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“…we spent a long time getting the album to where we felt it was ready to come out…” – Brodie Maguire, Mother Vulture guitarist.
There must have been considerable pressure on fast-emerging UK upstarts Mother Vulture to release their debut album earlier this year while they were kicking in doors and taking names at festivals such as Call of The Wild, Steelhouse, and Bloodstock. But rather than rush it out half-cooked, the young four-piece waited until the material was just right for human consumption, and finally ‘Mother Knows Best’ is now out there for all the world to see what the fuss is all about. And it is a doozy. One of those albums that gets the blood pumping from the off and leaves the listener lying on the floor in a crumpled heap some thirty-four minutes later.
From the moment that drummer Matt West starts proceedings with an almost-tribal drum feel on opening track ‘Fame Or Shame’, and vocalist Georgi Valentine unleashes a guttural howl, the sense of anarchy is overwhelming. The rulebook is tossed on the fire. Featuring more twists and turns in the opening few minutes than anything Biffy Clyro have come up with in the last few years; heads will be scratched, brows will be furrowed, and gasts will be flabbered, because Mother Vulture breaks the mold of what a new UK modern rock band is supposed to sound like. If needs must, and a comparison has to be made, then maybe start with Faith No More? Mother Vulture – and Valentine in particular – show that same sense of dangerous unpredictability and anything-could-happen attitude that FNM had/have in abundance, and the only thing to expect is the unexpected. The adrenaline-filled ‘Monster Crunch’ quickly follows on with an almost-schizophrenic vocal performance from Valentine on an immediate track that is the aural equivalent of a short, sharp blow to the throat; the other-worldly vocals continue on the groove-filled ‘Honey’ which features some incredible guitar licks from Maguire, and on ‘Rabbit Hole’ the fat basslines from Chris Simpson rattle the senses like a pneumatic drill stuck on full throttle, and Valentine’s vocals run the whole gamut of styles and textures (his high-pitched range is perfect). And that’s just the opening eleven minutes.
Barely pausing for breath, ‘Big Bad’ starts like it’s going to embark on more of a blues-rock feel, but then it takes more of a frantic, sinister twist as the pace is ramped up and Valentine lets loose his gonzo vocals. Not knowing what to expect next, ‘Shifting Sands’ mixes it up with a hint of a Queens Of The Stone Age influence, although the trippy, laid-back breakdown mid-song comes completely out of the left field. The two-minute amphetamine-filled ‘Mr Jones’ is the perfect follow-up. Variety is the keyword here, and this continues on the sludgy, pounding ‘Not Yet’ which showcases the talents of the engine room pair of Chris Simpson and Matt West, and the softer vocals from Valentine on 02:30 minutes pack a Brian Molko-like vulnerability, the guitar solo from Brodie Maguire that follows on is towering and throw in some growls from Valentine towards the end and you have one hell of a mindfuck of a song. Ditto ‘Put Me Down’, some great pop-hooks throughout the opening few moments before all hell is unleashed as the band flexes their musical muscles from the midpoint onward. It’s the sign of a fantastic band when a song ends in an entirely different way than it started, and Mother Vulture has this down to a fine art.
Ending on the pulsating (and in some places quite commercial) ‘Homemaker’, this is as fresh and spontaneous a debut album as it gets. When the listener simply does not have a clue what is coming next, then you know that Mother Vulture have produced something worth shouting from the rooftops about.
Pick ‘Mother Knows Best’ up now, more information here.
Review – Dave
Photography Credit: https://www.facebook.com/shonacuttphotography
