Album Review: Steak, Acute Mania
There are a few things happening with Steak on Acute Mania. The London-based band’s third full-length and second for Ripple Music behind 2017’s No God to Save (review here), it marks a decade since the four-piece issued their 2012 debut EP, Disastronaught (review here) — which was soon followed by 2013’s Corned Beef Colossus EP (review here) — and set in motion a comic storyline that has continued throughout their sundry adventures in the years since. Comic-style art is a big part of Acute Mania as well, as the special edition vinyl of the eight-song/47-minute outing includes the graphic novel Mad Lord, written by Steak guitarist Reece Tee with Rhys Wooton — who also did the cover art for the album with Schoph Schofield and has worked with the band before — and Samuel Smith. That in itself would be enough, but there’s also a film called Mad Lord: Samurai of 1,000 Deaths — Tee has an Executive Producer credit on that, while Smith wrote and directed — that ties into the story as well.
That too would be enough, but it’s also Steak‘s first record with drummer Dean Deal (formerly of Crystal Head and Magna Saga) in the lineup alongside Tee, bassist James “Cam” Cameron and vocalist Chris “Kippa” Haley, and that’s a dynamic shift that can be heard from opener “Wolves” onward, and it sees them bringing in guest vocalists Tom Cameron (also formerly Crystal Head, may or may not be related to James, I honestly don’t know) on side B’s “System” and Chantal Brown of Vodun and many, many other guest spots throughout London heavy on the album finale “Mono.” Further, in performance and construction, Acute Mania is the richest offering Steak have yet made, and as they ascend into veteran status within one of Planet Earth’s most vibrant and populated creative undergrounds, they absolutely own every moment of the album. That is to say, each song on Acute Mania has its purpose serving the greater whole, and the entirety of the release shows Steak as heavier, more realized, more melodic and more mindful in their arrangements than they’ve ever been.
If nothing else, the very least one might say of Acute Mania is that the band found the right producer in JB Pilon at Buffalo Studio, who also mixed with Simone Lomardi while the esteemed Karl Daniel Lidén (Katatonia, Greenleaf, so many others) at Tri-Lamb Studios in Sweden mastered. The sound of the record is spacious when it needs to be in pieces like “Ancestors” with its memorable, vocal-highlight hook in its second half, “Wolves” — speaking of Greenleaf, the atmospheric beginning of Acute Mania calls to mind how Greenleaf‘s 2021 LP, Echoes From a Mass, also worked in defiance of rockers-up-front expectation in favor of something more gradually unfolding — or the mellow, All Them Witches-style psych-blues in the early going of “Last Days,” with Haley channeling Nick Cave in Grinderman with his intonations that “It’s getting too late…” (thinking “Kitchenette” from the second album; willing to accept it as sonic coincidence but that’s where my head goes anyhow), or the drifting psychedelia that begins the subsequent “Frequencies,” with the guitar far back in that deep mix and thus landing that much harder when the riff kicks in for real, backed by a fervent nodding groove in the bass and drums and verse vocals with just the right edge of distortion on them. Again, the right producer, in terms both of capturing that performance and knowing how to treat it.
With Tom Cameron stepping in for “System” between, that is all before the penultimate “Papas Special Custard” (premiered here) establishes itself as one of the most ambitious single tracks the band has ever done, building on the volume trades of “Frequencies,” but less beholden to one-or-the-other-ism, arriving at layered-solo apex that’s worthy of its placement as the crescendo of Acute Mania before the even more pointedly atmospheric “Mono” closes out, Chantal Brown‘s arrival in choral fashion and playing off the melody of the guitar at about 3:32 into the 5:05 not to be understated as a peak of its own. Even the manner in which “Wolves” sets up the brash three-minute run of second cut “Dead Meat” — which has guitar acting like backing vocals, maybe a theremin, before shredding its final measure to bits and feeding directly into “Ancestors” — feels conceived and executed with a level of care emblematic of a band seeing the broader scope of their whole work.
Almost none of this should come as a surprise to those who’ve followed Steak at any point over the last 10 years. They’ve always rocked with a bit of edge and a chip on their collective shoulder, perhaps feeling like there’s something to prove, but with both time and their creative development up to now behind them, Acute Mania leaves no real questions to ask except perhaps whether it will be another five years before their next LP surfaces — and hopefully not. As much as the focus throughout is on mood, almost in defiance of the title, “Wolves,” “Dead Meat,” “Last Days,” the more aggro moments of “Frequencies” and the pull-it-all-together-and-pay-it-off “Papas Special Custard” want nothing either for tonal presence or weighted push, even if on average the tempo throughout Acute Mania might be slower than one would expect.
But if the story of No God to Save — the real-world story, not the album’s actual narrative — was of a band finding their place within a style, Acute Mania is a logical, sizeable next forward step in manifesting their persona in that place. On a level of craft, these are the most complex songs Steak have written, and serve well across repeat listens to satisfy with detail and nuance and more to find the more one hears them. Tom Cameron‘s guest spot on “System” and Deal‘s drumming throughout serves as a reminder of how undervalued Crystal Head were in their time, and Chantal Brown is a force to behold, but Acute Mania is Steak grabbing hold of a pivotal moment for themselves and every bit living up to its demand. Whether it’s the balance of heft and flourish, the carefully wrought turns in atmosphere or the stretches of all-go urgency that still feel essential to who they are, Steak handle it all with professional-style grace while coming across as sincere and vital. And even before you account for the comic, film or any of the other not-directly musical aspects surrounding it, the result is the kind of record that not every band gets to make.
