Unwound - Fake Train (Album Review)

 

Unwound - Fake Train

(1993)

My copy: 2017 reissue by Numero Group.

After deciding to shelf what was intended to be their full-length debut, Washington’s Unwound traded Brandt Sandeno on drums for Sara Lund, who would help the band define their unique take on post-hardcore for years to come. What came as a result of this new lineup would be a much more bombastic effort in Fake Train, which dilutes typical hardcore chugging with psychotic forays into noise and indie-rock.

The mid-tempo, swaying syncopation of “Dragnalus” is a perfect introductory statement with wheezing feedback choking around Justin Trosper’s passionately unsatisfied vocal cracks. This album is also solid proof of Vern Rumsey’s genius ear for bass melody. “Lucky Acid” packs a lifetime of density and fury into a short frenzy of squealing guitars and dynamic rhythmic blasts before “Nervous Energy” instills tension with anticipatory harmonics, paying off into hardcore breakdowns. 

Then comes a true masterpiece of the band’s early career, in the form of a three-track saga composed of “Valentine Card,” “Kantina” and “Were, Are And Was Or Is.” “Valentine Card” starts out with a snotty attitude and stupefying bass riffs that are unrelenting in their power. “Kantina” eases up a bit, falling back to passages of mystifying harmonic tremolo that bats against emotional cries. The music flows smoothly into the repeated, melancholy chords of “Were, Are And Was Or Is” which, while simple on the surface, is one of the most intoxicating noise-buildups in the genre (undoubtedly influenced by Sonic Youth or no-wave in general). After falling into a pit of euphoric feedback, “Honourosis” resets the pacing with a mournful dirge for distorted tremolo guitar.

“Pure Pain Sugar” engages in typical hardcore riffing and is less interesting in the face of “Gravity Slips” which is clearly influenced by the thrash metal of the 80s, trading technical proficiency for insertion of warped vocals and psychedelic moments. “Star Spangled Hell” builds and rains vitriol between drum fills, eventually giving in to subtle dissonance before restarting the loop. The sloppy, sliding crescendos and amp flicker of “Ratbite” matches what is one of Trosper’s more convincing hardcore performances. At last, “Feeling$ Real” manages to capture and dispense the purest auditory example of mental dissociation and social dissatisfaction via slow, cathartic hooks that flare up into blistering rallying cries. 

Fake Train is certainly Unwound at their rawest - for better and for worse. The production and writing are fairly weak, though the latter is made up for in spades with passion. The actual sound of the record is not nearly as full as it could be; not that it should necessarily be hi-fi, but a few notches up would improve the experience immeasurably. Although Sara Lund has retroactively noted her disapproval of her performances here, much of Fake Train is impressively delivered, arguably with the sloppiness making the aggressive tone even more convincing. While Fake Train is still a ways away from perfection, it is indeed one of the truest and most honest expressions of angst out of any post-hardecore - it is not overly melodic or snappy, instead feeling fittingly crusty and explosive when needed, with just the right amount of emotional reflection sprinkled in.