Somewhere amidst the anarchy of Pugnello, there are gems waiting to be found. Unearthing them is well worth your time.
It’s nearly been a whole decade since this ferocious Irish quartet unleashed their uniquely unhinged, undefinable sound in our direction. Pugnello is Gilla Band’s fourth foray into … well, whatever this specific subgenre is. Labels such as ‘noise rock’ or ‘post-punk’ once gave new listeners an adequate idea of what to expect from the act.
That’s no longer the case with Pugnello. It’s a 42-minute free fall, the result of the members reuniting after focusing on their own individual projects after the release of 2022’s Most Normal. Pugnello is an explosion that’s been steadily building over a four-year recording period, though you might imagine it’s the child of a single frenzied recording session.
It’s so berserk that it’s hard to quantify, leaving me with an ever-shrinking list of superfluous terms to articulate the noise. It’s not quite noise rock, not quite post-punk. Before you know it, the album is influencing you to follow its own stream of consciousness.
Let’s get specific. The first three tracks here are less of a one-two punch and more a repeated series of hits to the head with a blunt object. ‘The Angelus’ makes for a head-shattering first impression, as bold in its vision as it is blunt in its delivery. That wavering opening note builds in waves, creating an almost tangible sense of unease that throws you into despair by the track’s halfway point. Gilla Band lash out here, and they never really settle down over the next 40 minutes.
‘Placeholder’ offers a sense of normality by Gilla Band’s standards. Jarring electronica and derangement that ebbs and flows. The drums become a disorientating stutter, with echoing vocals that defy comprehension. We go from cheeky childish lyrics to a particularly morbid piece of prose. Take it out of the context of the album, and it’s a gritty darkpop banger you’d expect to be played in a club you’d never be allowed in.
At this point, Gilla Band know how to unsettle you. Each track here feels like an experiment: when do you stop listening because the boundaries you’re accustomed to are too far behind you? To make sure you’re fully invested, ‘Alogia’ is positioned on the tipping point. It’s the soundtrack of a breakdown; a brutally introspective look at Kiely’s schizophrenia diagnosis according to a Stereogum interview.
Among the confusion, ‘Jacobson’ immensely benefits from a shred of order: a crumb of sense in an otherwise intentionally obscure soundtrack. We’re teased with a crescendo multiple times, but that doesn’t deprive the track of catharsis when it arrives. The faint shadow of a chorus is one of the few parts that you could call a ‘hook’ that sticks with you.
That’s until you get to ‘The Megazord’. You might not expect coherence from a track with this title, but there’s a chorus and even a reprieve. Structure! Naturally, the lyrics here do still dance around mania. It’s like Kiely had a particularly nasty illness as a child, and this track is the result of him being stuck in front of daytime television in a lucid state: there’s talk of socks for Christmas, Tamagotchis, and pissing the bed at a sleepover.
Now Pugnello has tested your patience and you begin interpreting Gilla Band’s warped logic as the norm, you might just have a chance of getting through the LP with your sanity intact. You may find yourself lapping up the album’s more traditional structural elements. The aptly named ‘Computer Sadness’ gives us a refreshing slice of heart-crushing sense of malaise rather than unadulterated anger, while ‘Giraffe’ is the closest we get to post-punk.
The lead single’s steady, imposing bassline and driving drums are an apt platform, as Kiely’s overwhelming vocals are restrained, slightly, into some spoken word. But as always, it inevitably devolves into noise and confusion.
Just like that, ‘At the Gallop’ is here, its thick keys and modulated, monotone vocals beckon in a breakdown that teases the heaviest piece of music on the album. Final boss music, in a nutshell, proving that the band are masters of building tension and releasing it in a mind-bending explosion. It’s a big finish that does not disappoint, but still left me wanting more.
Pugnello forced me to collect my thoughts with patience, because it’s infinitely curious. In a world where acts get noticed by escalating their sound through new levels of ferocity or surprising listeners with an unsighted stylistic turn, Gilla Band manage to toe a juxtaposing line. Pugnello explores new realms of originality and carnage, but also wields that same chaos with pride, as the act has done for around a decade now.
It’s all refreshingly new, but strangely familiar too. My only warning, if you’re a prospective listener, would be that 42 minutes of unabridged pandemonium might leave you feeling your ears were bigger than your stomach.
I’d draw comparisons to post-punk primers, but Pugnello is more of a statement. It’s fierce. It’s intense. It’s a frightening exploration into what the band can do, and what we can comfortably digest as fans of music. And though it can be a love/hate relationship at times, it’s always captivating.