I write as a listener and concerned citizen. It's 2013, the legends of dad rock are facing the death squad: no liquids, no solids, no chance, baby. There's something dead in the water and a new breed is feeding on the remains. Welcome to Deathcore, Screamo, Metalcore, whatever.
Asking Alexandria come from Yorkshire. They're on their third album, on the Sumerian label (got to love the name), and the lynchpins are guitarist Ben Bruce and singer Danny Worsnop. They rock like men on three legs – crunching, stop-start, arhythmic, stuttering guitar riffs that sound as if they sprouted out of the cartilage of Beefheart's Magic Band in a pile-up with 1980s Metal heroes: Metallica, Guns N' Roses, Motley Crue. It's refreshing like an enema.
While touring last year, Worsnop tore his vocal chords, and on any of the 13 (it has to be 13) tracks here, you'll hear why; ripping his throat out is an occupational hazard. It would be good to hear him go larynx-to-larynx with a Tuvan throat singer. The set does include quieter moments - synthesised strings, ballad-style vocals - and Bruce has said the album is "a lot more mature than anything we've done before - it's not so much about partying and fucking random girls and doing drugs and stuff”, but still, it's morbid and fucked up, and the cover art has a naked chick writhing inside a vending machine backstage and a hunched, hoodied figure heading for the front-of-house.
OK, I confess I'm almost 50 and turning mouldy at the crust, and I can't stand the music for long, but I can tell it's good. Asking Alexandria has a big following among teenagers who hate 1D, kiddie rap, and all that shit pop conjured up by middle-aged lags on industrial estate proportions. This is one new sound that's alive and kicking the can. Go figure it out for yourself.