Manawi Thorn | Feed and Weep

FRESH BAKED
in NYC
Manawi Thorn
Feed and Weep
2009 | Self-Released
D+

Originally hailing from Chicago, I’ve had a long exposure to math-rock. If there’s one thing the city of big shoulders keeps alive (other than hospitality, and a magical sandwich called the Italian Beef) it’s technically driven post-rock, bands that are significantly more focused on the musicianship than the music. I left that city thinking that math was just the way local scenes were – that the reason most of these bands didn’t get full on indie exposure (past Don Caballero, and the old guys like Slint and the Jesus Lizard) was because they were somehow more progressive and authentic. They were more interested in creating music for musicians then they were with fans, in a somewhat self-righteous sort of “hey, look at me, I’m finger tapping and you can’t even comprehend my time signatures.” That was just the state of local music. And then I got to Brooklyn.

Manawi Thorn does not sound like a Brooklyn band. They don’t really sound like any band I’ve heard over the last few years, or really much like a band from the 2000s. In fact, the confluence of their sound seems wrapped up in one label and one time: the late 80s in the offices of Touch and Go Records. From the first moments of Feed and Weep, you can almost see Steve Albini creeping around the corner, staring in at the band’s practice. Opener “2 Against 3” starts with an industrial, angular guitar riff blasting off at odd time signatures, a counterintuitive drum beats, and yelped vocals so low in the balance that you’d swear Mr. Albini’s Shellac is moonlighting under a different name (except…err…Thorn isn’t quite as good).

But, at the same time, it is refreshing to hear a band going back to the Melvins, Big Black, and the Jesus Lizard, and starting from there. Those definitional bands still find their way into modern indie, and Steve Albini continues to leave his fingerprints on all sorts of music, but it’s different than hearing any new output in line with Songs About Fucking or Goat.

The problem is, that once the initial thrill of “2 Against 3” wears off, the album takes a turn for the worse. Songs like “Changeling” and “Jenny Green Teeth” sound more like neo-prog giants the Mars Volta, or cock-industrial rock like Nine Inch Nails than they do like David Yow. This leaves Feed and Weep very unsatisfying, starting off with such sure footing, and just kind of meandering through songs that sound like their idols, but not contributing anything to the genre. If Manawi Thorn would have recorded a whole album that sounds like “2 Against 3,” it would have been a lot more than what the album ultimately becomes: inconsistent explorations in “hard rock.”

A lot of this inconsistency derives from the length of Thorn’s songs, and the cumbersome length of the album itself. “Jersey City Limits” begins with a piece of bitter spoken word about Budweiser and desperation, over a bass line (cool); the song quickly devoles into an endlessly riffing guitar with smirking vocals that sound like a combination between something like the Blood Brothers and Hoobastank (not cool). If the band would’ve just run with their original idea, the song would’ve been two and a half minutes long, and interesting. Instead, as they genre hop, “Jersey City Limits” winds up being a five minute aimless odyssey. The same can be said about “Jenny Green Teeth,” “EOE,” and “Monstro” – which, along with “Jersey,” make up a bulk of the album.

But, in the end, a lot has to be said about Manawi Thorn’s ideas in Feed and Weep. If the song didn’t insist on a minute long noodling breakdown, “Narcoleptic Blues” would have been really great. If it wasn’t for the organ introduction and soloing in “Sunshine,” it could’ve melted faces. In fact, this band should never employ another solo breakdown – angular music didn’t need it, Spiderland didn’t have it, and at this point, hard rock needs to learn from those examples.

And this is the advice that I give to both Manawi Thorn and the aforementioned members of Chicago’s math community: musicianship is important (if not integral) to truly great music. But flaunting your ability on the guitar more often than not waters down just how heavy your band is; it actually reduces the aggression instead of showing it off. Manawi Thorn is an incredibly capable band, and Feed and Weep shows that. Now they just need to do something with it.

Stream “2 Against 3.”

by Max Sebela