Typesetter’s Wild’s End starts out with a great sense of urgency and fury. We immediately are in this record. There is a slightly messy slightly frantic undercurrent to this album. It works to get you riled up and the album never lets you come down. I can only imagine what a pit would be like. Within the album, and even within individual tracks, hey are creating the tension and the relapse – brilliant.
I think that my immediate reactions to this album was so positive because it sounds so raw, so authentic, so “this could be my friends’ band”. I feel like I am there at the show, in the studio, part of what makes this album awesome, not as a pure spectator/listener/consumer.
Wild’s End starts with Obvious Imperfections, the music is thrash, there is distortion layered on top of distortion, the beat is slightly irregular. Just a fantastic way of controlling the listener. I feel like they are changing my heartbeat and breathing pattern. Yet there are still places where you can’t help but sing along. That gives way to Cut Teeth, unless you are paying strict attention, you do not realize where each song ends and begins, but Cut Teeth quickly establishes its own sound and feel. TFW runs the gamut of sounds, the bass in the intro is overtaking, in the middle you cannot help but sing along, and the feedback at the end pulls us into the next track. Sunday Best is actually almost catchy, it men not quite catchy, but enough to sing along to.
Every time I listen to this album, I am immediately psyched on Obvious Imperfections, but then by the time I get to the final track, Wild’s End, I am convinced that it is the best track, but if the album starts over I am back onboard with Obvious Imperfections,. To me that shows just how much progression this album goes through.
Typesetter uses noise, distortion, hooks, yelling, screaming, singing all mashed together in Wild’s End. The balance (or in places the imbalance) of each of these elements (in various pairings and configurations) is what makes this album sound so real and make it feel so damned identifiable.