|4||Go Away, Don't Leave Me Alone|
|6||Confuse Her Now|
|8||Dust To Light|
We have the tallest bass player this side of Greece and riffs in size to match. United Fruit are an assault on the eardrums. We like it loud and fast and so do our fans when we put on a show. It can sometimes get pretty chaotic and we've had a few venues switch from glasses to plastic cups because we expect our fans to be as into the show as us.
if anything better comes in during the week (of release) I'll forward it on <<<
United Fruit are something of an oddity on Scotland’s current musical climes. While a predisposition for awkward, electronically-skewered sounds continues to permeate the country’s hipster haunts, the Glasgow quartet’s ...Trail of the Dead-esque apoplectic hardcore should be ill-placed in such pretentious surroundings. Yet somehow their ballistic clatter of ear-grating guitars and behemothic percussion is dragging the band out from the west coast noise scene and onto mainstream playlists and venues. Their riotous, adrenaline fuelled live shows are fast gaining them a heady reputation , while the rambunctious clang of excellent soon-to-be-released debut album Fault Lines will compound the band’s rapidly increasing presence on the Scottish scene. Right now, United Fruit are making a sound that demands to be heard. In fact, it’s so loud, you could say it’s almost unavoidable.
Drowned In Sound
It’s quite a loud listen, but beneath all the clattering drums and overdriven guitars there are nine very good and extremely enjoyable songs. ‘Wrecking Ball’ is the record’s closing track, and I’ve been enjoying it so much that I’m certain you need to hear it. It’s arguably the standout, but acts as a good indication of what the album’s about - it doesn’t pull any punches, and that’s what makes it all the more exciting.
Music Fan's Mic
What I really enjoy about this album is the raw energy that enervates these songs - 'Red Letter' borders the noise of DFA79 in its outro - coupled with the moxy of crafting solid pop structures and being incredibly angular and loud. Its not afraid to be unbearably loud yet strongly configured, making the album inherently infectious.
If you like your music smooth with all the rough edges filed away then you may as well leave now and go and indulge in the dubious pleasures of SmoothFM or Simply Red’s back catalogue. If however you like your music raucous, discordant and so loud it makes you dizzy then keep reading because United Fruit are on a mission to destroy your brain cells and leave you little more than a quivering wreck. From the ear bothering noise of opener Kamikaze through to the sludgy emo of Wrecking Ball the pace of the Scottish noiseniks’ debut album Fault Lines rarely falters. Pitching its tent somewhere between the confrontational brutality of McLusky and the apocalyptic experimentalism of Trail of Dead it’s an adrenaline rush that leaves most albums choking on their exhaust fumes.
'Go Away, Don’t Leave Me Alone' owes it’s life, it’s very existence, to At The Drive In. It’s a close relative of 'One Armed Scissor', a Scissor sister perhaps. The only respite from the brain pummelling noise comes courtesy of Three, the only track on the album where the pace dips below the furiously frenetic. It’s the point at which noise and melody meet, fall in love and decide to live together until deaf do them part. It is, however, no more than the briefest of brief respites. The buzzing 'Confuse Her Now' and the aural assault of 'The Alarm' add more weight to the United Fruit mission to boost the profit margins of the UK’s hearing aid salesman.
Fault Lines is punk without the anger, it’s emo without the self pity, it’s post rock without the self indulgence. It’ll tear your ears from your head and leave them in a bleeding heap on the floor and there aren’t many albums you can say that about. Make United Fruit one of your five a day.
Discordant post rock that'll tear your ears from your head and leave them in a bleeding heap on the floor.
The Devil Has The Best Tuna
Kamikaze waves the starting flag on thirty-odd minutes of all-out abrasion served at F1 velocity where the foot rarely slips from the pedal. Among the album's many highlights, Red Letter is exemplary of their stock-in-trade – guitars swarm like a wasp nest on fire while Iskander Stewart’s hungry vocals fight to be heard, all shot through with a creative sense of melody. Cynics might dismiss Fault Lines as homage to another time or place; they won't know what they're missing.