High Anxiety

A glossy British music monthly once patented the phrase, “Therapy? are going to be massive”. Unfortunately, Kurt was on his way out, Green Day on their way in, and the commercial space available for literate, knowing, head-fuck guitar music was being squeezed until only nu-metal plankton could possibly survive.
What’s to be done if you like Beefheart and Black Flag, and the slot you normally filled on Top Of The Pops is suddenly being occupied by Blink 182? Wear shorts? Hire dwarves? Cry?
How about retreat with dignity to a smaller label, release a low-key album (Suicide Pact - You First) that re-establishes your hardcore credentials, followed by a retrospective (So Much For The 10 Year Plan) that reminds people how good you actually were.
And then – to top it off – why not bang out a LP that stands in comparison with anything you recorded in the days when you had to ask Anton Corbijn to stop calling you at home?
Well, hats off to Andy, Michael and co. because with High Anxiety they’ve done just that, and along the way may even have repositioned Therapy? to take full advantage of the QOTSA foul-metal rout.
This is a clean-shaven and grown-up record, and one that is surprisingly light on its feet. ‘Watch You Go’ and ‘My Voodoo Doll’ are great joyous John O’Neill stompathons and loyal compadres with the likes of ‘Loose’ and ‘Nowhere’. And while the album doesn’t quite have a killer track in the vein of ‘Screamager’ ‘Church Of Noise’ or ‘Innocent X’, the likes of ‘Nobody Here But Us’ and the pummelling ‘Who Knows’ sure sound like they’ve started torturing animals.
The mighty centrepiece is ‘Not In My Name’ – a track that glowers with righteousness, and contains the magnificent line, “My grandfather was cannon-fodder/To think he died for the likes of you.”
High Anxiety is like welcoming home a much loved and entertainingly errant friend. Honestly, you’ll be glad to have Therapy? back on your couch.