HD Leaked Album The Drums Brutalism Download

The Drums released the critically acclaimed “Abysmal Thoughts” in 2017, marking the band’s first release as a solo project from Jonny Pierce.

Now, two years later, The Drums announces its tremendous, self-care focused fifth LP and a North American tour in support of the album. Quite possibly the best collection of songs in the band's ten-year career, Brutalism, co-produced by Pierce, will be released on April 5th via ANTI-.

Tracks:

1 Pretty Cloud
2 Body Chemistry
3 626 Bedford Ave
4 Brutalism
5 Loner
6 I Wanna Go Back
7 Kiss It Away
8 Nervous
9 Blip of Joy


Like Jonny Pierce, Brutalism is a bicoastal record - written and recorded between Upstate New York and a studio in Stinson Beach. Following a painful divorce and an incredibly difficult stint living solely in Los Angeles, Pierce decided it was time to face his demons, and the making of this record is a part of that process. “I was exhausted, depleted and sabotaging myself, partying so much but in reality running away from pain. It was a downward spiral.” Pierce knew it was time to go to therapy, and begin to reckon with his depression. “It was do or die,” he says. While he focused on his mental health, the making of Brutalism became an extension of self-care for Pierce, and makes for some of his most honest and relatable music to date.

On Brutalism, a lot is different. The album is defined by growth, transformation and questions, but it doesn't provide all the answers. It’s rooted in an emotional rawness, but its layers are soft, intricate and warm, full of exquisitely crafted pop songs that blast sunlight and high energy in the face of anxiety, solitude and crippling self-doubt. Pierce's decision to prioritize his own health and wellbeing clearly bled into how he crafted this record. He was more open than ever, keeping his control freakery at bay, working with others to produce and record the album. He brought in Chris Coady (Beach House, Future Islands, Amen Dunes) to mix it. If there was a guitar part he wanted to write but couldn't play, he brought in a guitarist. It's also the first Drums record with a live drummer. Delegating freed up Pierce's time to produce a more specific vision.

Brutalism is truly pop at its core, with thoroughly modern production and Pierce’s newfound tenderness. Back in The Drums' previous iterations, the pressure was on Pierce to maintain the innocent and nostalgic sound of this surf-pop indie band and it didn't allow him to explore sex, drug use, darker emotions or how he felt currently. “Abysmal Thoughts” was the first occasion he had chance to do that. Lyrically Brutalism is another giant step in that direction, and is defined by vulnerability. That's why you can dance to Brutalism, you can cry to Brutalism, and you can laugh to it too.

The past year has been transformative Pierce, who may a permanent rain cloud above his head but is working towards a better, healthier headspace. “I don't think I'll ever really find myself,” he says. “I don't think people do. I don't think there's a day that you wake up and you go, Now I know who I am. The best way for me to be an artist is by taking a goddamn minute, being still and listening to what it is that I want and need.” It was a real year of growth for him, but growth towards what? “I don't really know, and that's OK.”

Brutalism is an album as petty as a suburban grudge and as cruel as a college prank. Frontman and last-man-standing Jonny Pierce has abandoned all pretense of the Morrissey-esque cleverness that let him get away with otherwise insulting lyrics on Abysmal Thoughts to make an album that is unrelentingly unpleasant.

We can all appreciate a fuck-off to a bad fuck, but the folky, painfully catchy “626 Bedford Avenue” (or as he petulantly refers to it in the second verse, “626 Stupid Avenue,”) comes off as near bunny-boiling levels of entitled vitriol. “Baby, let’s have a conversation/and God forbid we have a connection” sounds like someone yells at you when you decline to take their phone number on the subway.
But it doesn’t stop there. The title track’s “Baby by now, you must know/that this love is brutal” might have seemed romantic a while ago, but the promise that he’s going to “bet (my) life on one kiss” is how you wind up with him standing outside your house on Bedford Avenue screaming at you. It’s a shame, because the song has a delightfully pop-emo sound, but the effect Pierce accidentally creates by pairing these side-by-side is almost laughable.
The opening track “Pretty Cloud” does fascinating things, lyrically, with the cloud metaphor, but like a low-pressure system, the music that accompanies it is migraine-inducing, a seemingly random assortment of samples, never coming together in a cohesive unit. Pierce is capable of layering complex layers of sound like a rich trifle, but here, everything has been stripped bare, leaving just a handful of the ringtones that come standard on a Motorola Razr.
The lead single “Body Chemistry” is a wise choice, a bright splash of sincerity, an anthem for anxious times and an anxious life. It’s the sort of bite-off-and-savor taste that The Drums do so well. But sadly, it’s not indicative of what else is on the album. Not everything has to be pure pop, but nothing else on Brutalism even comes close to sounding like a complete song the way this one does.

“Kiss It Away” cribs a discount Johnny Marr riff and pairs it with messy drums and a vocal track that feels like it’s running slightly faster than the rest of the melody. “Blip of Joy” is a similar mess, with a melody line that feels like the caffeine shakes, hyperactive and unable to land on a focus point.
“Nervous” does something different, a standard ambling break-up song, perfect, I guess, for singing in the college quad at twilight as a means of attempting to appear interesting and deep. It’s the only track of that ilk on the album and as such, almost feels out of place, like the person who shows up at a fancy party in jeans. Not completely unwelcome, but doesn’t fit in.
If you want to recreate Brutalism, turn on the menu screen of any Sega Genesis game from 1992 and read aloud your angriest poem from high school. It’s catchy in places, sure, but so are bedbugs.