Lifeguard Ripped & Torn

Much like the vibrant Chicago indie music scene that bred it, Lifeguard was one of the projects that band members Asher Case, Kai Slater, and Isaac Lowenstein were testing out without the weight of expectation behind them. While still in their teens, the band's art punk initially made the rounds in local circles before making some headway with a pair of EPs—Crown Can Talk and Dressed in Trenches—that demonstrated their raw, if fawningly reverential, talent. Taking cues from the likes of McLusky and Gang of Four, the young trio seemed too studied in their approach, breaking down a flurry of genres to reveal a glimmer of their potential true sound.

The tightly wound A Tightwire, as perfect as any major indie label full-length debut statement, gets to the point quickly, much like The Futureheads turned heads twenty years prior with likeminded scuzzed-up tunefulness. “When the time comes to/Suck my teeth in/I'm Chewing,” Case sings hungrily in his slightly affected Anglophilic tone as juddering hooks crash into each other. Despite having 50 years of source material to sift through, the trio finds the confidence to toss aside their books and put what they have learned into practice. Ripped & Torn proceeds to take charge by adhering to a wiry groove —whether they pair metallic dub rhythms (Under Your Reach) or jagged guitar leads (How to Say Deisar) to their all-out assaults.

While much of Ripped & Torn could be considered outré by definition, in some measure because of their impressionistic lyrics, the trio has a sharp instinct for tuneful songwriting that never sinks the album into moody territory. In addition to his contributions to Lifeguard, Slater, an assiduous tastemaker wise beyond his years, unconsciously adopts some of the crafty swagger he brought to his side project Sharp Pins. Take It May Get Worse, which rolls along with a taut, punk-driven melody despite providing a shrill backdrop. And menacing as they might seem, songs like Under Your Reach deliver a tasteful, psych-tinged racket that makes you root for, rather than run away, from them.

Lifeguard not only takes a curatorial approach to their frantic noise, but also in their choice of production personnel. Bringing along Randy Randall of noise-punk nonconformists No Age behind the boards, who's succeeded at making uncompromising yet accessible experimental music, creates a seamless mentorship. Textural but never too brainy, the trio clearly understands that their dynamic ebb and flow of harsh and sweet—interspersed with some atonal interludes—must hang together to resist falling apart. The trio compels you to return to it again and again on Ripped & Torn—it's just that catchy—all while paving the way for the next generation of curious teens who have uncles with cool record collections.