Like My Bloody Valentine and the Jesus & Mary Chain before it, Brooklyn's a Place to Bury Strangers revels in noise. And feedback. And ear-piercing squalls that sound like they're tearing up the amps from the inside out. For years, the group's rep rested on "Loudest Band in New York" laurels. But with the release of 2007's self-titled debut, A Place to Bury Strangers finally has a more universal playground. Frontman Oliver Ackermann soaks in the sounds of the U.K.'s second wave of post-punk bands. Droopy vocals, droning guitar runs, and a way-muddy mix saturate songs like "To Fix the Gash in Your Head" and "Ocean." Ackermann doesn't really say much; the draw here is the plugged-in fuzz, which — like those teeny-tiny creatures that live 20,000 leagues under the sea — generates its own life form. It's heavy stuff that oughta leave your ears ringing for at least a day or two after the band's Beachland show this week.
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