Heavy Days was the first instalment of Jeff the Brotherhood’s spiritual trilogy, followed by We Are the Champions a couple after that. Five years later comes the concluding chapter, Zone.
The album opens in ominous style: a thundering beat, a heavy slacker vocal like Pavement on a diet of Quaaludes. “I’m totally dead, I’m totally cool.” Everything’s just right, even if nothing’s happening. And then it breaks with the Sonic Youth-ish Energy, but it’s not quite in gear; the tempo drops off and we’re stuck in a field staring into the sky waiting for direction. The void’s filled with the meat-and-potatoes electro-spiked garage rocker Punishment, iced with the Meanied riffage of Juice and dumped on with the pissed off attitude of Idiot.
The next step in the journey comes with Ox, a lost demo from some polluted, sharp filled waterway in a shitty Pacific north west town. Bad is equal parts cathartic and celebratory; Habit hangs off a simple, repeated riff, arguably the best melodic metaphor for narcotic obsession since The Velvet Underground’s Heroin. Toasted is intense in a Sabbath sort of way, and shit’s getting too heavy to ignore, but it’s walk in the park compared to the Ministry-like psychosis of You.
Finally there’s Portugal, a mash-up of sparse strumming bruising licks and introspective musings about life on the road and its attendant psychological damage. If you’re ever going to hit the wall on tour, Portugal’s where shit’s going to get fucked up.
Zone doesn’t give you all the answers to life’s questions, but it sure helps you see the light.
BY PATRICK EMERY
