Genre : Noise rock, Hardcore, Sludge, Post-punk
Released : May 5th, 2023
Label : Learning Curve Records / Redscroll Records
FFO : Chat Pile, KEN Mode, Tunic, Nerver, Willzyx
Imagine an arguably grimier, dirtier, perhaps even more unhinged and less "theatrical" version of Chat Pile, replacing thudding sludge for unceremonious hardcore punk and you would come close to describing the happenings of Intercourse's "Halo Castration Institute".
As simplistic and ignorant as this comparison is, given that Intercourse have been active longer than the Oklahoma City noise-sludge sensations, that's pretty much what was going through my mind from the moment the album's opening statement «Hey man, wanna see a dead body?» rang out, bringing the album's cover art to life in the process and setting the tone for what I had unknowingly just stepped foot into.
A look at "Halo Castration Institute"'s opening track title "Where Loosers Go To Die" as well as the rest of its track titles ("Skin Walker Brothel" has to be among the best song titles of the year) further cements the morbid expectations one can have going into this record ; and if there were still any doubts, vocalist Tarek Ahmed's psychotic, angry-rambling-drunkard style of delivery and blunt, crude, tongue-in-cheek lyricsim confirms the confrontational morbidity of Intercourse's music as it is later implied that the aforementioned dead body is none other than the narrators soon-to-be corpse.
There is no attempt from the band whatsoever to create any kind of chorus or song structure upon which the listener can latch on, to give "Halo Castration Institute"'s ten tracks any sort of musical catchiness or anchorage.
On the contrary, it is the band's anti-structure, anti-melody approach to songwriting that makes the album not only memorable but hit the mark given the themes it covers.
Again, there is no attempt from vocalist Tarek Ahmed to create any rhyme schemes or work alongside the instrumentation in order to fit in the arrangements, however there are many zany, deranged, out-of-pocket, menacing or darkly comedic lines such as : «If you can't handle me at my Ted Kaczynski ; Honey, you don't deserve me at my Chuck Bukowski» immediately followed by «Nobody cares unless you're pretty or dead» on the track "Hollywood, Florida" for example.
"Halo Castration Institute" stares in the face of the ugly realities of social issues that are often themselves results or consequences of capitalism-driven lifestyles in the Western world in a similar fashion as Chat Pile's "God's Country" did last year.
With tracks touching upon the soul-crushing dissatisfaction with life caused by the "daily grind" and the many detrimental effects this can have upon mental health, often segwaying into substance abuse, or the persisting social inequalities that only seem to get deeper no matter how much work you put in : «Something's fucked when you've worked six days a week your entire adult life ; But still need to take out a loan to keep your house warm».
Intercourse also address disruptive or counter-productive mentalities that exist in social or political discourse, persisting discrimination and racial bias, always through the venomous, satirical lens of a man who sounds like he has absolutely nothing to loose, spewing his bile before making his exit from the hellscape he describes and that broke him in the first place.
«What's planet Earth if not a body farm?» demands the album's closing track "Kabristan" before it spitefully leaves the listener with its final nihilistic statement : «You won't even be able to hear the idiots that love you cry», tying back to the album's opening after a mere twenty-three minutes that are able to paint an unending nightmare scenario, somewhere between psychosis and a mental breakdown any person who overwhelmed with the ways of the modern world and brought to the tipping point could find themselves subjected to.
You've gotten the idea by now, Intercourse don't provide an escape from the hardships of daily life through their music on "Halo Castration Institute" but rather grab the listener by their scalp and force their head under the surface of grimy sewage waste waters.
Whether this acts as double-edged catharsis, anger-release or the last drop to tip the vase and make matters worse is entirely up to you.