The Locust - Plague Soundscapes

They talk shit. They wear insect suits. Their songs rarely break the minute marker. You can’t understand their lyrics. They sell make-up compacts at their shows. Yet, the Locust has created a label (Three One G), sold 25,000 copies of their self-titled full-length (multi-platinum status by indie standards) and resurrected legions of rabid fans (and even more haters) across the country. But why? With The Locust and Flight of the Wounded Locust, the four-piece cross pollinated Moog synths with grindcore violence to arrive at a sound that corroded punk rock from the inside out as their illustrious stage show began to gather circles of indie followers. Now, with an inflated studio budget that’s resulted in production infinitely better than before and the backing of Epitaph Records, the Locust have accelerated their sound to a point where theatrics, shit-talking and costumes take a backseat. With Plague Soundscapes, the Locust expand and explode their Moog-riddled grindcore past with an album that finds Joseph Karam’s synths in the same sights as the noise puked up from their standard bass/drum/guitar ensemble. The indiscernible vocals smother Plague Soundscapes as drums misfire at machinegun pace while synths suffocate you beneath a wall of ear-rotting noise. Yeah, the album’s 21 minutes rarely deviate from this formula in its 23 tracks, but this is sound accelerated so far past the radio-rock world of today that Plague Soundscapes’ noise-induced ear lashings actually feel good. [www.thelocust.com]