Savages - Silence Yourself

I suppose it would be slightly sexist of me to assume that because Savages are an all-female band I can take this opportunity to express disappointment in the face of universal praise for the similarly all-woman Warpaint. Not sure why I even needed to say that. Perhaps the fact that entirely female acts performing punk music remains such a novelty that such bands get hype and distinction by default. On closer inspection, though, Savages' hype stems from reverential praise of live performances, and a rather nostalgia-fueled response to their ideas of manifestoes and attitude.

With faces that would befit a government's advice leaflet on post-traumatic stress disorder for their album cover, and an all-capital letter inclusion on the left that states "IF THE WORLD WOULD SHUT UP/ EVEN FOR A WHILE/ PERHAPS/ WE WOULD START HEARING/ THE DISTANT RHYTHM/ OF AN ANGRY YOUNG TUNE". So it's pretty safe to say this is an angry record.

Savages get the ball rolling with a feisty, tense 'Shut Up', complete with bizarre spoken intro. "The world's a dead, sorry hole", Jehnny Beth announces, but the real mastery at work here is courtesy of Ayse Hassan's gorgeous basswork. Beth grows in perfect sync with the backing's mood, and it's a brilliant opener. Throughout Silence Yourself they quite forcefully get their points across, but sometimes there's nothing else to say than the simple 'I Am Here', a rather gothic plea for attention that smashes through riffs like glass walls. More often than not, though, the scorn is aimed at others: on 'City's Full', Beth complains of "sissy pretty love" and instead takes delight in aesthetic imperfection ("I love the stretch marks on your thighs/ I love the wrinkles round your eyes"). The band take a little detour from the more generic punk structure on 'Strife', a pretty, swaggering cacophony of scratches, distortion and psychedelic influences.

To some, Jehnny Beth's vocals, perhaps aided by the repetitions in her lyrics, will grate. 'Waiting for a Sign' is not such a moment; here, she's hauntingly afflicted, and every note exudes confusion and ache. On 'She Will' (admittedly incredibly similar to She's Losing Control), she's untouchable. Even when showing emotional vulnerability - as on 'No Face', with her repeated protests of "don't worry about breaking my heart" - she only goes on to brush it away with malice ("far bigger things will fall apart") and cruel retorts ("you argue everything like a bird who's never learned to sing").

After a brief desire to be punched about a bit to feel alive (on 'Hit Me', a song loosely based around the work of a pornstar who found a rape scene emotionally exhilarating and empowering), the band take turn to reject domestic life on 'Husbands' ("God I wanna get rid of it", she sighs, in relation to a man she's just slept with), the album's most immediately grabbing hook. Oddly, Silence Yourself ends with an almost-jazz solo from guest clarinet stalwart Duke Garwood, and it's a divisive stylistic manoeuvre indeed (inevitably, some punk purists loathe its presence, other more rounded fans find it charming and "different").

Ultimately, this is one of the most engaging debuts in a long, long time. I'm going to come back to this and discover new favourites all the time, I can tell. But I can't help but feel this would be a lot better seen live. And if a band's only real signpost is the desire to make their audiences turn off their phones and pay attention, then there is the worry that Savages are heralded as a reactionary movement against poor contemporary attention span, rather than as a talented, impassioned band. Time will tell.

Rating: 8/10
Highlights: Shut Up; Husbands; She Will; Strife; City's Full
Avoid: n/a

Artwork Watch: Like 4 Brian Molkos pretending to be the Corrs
For fans of: Anna Calvi, Siouxsie Sioux, Joy Division
Up next: Little Boots