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Details: “Please turn the volume up for maximum effect”

This line is probably the safest thing to put on the back of a record in 2005. Thirty years ago, sure, this might’ve been the vanguard. Trying to get people to turn it up to piss off the neighbors or to give a warmed-over glimpse of what the band sound like if they were standing right in front of you. This theory has a few drawbacks for the average listener: 1. There are only a handful of albums that hold up well at maximum volume the whole way through. 2. Neighbors are usually quick to stop the loud racket next door. and lastly, 3. Most people’s hi-fi equipment sucks.




So what’s the point? Put simply, turning it up won’t magically bring the music to life. The secret is to have the music sound deafening even when it isn’t turned up to eleven.

Now, Part Chimp aren’t the first band to use volume as their calling card, but they’re definitely one of the finest. Sure, The Who were the loudest, but they’ve been phoning it in for years. My Bloody Valentine? The Swans? Perhaps it best to limit this discussion to bands that are actually still in existence. The point of this is not to say that Part Chimp is to be considered just one in a prestigious line of loud bands. Far from it.




A quick study of the songs on their latest and greatest “I Am Come” will prove that they’ve got the chops. Drone and hypnotic rhythm might’ve been Krautrock’s signature, but the boys from Camberwell have appropriated it for themselves with tremendous results.

In this age where bands smash guitars on stage in lieu of actual performance acumen, it’s good to know that Part Chimp are here to pick up where others have left off. And no matter how loud you turn “I Am Come” it will always come out as majestic. Welcome back, fellas. C’mon in. Bring back the sound. – Henry H Owings/Chunklet Magazine April 2005



-) 2002 : 'Chart Pimp' on Rock Action.



-) 2005 : 'I Am Come' on Rock Action.

Artrocker's point of view :

Immediately ambushed by droning repetitive sounds drilled into comprehension by cymbal crashes, the first minute is exhilarating. This adrenaline rush ups a notch as the intro to recent single "War Machine" chimes in and is pummelled by the aural equivalent of a road drill. Welcome to Mogwai territory as we pull back the iron curtain of melody and send forth armies of sonic terrorists.

The barrage is unrelenting as the tremendously titled "Hello Bastards" perpetrates chilling audio crimes against passive ear canals. Shouting something ironically inaudible about "sonic disease" the band continue thumping their respective instruments in a deranged scouring of stoner rock. "Unlistenable", "Depraved", "Wreckless abadonment", "Noisy and tuneless" are all juicy and desirable press soundbytes that Part Chimp would lovingly embrace.

I get the feeling you're not supposed to like it. In band rehersals and meetings these guys probably discussed how to alienate any audience they could find. They came up with this record. On several counts they failed. You see, this album has a couple of discernable tunes. It has an all conquering distaste for convention. It reminds me that bellowing guitars and earthquake percussion dissolving into static can be scintillating.

I mean, "Fasto" is Ikara COlt being put through a mincer by Godzilla. How good does that sound?!! Regardless, going through track by track is pointless. Listening to the whole forty minutes in one sitting with no pause for breath, absorbing everything, getting completely saturated is your, and their, goal. You can shower afterwards. In a parallel time and place this would constitute a whole genre and be called grime.

Part Chimp would be celebrated in every shitty dive on the planet and "I Am Come"'s "I'm not singing anymore" would be both footy mantra and motto of every aspiring rock band in the country. They'd be awarded knighthoods and have something in the region of thirty gabillion fans.

Back to reality and its very easy to dismiss this as aimless angular aggression. On intital listens thats what it seems. Letting it wash over you though you begin to appreciate the orchestral sensibilities of feedback and rapidly attacked strings. Its weight and enormity is a burden that should either be digested whole or not at all. The ten tonne riffs drag and cast this potential space-rock to terrafirma and force it down into subterranean hideouts. This is a true gem waiting to be unearthed.

Brad Barrett - website.




You can listen to a few tracks on the band's Myspace page.



-) Official site.
-) Myspace.
-) Rock Action.