Above the title on the back side of French mayhem rockers Gunslingers’ second album, Manifesto Zero (World in Sound) is the question, “When a Disc and a Head collide and a hollow sound is heard, must it always have come from the Disc?” Each time I’ve sat and listened through this record, which follows in their catalog the critically successful No More Invention, I’ve puzzled over that question. Not because I think a head can’t be hollow – at least in the sense they mean: “Isn’t it possible you’re a fucking moron?” – but a disc is inherently flat. There’s no room for it to be hollow because there isn’t any space in a disc. Especially “disc,” ending with a  ‘c,’ which in this context implies a compact disc. If a disc had space between its two sides it would be a cylinder.

This is my fucking life. These are the things I obsess over.

At least, while I ruminate on these big questions of life I have the recorded-live freakout of Manifesto Zero to accompany, which in a cold post-modern way is very little comfort and yet somehow gets the job done anyway. The six tracks of the album (at about 31 minutes, we’ll call it a full-length because the marketing doesn’t say otherwise) offer a jangly and jagged garage retroism, bouncing murderously through the first several songs until slamming into the 8:15 of “An Eye for a Knife,” which is mean-man noise for a good couple minutes following some deceptive rock simplicity. The fronting work of guitarist/vocalist Gregory Raimo leads this stylish anti-fashion charge, leaving bassist Matthieu Canaguier and drummer Antoine Hadjioannou to keep up, which they do avec enthousiasme.

Since Manifesto Zero was recorded live, and onto a four track tape recorder no less, and since Gungslingers handled said recording (and mixing) all their own, they can fit neatly into the category of young rockers trying to capture an authenticity rooted somewhere in the past — hence retro — but their indie thrust and chic fuck-all is probably more an invention of this century rather than something The Stooges influenced. There are subtle psychedelic patterns emerging in Raimo’s guitar playing, but if you’re tripping on this, I can’t be held responsible for where you might end up and where your pants might be when you get there.

The distorted swagger picks up again in “I Know What You Want,” and continues essentially until the album’s close, running through “Stub of Fortune” and “Condor’s Radiant Spawn,” and just as Raimo’s into-a-tin-can fx’ed vocals begin to wear on the patience, the latter of those three turns out to be a mostly instrumental (there are some vocalizations, but no actual words) cut with a vague rockabilly tinge that closes Manifesto Zero on a surprisingly down home note. A nod to their super-hip American fanbase? Probably not. More likely they just get down with some golden oldies, as we all must do from time to time.

I’m reasonably sure my pants aren’t tight enough to show up at a Gunslingers show, but if I did anyway and charmed my way through the door, I’d have a pretty good idea of what to expect from Manifesto Zero. Within its style, there is a vibrance and willingness to let go that is freeing even to those on the listener side of the equation. Won’t be everyone’s cup of sidewalk café cappuccino, but I’d be surprised if Gunslingers didn’t make a whole lot of people forget the difference between a cylinder and a disc by the time the album is done.

Gunslingers on MySpace

World in Sound Records

Tags: France, Gunslingers, World in Sound

This entry was posted on Friday, March 12th, 2010 at 11:35 am and is filed under Reviews. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed.