In Kärrgruvan, Sweden, where Rattens Krater apparently come from, they call it “terrorpop”. You might coin a different name. Go ahead, knock yourself out…
Stylistically speaking, “Urrah!” is a game of Musical Twister: One limb is anchored on the hard rock colour, another is on electronic-punk. A third is planted on grunge-pop and the other is flailing about, threatening to land somewhere else, depending on what you’re second-guessing them to be doing.
How do you want their music to be? Are you good with deep, pulsing bass-lines, booming keys and gutter-level, post-punk (fuck I hate that term) guitar. There are impenetrable (to these ears) lyrics, sung in Swedish. Yes, I’m linguistically-challenged and they might be reciting the Gothenberg phone book for all I know, but they do sound apocalyptic.
There are distinct elements of Gang of Four, Kraftwerk and The Wipers at play in these 13 songs. Shades of Nunchukka Superfly, too. It’s as edgy as fuck, in so many places. These are songs for dancing – if you’re on extremely potent cough mixture.
Cock an ear to the abrasive “Hugormshalet” with its dense blanket of sound and kick back as “Pantal, Kaikad, Said” switches to tuneful garage-glam. “Silverkillern” grinds away like a psychedelic guitar buzzsaw; “United States” sounds like Eddie Cochran on glue.
There are at least four band members, maybe five. Search as you might, there isn’t a whole lot of information on-line about Rattens Krater. Their Facebook is no help. It’s full of badly-lit pictures of paunchy men in their underpants, and the odd animal skull.
“URRAH” is on vinyl and CD, exclusively through Aussie label Conquest of Noise. Here’s what the band said about that arrangement when their release was imminent:
At the beginning of 2017 will shit out. Gatefold on everything. It is the most perfect we achieved so far, it has a nice cover and it wants to hurt you.
“It wants to hurt you.” Even allowing for the vagaries of online translation tools, that’s poetry. Even the band’s name is a mindfuck. What’s a Ratten Krater? “The crater of the wheel”. It sounds like a place where road-kill hangs out.
