Fotocrime Shares New Single And Video From The Upcoming Album “Scrutiny”

Exploding with tales of overblown machismo at the nuclear chess board, mental instability in a time of crisis, and honest living in a corrupt world, Louisville dark punk stalwarts Fotocrime’s new LP Security— out on March 13—  is rife with sentiments of paranoia and impending doom. But unlike post-punk greats Killing Joke, Fotocrime never go full conspiracy theorist or espouse theories on the alien civilizations that built ancient Egypt.  Security is very much influenced by Jaz Coleman & Co., and it serves as a celebration of that band’s musical output, alongside other recently passed heroes. “Killing Joke, Big Black, and Hot Snakes–these were all bands that all had musicians that passed away recently,” recalls Fotocrime frontman Ryan Patterson. “Geordie Walker, Steve Albini and Rick Froberg were all so crucial to my musical growth, so I wanted to put these influences forward and channel them as much as I could, as opposed to keeping them in my back pocket and letting them manifest in less obvious ways.”

On Security, Fotocrime eschews their previous approach for a more aggressive and furious tone, one that matches the aforementioned bands along with the man-vs-machine churn of Godflesh and middle period Ministry, the down-picking stylings of The Marked Men, and more. Historically a synth-forward band, these influences, which have been omnipresent in virtually all of Patterson’s previous work, come to the forefront to reveal a new era for the band. “The new album has some synth textures, but for Security we had a different sort of goal,” explains Patterson. “We recorded most of the music live, and what you’re hearing is primarily guitar, bass, and drum machine. So there are plenty of Soviet-era analog synths, but not anywhere near the amount that there has been with Fotocrime previously.”

Starting with a bowel-quaking bass kick that hits like a body blow, the first single “Plowjob” uses a white hot sawtooth bass synth to cut through an icy drumloop before matching that ferocity with a similarly brutish guitar line doubled on top. By the time the galloping riff has led you into the reverb-drenched chorus bolstered by the coarsely delicious vocals of Aaron Turner (Sumac), you’ve voluntarily committed to a second beating. The subject matter is similarly scathing— examining our world and the tyrannical man-children looking to control, and possibly destroy, an existence that doesn’t fit their narrow view.