Screensaver, out of Melbourne, churns out a sleek and stylish roar. Bass lines pulse like throbbing veins. Guitar chords clash and clang. Drums rumble like seismic tremors, pummeling till the surface cracks. Synthesizers sluice a dark-toned, futuristic drama over all of it. And, the singer, one Krystal Maynard keens and yelps and trills with an early 1980s glamor that evokes—no dis intended here—prime Pat Benatar. (You’re laughing, but try A-Bing “Guilt” with “Love Is a Battlefield,” and tell me what you hear.)
Screensaver was originally a long-distance collaboration between Christopher Stephenson, a veteran of EXEK and Spray Paint, then based in Austin, and Maynard of Bad Vision, who lived in Australia. Stephenson later moved to Melbourne, where Screensaver continued in the usual, flesh and blood way. This is Screensaver’s second full-length album, following 2001’s Expression of Interest, a churning, tunnel-visioned dystopia of a record, made of the same basic elements as this one but not as cleanly realized. These songs are polished and precise, the sounds furiously executed but cleanly separated. They reflect back at you in a black mirror sheen.
“Guilt” is the first single, a volcanic eruption of synth punk energy, anchored by pavement-shaking bass and drums, but shot through with sci-fi space sounds and ultra dramatic lead vocals. Maynard’s voice is surrounded by cavernous echo; she lives, musically, in a dank, reverberating space that turns even the most mundane observations (“Want to eat all of the calories/have a break-down when it suits me”) into cries of defiance.
But actually, most of the words aren’t mundane. Screensaver manages to be topical without getting awkward or over-literal. “Future Trash” slips some astute observations about consumerism in between its shimmering blasts of synth tones. “Severance Pay” and “No Vacation” critique the workplace, in the most thumping, propulsive way. I’m not quite sure what “Drainer” is about, but it eddies and whorls like dark water going down the sink and is maybe the disc’s best, most banging cut. This is eruptive, large scale punk where every element pops and night comes on with astonishing speed. It’s a blast and a threat and an omen, and you need to hear it.
