the faucet and his general struggles with food. The name American Standard in fact comes from a plumbing fixture company: ‘Go to your toilet bowl right now, and chances are you’ll see their logo’, Berdan says. On his own image he expands: ‘When it comes to my personal body image, my thinking is critically distorted. When it comes to my personal health, my thinking is critically distorted’. From here, its quick to see what the foundational feeling of American Standard is. Berdan’s opening shrieks are a to-the-point train of thought, examining parts of his body with meat on them that can’t belong to his body.
‘A part of me but it can’t be me. It can’t. Oh god, it can’t. There’s meat on my waist. It hangs on my waist. There’s meat on my arms. It hangs on my arms. There’s meat on my legs. It hangs on my legs. There’s meat on my face. It hangs off my face. Sweats like I sweat. Cries like I cry. Wreaks like I wreak. Bleeds like I bleed… It’s something else. It can’t be me.’
The pain is palpable from the outset and carries on throughout, a suitably uneasy listen that feels almost too personal to be enjoyed. Throughout the track, Berdan largely stands atop a fairly stunning mountain of music.
Second track “This Is Not a Prayer” roars into life quickly with pounding drums before the propulsive bass joins. Berdan remains shrieking atop. This is probably the most typically Uniform one on the album, with a scratchy guitar given space not to fill the whole track. While the full sound of American Standard is better for the bass, its role is full apparent throughout this track as Greenberg’s guitar is almost secondary, embellishing an already aggressive sound, whereas before, the guitar needed to lead everything as nothing else would fill the space and provide a foil for Berdan. The overly percussive feeling of the track gives both drummers (usual touring drummer Michael Blume and Mike C Sharp, who played on The Long Walk, formerly of Hatred Surge) a chance to show themselves off. It’s as unrelenting as you could ever expect from Uniform, but with a more considered approach to how this is delivered.
“Clemency” begins with sampled violins before a sludge-stoner riff explodes into the track. A four-on-the-floor bass beat powers the verse before a slowed double-kick gives backing to a modern Godflesh-esque chorus. The dissonance of the track is cleanly produced but given room to move. Halfway through, a more conventional sludge riff kicks in but with a forceful bass to give it real assault. It’s a different kind of heavy from the band, looking outwards to expand their horizons and push their own boundaries. The pacing of the album also feels notably different for them here too. Within each song there are peaks and troughs. With longer compositions and more considered musical segues and sections, there’s an edge of their sound replaced with something more accomplished. While Shame had the sub-2 minute “Dispatches From the Gutter” to break up the album, here there is only growing, grueling compositions that relentlessly yet thoughtfully pummel.
Closer “Permanent Embrace” is the shortest track by some distance at just under 4 minutes, and it’s a fairly short blast but still with percussive force. Greenberg’s guitar recalls their earlier albums with its simple, repetitive, and distorted riff. The chorus is the heaviest part of the album, yet still with a melodic brevity the band had previously presented in few places. As closer, this does bring the album to a sudden end, an almost relieving one given its intensity, but I can’t help but wonder if the order is a bit off. While Berdan’s introduction to the album on American Standard sets the tone, I wonder if the title track should have followed “Permanent Embrace”. Using its momentum as a way in while it can carefully bring the album to its climax before it ends. I did try it and found it a more balanced listen, but let this take nothing away from how phenomenal American Standard is.
American Standard is by far Uniform’s most accomplished album. They’ve built themselves up to a a massive sound in their current form, with well-considered and well thought out parts to every song. While that raw edge and industrial roughness has taken away something of their character, what they’ve added in is a prowess and power while expanding their already biting personality.
