Release Date: Oct 26, 2018
Record label: Ipecac
Genre(s): Pop/Rock, Alternative/Indie Rock, Noise-Rock
Noise-rock luminaries Daughters have a somewhat choppy history. While musically they've always delivered, along the way there have been personal bust-ups between members that essentially broke up the band. Prior to their dissolution, they had completed their third record (which was released post-breakup in 2010) and that well received self-titled release, to all intents and purposes, should have been the last we heard of them.
The Lowdown: Eight years after their last release, post-hardcore experimentalists Daughters return with an LP that deconstructs their sound and reanimates it into a whole new sonic monster. Building off the groove and melody that informed their self-titled 2010 album, the four-piece expands and darkens the tonality, utilizing guitar effects and keyboards that sound even more alien than before. Groove remains a common element, but many tracks eclipse five minutes with moderate tempos, minimalist industrial instrumentation, and punishing drum work.
You know how life goes: One day you're making songs like "The Fuck Whisperer," selling hideous yellow shirts with a vagina-bat flying above your band's name, and sleeping on your ex-girlfriend's couch just to spite her current boyfriend. Years go by, and suddenly everyone's getting married and having kids; after all the actual blood, piss, and sweat that went into mocking indie culture and convention, your friends have somehow become craft brewers and commercial-music writers. Rhode Island hardcore misanthropes Daughters never seemed the sort of band compatible with the demands of adulthood.
Don't take it personally, but Daughters really want you to hurt. Eight years after the Rhode Island outfit's self-titled album appeared to be the end of an impressive but relatively brief career that started in grindcore and concluded in Jesus Lizard-worship noise rock, Daughters are back and they're not going through the motions; they're going through a lot. The title alone of their vicious assault of a comeback album, You Won't Get What You Want, sends a sharp warning to fans: They aren't here to appease you.