If it feels like Basht have entered with might and velocity, it’s because they have. Hailing from Dublin with a back catalogue built from the clashing of fuzzy guitars and a gloriously grungy rhythm section, the band are seeking to stand out amid the Irish scene’s steady stream of musical exports. And this is something which no doubt happens within the distorted confines of their debut album Poor Advice.
It’s one of those debuts that really lays out what a band is all about, acting as a business pitch to why they warrant your attention. And boy does it work, and from the very start at that. Opener ‘Dive’ invites us into Basht’s world with a fine introduction. It heralds the band’s ability to find the perfect balance between atmosphere and story, with this slow, creeping bassline forming a sinister backdrop for a confession of inner turmoil to live amongst. We’re thrown straight into Basht.’s way of doing things, and for me, it only gets better from here.
‘Perfume’ sits along the same lines but continually builds into a darkly anthemic collision of instruments. And Jack Leavey’s vocals cut through it all with urgency. It takes all the band are already known for and adds to it, making a standout track on the record. This leads into ‘Keira Knightley,’ another highlight, as those sinister sounds that have formed the foundation of the album so far condense into this slick yet punchy musical offering that dances between chaos and calm.
‘Terror TV’ offers our first big U-turn in terms of sound, reminiscent of an 80s post-punk anthem. And harks back to that same brutal honesty that coincided with the post-punk movement as the track takes focus on the state of the world. Specifically, how, as humans, we now (frustratingly) sit aside as everything around us descends: “Worldwide just blind and bleeding.”
With ‘Superchurch,’ the band follows in these footsteps of candor, drawing in from their own experiences growing up under the Catholicism in Ireland. With a soundtrack that almost mimics the inner turmoil many will be able to relate to as what started out as a calming, reflective soundscape rapidly dissipates, replaced by the pounding of a drum kit and a fuzzy guitar crying out. Lyrically also, it’s probably the album’s finest moment, and might be the most honesty we’ve seen from the band (thus far at least).
As we enter the second half of the album, we’re reintroduced to that grungier sound that made itself at home at the very beginning. ‘Vermillion Reptilian’ feels like it could’ve been the album’s opener, as the instrumentation expands within its confines. ‘Circadia’ is this gorgeously frantic yet bitter collision of drums, bass, and electric guitars. You can almost imagine it in live play, with the sporadic movements of the crowd bouncing off the energy it conjures.
My only (slight) issue with the album is the final three songs. For me, ‘Moth’ takes its time to really feel like it deserves a place on the album. Its first moments feel slightly dull to me, as there’s not much going on musically. I will give it the justice it deserves, though, as the grandeur of the chorus, alongside the metaphors that sink into the lyrics, are beautifully put together. To go back to being fussy, ‘Kids Vs Guns’ feels too similar to ‘Moth’ to sit alongside it. They both sort of blend into one. If their placement within the album had been different, perhaps even set up to cut through some of the harsher tracks, then maybe it would sit better with me.
That being said, ‘Poor Advice’ certainly deserves its spot as a closing track. Whilst still comparable to the previous two tracks, a soaring culmination makes sense to end the album on a high. It’s just a shame that the previous two songs were of a similar nature.
Within 35 minutes, Basht. have offered a rapid-fire introduction, laying out exactly who they are. Its finest moments are when the most chaos ensues. When sounds fly through your headphones and the atmosphere builds. They’re the sort of band who you just know carry immense prowess live on stage. At times, this doesn’t quite translate within the album. But when it does, it really sticks.
