Review: Cowards ‘God Hates Cowards’
The slow, dark, heavy and at times shoegaze musical storm that pervades the nine tracks of God Hates Cowards, the ‘real’ debut album by noise-rock power trio Cowards from Recanati, Marche, Italy, is a seething manifestation of anger, resentment, anxiety, hatred and utter contempt for everything around them and perhaps beyond.
This menacing sonic storm unfolds gradually, with each dissonant chord, screeching riff and pounding drumbeat adding to the boiling cauldron of rage and alienation that defines the band’s uncompromising sound. Fuelled by the pioneering sonics of bands that defined the genre they grew up with, the band channels those influences into their unique way of displaying their aural brutality, pushing the boundaries of heaviness and extremism in their own unique way.
The power trio’s journey began in the 1990s, playing together and honing their musical chemistry. But it wasn’t until 2019 that they really found their stride and committed to pursuing their artistic vision with unwavering dedication. During those happy days, the trio threw themselves completely into their craft, determined to create something special. They entered the studio with their original drummer, Peppe Carella, to record their self-titled debut album, a labour of love that captured the essence of their musical bond. However, tragedy struck in 2021 when Peppe passed away unexpectedly, leaving the band reeling from the devastating loss.
The posthumous release of their self-titled album in 2022 via the Recanati-based Araghost Records was a bittersweet tribute to their late brother. The two remaining members found themselves shrouded in a fog of grief and uncertainty. They retreated into themselves, unsure if they could have continued without Peppe‘s driving rhythm and infectious spirit. Time passed slowly as they struggled with the emptiness left behind, wondering if the music would ever flow the same way again.
But as the clouds began to part, a glimmer of hope emerged in the form of Michele Prosperi, a talented drummer who understood the delicate balance between honouring the past and pushing the band forward. With Michele‘s infectious energy and undeniable talent, the power trio found the courage to pick up the pieces and continue their musical journey, determined to keep Peppe‘s memory alive through the power of their music.
As one immerses themselves in the sonic landscape of this album, track by haunting track, a sense of familiarity begins to take hold, as if the sounds themselves were echoes of a not-too-distant past. The opening song, I Hate You, seems to channel the raw, unbridled energy of Steve Albini’s production, evoking memories of Sonic Youth’s seminal Touch Me, I’m Sick. It is here, in the anguished cries of dissatisfaction that reverberate throughout, that the very essence of the album’s title is captured – a genuine, unfiltered expression of deep-seated frustration and disillusionment with the world at large.
Cowards have created a dark but undeniably compelling soundtrack to the anguish, alienation and existential terror of our modern age…
From there, we are swept into the slow, swirling vortex of Storm, a track that, while offering little in the way of overt complaint, nonetheless drags one through a tempest of Swervedriver-esque emotions. Yet even as one attempts to distance themselves from life’s harsh realities and painful truths, it becomes clear that this is a futile endeavour – for in doing so, we subject our very souls to the relentless torment of memories, those spectral fragments of the past that offer scant comfort to the troubled spirit.
It is a self-inflicted wound upon the psyche, this act of running from the truth, as the loud, cathartic strains of Stay Away so powerfully suggest. With Dystopian City, the furies of hell itself are unleashed in a maelstrom of trashy guitar and pounding drums, as Luca Piccinini and Giulia Tanoni engage in a vocal exchange reminiscent of the gentle interlocutions between Thurston Moore and Kim Gordon.
Their mastery of guitar dissonance and scorching, cathartic noise is on full display on Barefoot Walking In My Head, a track of blasphemous beauty. By the time we reach About A Friend, the soul has become a haunted vessel, forever pursued by the spectres of unresolved pain and unaddressed demons. Ultimately, the path to true peace and liberation lies not in denying the truth, but in facing it head-on with unflinching courage, no matter how daunting it may be.
The album’s final track, Scream!, is a barbed-wire creation that harkens back to the golden days of the Reed brothers’ sonic alchemy. Beneath the swirling vortex of distortion and feedback lies a palpable sense of unease, of impending doom, as if the band were channelling all the pent-up negativity, despair, and malaise of a lost generation and unleashing it in a cathartic explosion of pure sound and primal fury. Yet even amidst the relentless chaos and cacophony, there are fleeting moments of eerie calm, of haunting melody, hinting at a deeper vulnerability and a twisted beauty that lurks within the all-consuming darkness.
In the end, this is music as primal scream therapy, a sonic exorcism of inner demons and societal ills, delivered with a raw, unvarnished power and unwavering intensity that is as captivating as it is deeply unsettling. In the end, Cowards have created a dark but undeniably compelling soundtrack to the anguish, alienation and existential terror of our modern age, one caustic riff drenched in noise at a time.
Label: Bloody Sound
Band Links: Facebook | Bandcamp | Spotify | Instagram
Scribed by: Domenico ‘Mimmo’ Caccamo
