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Iceage

Plowing Into the Field of Love

Matador

After their career took flight in 2011, Denmark’s Iceage have ushered in a new age of punk. Iceage exemplifies many symptoms of rock’n’roll in the 2010’s through incessant attempts at remaining fresh in a genre that is profoundly shortsighted. At the forefront of this futility, we have Plowing Into the Field of Love, Iceage’s most recent collection of recorded lunacy. Saturated in fear and loathing, Iceage trudge their way through a wide variety of topics, ranging from an absent alcoholic father to getting animals drunk on the champagne of existential malaise; the dismality of humankind, lost up shit creek without a paddle. The album is the soundtrack of a dry heave. The singer extends his talents to respiratory exercises, and does not relent until the entirety of his breath has left him. The vocals hang over every note of screech from beginning to end, like a deity in a raincloud, glassy-eyed, dormant and veiled. Followers of bands like Hostage Calm, Ceremony and Pissed Jeans will probably have some of their attic fetishes fulfilled by Iceage’s latest Nietzschean tragedy.

– Petter Ness

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