Three, Two, One; numbers not only representing the names of a few of their songs, but also the countdown to their gut dropping aural assault. From the off, ¡Forward, Russia! not only jump out of the starting blocks, but it is done in such a way that you are left wondering if the mains had been hooked up to their genitalia!
Post-modern music for the post-modernist, ¡Forward, Russia! fill the obscurity gap that the defunct At The Drive-In left; angular, aggressive, incoherent and most importantly, enjoyable. There is no set format to their songs, yet they all seems to come together in a rather ubiquitous and cascading manner; the guitar distorts, the bass rumbles, and the drums pounds out the sound track to adversity. Throw in a healthy amount of psychedelic synthesisers and shrill vocals that make you question if lead screamer, Tom, is one vocal spasm away from taking his lungs home in either a paper or plastic bag, and you have quite a passionate and exciting live performance on your hands (or in a bag).
All-this-and-songs-to-boot, they have more stability than their communist moniker may suggest. From the militant stomp of Nine, to Eleven: the sound of Radio 4 having their electro and disco-daylights being kicked out of them in an impenitent stop-start manner, to the more radio “friendly” (and due to be released) Twelve.
They have not so much reinvented the wheel, but taken said item and riotously defaced it for our pleasure. Enjoy.