January 17th, 2013 
Grace Duffy 
Artist: The Bronx
Album: IV
Genre: Hardcore/Punk
Label: White Drugs
I’m tempted to write that it’s business as usual here for The Bronx, but doing so feels like a disservice. The simply-titled IV (as in, their fourth eponymous album) is a model of cast-iron efficiency, utilising all the toughness and relish and jarring qualities that permeate their work, and yet it’s something more elegant and refined than that description might imply. IV is easily good enough to count among the punk stalwarts of the new year but it has a light and, at times, tender touch that gives it a much broader appeal. The strength of the band lies in their nuanced delivery, as even within the most deadpan of songs and acidic of chords they manage to conceal traces of emotive depth and beauty. This is never overt enough to distract from the album’s billing as a solidly enjoyable punk listen, but it does provide some thought-provoking moments for the more discerning fan.
IV is stocky and overcast at times, delighting in its laconic and devil-may-care approach, while at others it is considerably more hesitant and thoughtful. It mixes its songs well so that neither vibe ever becomes too ingrained. The first few tracks are crisp and cool, their rambunctious guitars providing an uproarious sense of fun. “The Unholy Hand” is fabulously acidic, grating under the weight of Matt Caughthran’s raspy, corrosive vocals. It has the air of something casually thrown together in a basement, its deliberately lo-fi, grainy sound adding immeasurably to the appeal. There’s a sense of something raw and bloody and furious but the tempo is kept at an even keel, making it energetic as opposed to fraught. “Along for the Ride” is less confrontational – raucous and surging as its predecessor, but with a more easygoing touch. There’s a frivolous and light-hearted voice at its centre, strained through shades of intensive metallic grey. “Style over Everything” is the first to adopt a more serious tone. It has a distinct sense of occasion, with harmonies and solos embellishing the music considerably and distinguishing it from the more straightforward execution of the previous songs. It comes across as rugged and pitchy, with a grim truth to its vocals.
Subtleties such as this add much by way of depth to IV. Rather than limber from one riotous anthem to another, the band create a murky silhouette for the album. It shadows the more predictable punk irreverence and makes it soul-searching. “Torches” is powerful in its restraint. The guitars diverge, with one adopting a slower, vacant, reflective pose while the other meanders in and out intermittently. When they come together in a chorus of sorts, they play the same rigid, uniform notes and hint at a routine, clinical frustration. “Valley Heat” flits from genial to bumbling, shuffling portentous guitar notes for devil-may-care disenchantment. The mundane clarity of these tracks is striking, almost like garage poetry. “Life Less Ordinary” is jaded, sharp as a razor’s edge, and pointed. It’s a slower number and makes ample use of its opportunity for broody intensity. The guitars smoulder moodily in the background, blunt and caustic and somehow more brutal than when they’re going all out. They sound almost like a defence mechanism for the wounded vocals, hovering protectively and ready to strike at any moment. This song would stand out for the sheer departure in sound but it is completely absorbing and makes a thorough impact on its own, such is the depth of its abandonment and malevolence.
Interspersed between these numbers are more characteristic offerings. “Too Many Devils” is tongue-in-cheek, its aggression laced with a kind of coolness and pomp. It has the same rough texture as the others and yet a sense of controlled chaos. This erupts in “Under the Rabbit,” which is decidedly unhinged and delightfully vivid and alive. “Last Revelation” ends the record on a more jovial note, with traces of excitement and eagerness. It is testament to the band’s skill that they’re able to mix such rogue charm into songs that sound so basic and simple, affording them real character in spite of their raw production.
IV is an excellent addition to The Bronx’s catalogue. Considering its short length (about 35 minutes of running time), it’s quite stunning how much character and nuance it manages to bring to its songs. It’s an engrossing and frenetic listen that ought to please both existing fans and newcomers to the fold.
SCORE: 9/10
Review written by Grace Duffy
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