So Terry. I’m Terry is their new record. They read the news today and oh boy it was dismal. Apocalyptic.
Some see them as a final evolution of the dolewave sound. But if such a jangle ever existed – and let’s just say it did - that was Dick Diver (an outfit from which the band’s Al Montfort comes). DD were the essence of it, at least before those early Courtney Barnett records took it big time.
Terry ain’t Big Time. But they should be. Terry’s more like The Velvets but only if they had the militancy and precision of hardcore punk.
The music is masterful in its economy and space. The lyrics are sharp, delivered with dry irony and plenty of clever intimation. These four are minimal but they love hooks. Or if they don’t love ‘em they’re good regardless.
Terry master their musical language. It’s their own. Not dolewave, new wave, no wave or any wave, they’re originals.
Waves crash overhead but these four travel to their own destinations, euphoric in the looming dread and driven where hearts and instinct take them. So if anything you could say that they’re irrespective, not a wave of anything. A law unto themselves. Kinda like bands that come out of Athens, Georgia sometimes are or let’s just say it Creedence Clearwater Revival.
‘The Whip’ is where it all gets going and from there it doesn’t stop. ‘Under Reign’ mellows a little but continues to set the tone. What is that tone? A kind of bleak dystopia. Grey.
There’s politics bringing down oppression from above but everyday life pulls it in from the sides too. What’s more tyrannical than traffic asks ‘Bureau’? Diamond mines. ‘Crimes’ too. This record is fun, both laugh and existential sigh.
Henry Rollins once said this of Terry:
“They don’t make bad songs that band. They’re fantastic.”
“…Terry. I play those records all the time. They’re just so good.
Says it all really.
Words by Riley Fitzgerald