It is the indestructible hard Chicago school that once again breaks new ground on the third album of the Disappears. That precisely formulated, straightforward alarm blues, as we know it from the unforgotten Jesus Lizard or the early Eleventh Dream Day, for example, interspersed with numerous Shoegaze, Math and Krautrock bonds. In many songs we hear a distant reverberation of early can records from the Malcolm Mooney period. In a sensational way, the band succeeds on the one hand in going to work in a concise and reduced manner and at the same time in giving full throttle. There is a clearly perceptible euphoria, which, however, is never heightened into pathos, but is caught up again and again by iron discipline. It's no coincidence that the Disappears remind one of Sonic Youth at times. The Chicagoers have recently received support from drummer Steve Shelley, who has been searching for new fields of activity since the temporary end of Sonic Youth. In the Disappears he finds kindred spirits, to whom his stoic drum groove fits perfectly. Shelley's contribution seems to make up far more than just a quarter of the overall philosophy. His influence is essential. With him the band starts again on a much higher level. The group's highly hypnotic sounds not only build stable bridges from the sixties through the eighties to the present day, but also between the bitterly hostile music centers of Chicago and New York. The full, rich playing of the guitars of Brian Case (who draws here on his experience with the Posies and 90 Day Men) and Jonathan Van Herik even comforts a little over the loss of Sonic Youth and makes you want more. It's only a matter of time before Thurston Moore joins the Disappears.
Top track: Fear Of Darkness