Divorce are a forefront band of the modern hardcore scene in Glasgow, which has been slowly building over the last ten years or so, and has found itself embracing many experimental and avant-garde elements, making it one of the most exciting hubs for punk music in Britain today. Quite contained to a certain degree, it is very communal and is far more hard hitting, boundary pushing and ‘punk’ than most hardcore scenes around the world today. With labels like Winning Sperm Party, Methodist Leisure Inc. and Cry Parrot keeping the scene in high quality nights, and super cool releases, this DIY art movement has been Scotland’s best kept musical secret in modern times - a movement far too busy creating weird, loud, ugly and skin frying music to care if some twat from a straight edge band in Leeds would call them pretentious. Basically, they’re getting shit done, for the right reasons and with charm.
Divorce are one of the more high profile exports from the sect, a mish-mash-mess of drone, riot grrl, noise, metal, spazzcore and good ol’ fashion chug-a-chugcore. To give you a tighter image, just imagine what it would sound like if Crass had a fucked up blood baby with Bikini Kill and brought the beast up on Team Dresch, Black Flag, Sonic Youth and maybe Tool. Their self-titled debut is one mosh-trip-mosh epileptic fit after another, slathered in feedback and noise, almost drowning you under how inaccessible it is.
It is fair to note, from that, that you probably won't like this album on first, second, third or perhaps even forth listen. That doesn’t mean that this album isn’t for you. It means that your tolerance is still too high, lil’ cherub, and you have to fight through this, like a nightmare trip of visible noise and hallucinated clatters. And don’t get me wrong, there are many elements to chew-the-meat (if you will) and get yourself ‘down’ in the pit to, but this pit is full of feisty little demons that you’ll have to beat the fuck up to get past - kinda like the last Kerrang-twinged mosh pit you graced.
However, once you get into the heart of this album, there is a lot to be valued, because despite all the dissonance, feedback and ear-shredding noise, you realise the true brilliance of a band like this - this is actually a band pushing boundaries. This is violent riot grrl queercore punk for the modern generation - none of this is at all nice or pretty - it isn’t ‘gay’, it isn’t camp and it isn’t faggy - this is LGBTQ punk music that demonstrates its self-activism and proves its formidablity, far more than Lady Gaga ever thought she did. This is violent, it is loud, it is obnoxious and it is ugly. This is exactly what the cunts that still have a problem with queer society don’t want to take seriously, and are being fucking made to.