CHARLOTTEFIELD are an intriguing bunch of rum buggers. They're a guitar-mangling quartet who've been grubbing around in the margins for the last three years or so before finally taking the plunge with "How Long Are You Staying" a wired'n'disciplined debut album that clocks in at a brutally economic 29 minutes.
Despite its' brevity, though, "How Long..." is an album long on surprises and one which wrestles free of stylistic straitjackets as soon as you've begun to strap them in. Indeed, the opening salvo of "Nine Tails" and "A>>B" gives you some idea of what (not) to expect. The former is all taut basslines, fractured guitars and fussy drums and comes straight outta the Rough Trade shops "Post-Punk 01" compilation, waking the spectres of long-dead awkward cusses like Death By Milkfloat, Bob Tilton and Crane, while "A>>B" is slow, morose and significantly less easy to categorise.
Crucially, though, while Charlottefield can sometimes come on like a who's who of post-hardcore and post-rock ( "Again" and "The Eleventh Day" mainline on Fugazi-style amouldering adrenaline; "Clipper"s spooked, E-bow enhanced drone recalls Slint and the deft'n'focussed instrumental "How Long" has echoes of unsung Cork heroes Rest), they play with a well-drilled contemporary dynamic that ensures they don't sound like just another bunch of post-hardcore squallers.
For a start, Thomas House's vocal technique is from the Stasi interrogation school of shrieking torture rather than anything related to, er, singing (well, save for his evil, clammy whispering during "Clipper") which ensures you can't ignore him, while the band's intuitive playing rarely lets them down. A special mention is surely due to drummer Ashley Marlowe, too, because his syncopation and dexterity behind the kit is second to none.
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Admittedly, they do part company with your reviewer's tolerance with the closing "Weevils". A great title, sure, but the avalanche of an intro makes like an alternate take of The Stooges' resolutely unlistenable "LA Blues", and despite temporarily morphing into another churning, heatseeking post-punker, it is ultimately a particularly ugly headfuck and a migraine your hapless hack can do without, thanks very much.
Still, not too much of a blotted copybook and not enough to destroy the general feeling of adrenalised goodwill you've been shoring up along the way. "How Long Are You Staying" may be more of a statement than a question, but begs "well, quite some time if you can maintain this ferocious standard" in answer.
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