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Time flies when you’re having none! DRILL’S first and last LP, Permanent, listens like a many sided die. The intrepid trio wired in eight songs, recorded live in two days by Lucas Knapp out of a basement in Philly.
Seems the band really took that one Pink Floyd song to heart - instead of fading away, they’re slamming a resignation notice on your desk and then promptly setting fire to the building.
With Permanent, DRILL has issued a decisively freaky last missive that pans from artful noise pop to dialed in hardcore punk.
No matter which number you land on, any roll of the die takes you on a different musical path. DRILL’s last hurrah is one you can listen to over and over again. “Eggs for Now” is a sad pop song wrapped up in a spiky synthy bow, replete with an introspective lilting bass melody that weaves throughout the song. Then there’s “Pipsqueak,” set in the Brooklyn blackout of 2005 - a jaunty song that is a game of hide and seek and hide again. Ryser’s vocals add a perfect fifth layer, and much like her basslines, tie the whole thing together with effortless finesse.
Though the album is titled Permanent, everything about it is about a series of goodbyes. Ultimately, even the insert instructs you not to be too precious with it: it contains instructions which direct you to fold the insert into a boat and sail it away. Cheeky as always, the band says goodbye in the only way they know how – the last line of it reads: Remember: Nothing is permanent.
Our take: I was a big fan of the first cassette from Philadelphia’s Drill, and while I was anticipating Permanent, I’m sad to hear that it’s a posthumous release as the band has broken up. I know it’s hard to generate excitement for a new record by a defunct band, but fuck… Permanent is so killer! While much of Drill’s music lies on the arty, bass-forward end of the post-punk spectrum and might warrant comparisons to contemporary bands like Spread Joy, the World, and Fitness Womxn, you really can’t pigeonhole their sound. First of all, the band’s setup—drums, bass, and synth—immediately separates them from other similar groups, particularly since the synth player approaches the instrument more as a noisemaker than a deliverer of melody. While the bass establishes the songs’ chord progressions and core instrumental melodies, most of the time the synth bursts in with these harsh squalls that lend an air of arty chaos. While the synth sounds are abrasive, Drill’s great songwriting and willingness to inhabit different musical moods makes me think of the best 90s indie rock bands. I compared them to early Pavement when I wrote about their tape, but the band that comes to mind when I listen to Permanent is the Breeders, particularly the bouncy, vaguely hip-hop-ish gait of “Pipsqueak” and the brilliant “Eggs for Now,” a five-minute long amble whose loping groove makes me think of a sun-drenched cowboy clip-clopping his way across the desert while tripping on acid. Other highlights include “Gavin,” the one track with guitar, which plays a rockabilly-tinged riff that makes me think of Brix’s stint in the Fall, and “Sweat,” whose extra funky groove and over the top vocals warrant comparisons to Suburban Lawns. Permanent is just a great fucking record from beginning to end, and Abandon Everything Records even pressed up a small batch on a special color vinyl for Sorry State’s customers, so pick it up while you can.