Iceage Album Review: "Plowing Into the Field of Love"

Punk rock, at its finest, both agitates and puts a smile on your face. Danish band Iceage did that on their previous two albums, New Brigade and You’re Nothing. Both were obliterating affairs dealing with both physical and philosophical anxieties in short, aggressive, and noisy spurts, like a Black Flag for the 21^st century. This, their third release, retains that youthful nihilism, while also demonstrating their improved technical ability and desire to go out on a limb musically.

The most noticeable thing about Plowing Into the Field of Love is how fit for autumn it seems to be. Frontman Elias Bender Rønnenfelt’s Joe Strummer-meets-Tim Armstrong voice sits higher up in the mix than on previous albums, which tended to bury his vocals beneath the cold, gothic-tinged noise of the thrashing guitars. This difference makes Rønnenfelt sound more like the drunken guy at the bonfire, rambling into your ear, with the only difference being that Rønnenfelt actually has some interesting observations. The slight bit of separation between his voice and the rest of the band actually makes the band sound more cohesive; you can tell what each member is doing, but they all interlock now to sound like a band instead of a storm of noise. Obviously the latter has its qualities (and visceral effectiveness) but to hear Iceage’s maturation is relieving; they’re not content to deliver the same product over and over again to diminishing returns. At the same time, it’s not like the band has eschewed all noise, choosing to explore fuzz guitar textures other than the amp-burning ones found so often on You’re Nothing and New Brigade. This exploration also sees the band letting the guitars take on a more nuanced role in the sound. Just as there are quite a few memorable riffs here (“The Lord’s Favorite”, “How Many”, and “Abundant Living” come to mind), there are plenty more times where the electrics sit back in the mix to provide the canvas for perhaps the most startling moments on the record: when the acoustics come in. Viola, mandolin, horns, and guitar all make unplugged appearances, but do so in a decidedly traditional-sounding way. Altogether, these changes make the record sound homey yet aggressive, organic but not folksy, and way more interesting (and harsh) than anything you might hear at a fall festival this year, but still warm.

This album feels a little long in comparison to the others. Consider: on New Brigade, only one song reached the three-minute mark. None reached the four-minute mark on You’re Nothing, and now no song is under two-and-a-half minutes with Plowing. Too often, bands confound “maturing their sound” with “bloating,” but that’s mostly untrue here. What we hear instead is a band conserving their energy to make those big, hooky moments actually come off that way. “How Many” achieves an epic chorus unlike any of their previous material. It certainly would still be a solid cut had it been given the same treatment as, say, You’re Nothing’s “Coalition”, but it manages to transcend the rest of their catalogue in emotional weight by not blowing through with breakneck speed. And when they really decide to slow it down, with the drunken-stumble-home of “Against the Moon,” there’s enough going on, what with the horn section and piano motif, to doubly engage the listener while also laying out one of the most emotionally bare (and meta-punk) sentiments: “Whatever I do, I don’t repent.” It reaffirms the idea of “punk” as a concept instead of a sound, and is beautifully exemplified here.