dusted

This third album from FACS punches up dank drones with antic drumming, giving morose, dystopian grooves an undeniable mobility. As in previous outings, the Chicago-based post-punk outfit balances Brian Case’s echo-saturated, overtone-haunted guitar parts with Noah Leger’s hard-socked syncopations. Since Negative Houses, Alianna Kalaba (Cat Power’s drummer) has come in on bass, giving these cuts a tactile heft that they didn’t have before. Void Moments is better and more exciting than previous albums.  

Jon Congleton mixed the album with his customary precision, giving even the slowest, trudgiest songs the gleam of well-oiled clarity. FACS’ sound relies on sympathetic vibration to lend a shimmering density; yet here, even as clouds of overtones roil in turbulent dissonance, you can hear all the elements — guitar, drums, bass, words — thrown up in sharp relief. “Teenage Hive,” the single, carves a slow, worrisome post-rock melody in guitar and knocks it sideways with limber, all-over-the-kit drumming. The guitar bends towards sweetness about a minute in, though not at the expense of urgency. The motorik drive of the cut might put you in mind of the late, much lamented Psychic Paramount.

Kalaba’s bass has an effect even when it’s not foregrounded. The whole of Void Moments drives harder and heavier than Negative Houses did, partly because of the low end subliminal roar. But if you want to hear her outright, check “Void Walker,” where the buzz of bass undergirds chiming, luminous stabs of guitar, putting its muscle into the groove and driving it forward.

Much of this album works in turmoil, yet even its serenity has a dire, disturbing undercurrent. Long, lyrical “Dub Over,” haunts and soothes at the same time, the liquid clarity of its mix allowing you see right through waves and auras of guitar sound to the slow blossom of bass notes, the sudden pock-shots of percussion at its bottom. You may feel a sense of floating over chilly, limitless depths.

Void Moments represents a significant advance over 2018’s Negative Houses, of which I observed that “FACs clanks through haunted technological spaces, the scree of effected guitar shining a klieg light on moist, abandoned underground corridors.” The space is still thick with ghosts and luminous with dread, but the music moves with new purpose and focus.

Jennifer Kelly