It’s been a while since an album—one you could throw under the growing umbrella of “punk”—has stuck with me, constantly screaming for frequent revisits. A year ago it was Fontaine D.C.’s Skinty Fia, but I admit some of those songs have gotten a little stale for me as of late, so I was elated once I heard Real Farmer’s Compare What’s There, front-to-back. It became my new monster.
This scrappy release, from the Dutch twisting garage punks from Groningen, is pure noisey fire—the kind of album you throw on when you’re looking to bust through the metaphorical walls of concrete plaguing your mind, or literal walls of concrete. Seriously, if you have a job turning skyscrapers into dust and debris with a wrecking ball, this is your album. Loud, buzzing frenetic guitars, fierce lyrics about alienation, societal fuck-ups from the blue-collar perspective, and social distrust, thundering drum fills, and catchy, fuzzy bass lines—this album has it all.
Some tracks, like “The Feeding” are good ol’ straightforward punk, maybe with a few more chords, in the vein of bands like MC5 or Black Flag, but then we have these droney, discordant atmospheric, No-wave numbers like “Empty.” It’s this juxtaposition that makes Compare What’s There a thrilling listen. You can listen to it on autopilot, or decide to get sucked into the moments of fantastic musicianship. The first few seconds of guitar during “Gentrified” sound like they were recorded in a shoe box full of holes, and then the full mix kicks in, and wobbly, abrupt, madness ensues. The bass keeps that same reverberating madness at bay on “I Can’t Run.” All of these songs feel justifiably monolithic and it’s because Real Farmer knows when to give certain riffs space and time to breathe, as with “Wayside,” or when to crank up the distortion or flip on the experimental switch.
Keeping the flow going is lead singer Jeroen Klootsema, whose vocals are absolutely ferocious on songs like “Perry Boys,” and “The Straightest Line,” but also quite reserved on the quieter parts of “Inner City.” He’s also backed up by bassist, Marrit Meinema, who has a softer more post-dream pop touch, but my god, does their call-and-answer style work on a song like “Next In,” which has a jumpy weirdo post-punk quality like something you’d hear The Slits. I’m not sure if Real Farmer had any of these discussions about influences, but this album’s comparisons are all over the place, hopping from the different eras of punk and just generally heavy guitar music, and it’s glorious. Back to “The Straightest Line,” I’ve had this song in my head for the last few months after hearing that aggressive chorus once—no word of a lie on that. Klootsema is a force to be reckoned with on this track. I can easily see him becoming one of the next punk vocals heroes up there with singers like Joe Talbot, Grian Chatten, or Amy Taylor.
What else to say of Real Farmer’s debut? That post-rockish outro on “Consequence” is liquid gold, the repeating guitar becoming more mystifying as it continues into the dark. I tried to find something that could have been better on this debut from Real Farmer, but I’m at a loss. The closest I could think of is “Wasted Words,” a great atmospheric burn, but the slow-downer shoegaze psych vibe kind of took me out of the full album’s mayhem. Maybe they could have had it earlier, but honestly, that’s reaching for criticism. “Never Enough” is still the perfect closer, bouncing between the methodical ethereal rock realm towards the more arcane, raw punk energy, found during 80 percent of Compare What’s There. Real Farmer crushed it with Compare What’s There and I have no doubt their next will be just as vicious.
