Hidden deep in the woods for a few years the woodwose are once again gathered at the edge of the clearing with their sticks and robes to dance in defiance of the darkness. Their reason for gathering and their call to us, Hard Times Furious Dancing is both diagnosis and prescription. The world is a ball of confusion, a vexing puzzle, a raging bin fire and we, for the most part, can do little more than gaze in horror. Fuck it, let’s dance. On their fourth album Snapped Ankles are more themselves than ever, doubling down on their core idea of dance as a powerful therapy against harsh reality, offering both healing community and sustenance for the fight.
‘Pay the Rent’ wriggles and squiggles a moment before settling into a bumping, rattling, groove. The title making clear the first thing that’s bugging them. Next up ‘Personal Responsibilities’ has a word about our freedoms and obligations but more importantly how they don’t seem to apply to the large corporations busily making everything worse for everyone else so they can have some more money tucked away in a vault somewhere. Hard times griping done we’re riding the polyrhythmic wave of ‘Raoul’ when the drugs begin to take hold. Dogs are howling and little is reliably clear, the track is named for Raoul Duke of Fear and Loathing… infamy who may or may not be on a windmill tour of bat country with Don Quixote. To what end I couldn’t honestly tell you, but it is fun. Sticking with the literary nods the outro has an almost subliminal snatch of ‘Reviewing the Situation’, Fagin’s moment of reflection from Oliver! Make of that what you will.
Further unlikely encounters and Spanish adventures follow. ‘Where’s the Caganer?’ celebrates the mysterious shitter found lurking in Spanish nativity scenes, which certainly puts a new twist on the bands use of ‘log’ synths. ‘Smart World’ plays out a debate over the possibilities of AI through an imagined discussion between noted sound manipulators Conny Plank and Brian Eno. The Ankles seem pretty much against it themselves “strange and creepy, weird and eerie” but that hasn’t stopped them putting together a fairly upsetting AI video to illustrate and underline that uneasiness. This time it’s poor old Mark ‘weird and eerie’ Fisher who pops up at the end looking uncomfortable about the whole business. Unheimlich! As he would probably have been conflicted about saying.
Snapped Ankles are clearly not eerie but they are a bit weird, good weird. They spent a while in the woods for this one, chewing on roots and, um, going to book group it would seem (the album’s title comes from Alice Walker). They also tested out this material at a series of their own Forest Rayve nights and it condenses and intensifies their sound, making it more direct, irresistibly fidgety and rhythmic. It may well be their best record but it also seems to bump up against the fence at the end of their sound. It doesn’t all rush together as one long night dancing in the trees and yet it’s hard to tell one track from another.
Despite the magnificent, laudable, slogan under which it sets forth Hard Times Furious Dancing feels insufficiently furious. The airing of grievances lacks the dark grind and anger to rabble rouse, which is fine as it goes but the music never quite hits that soaring emotional lift of rave either. It rattles along enjoyably but doesn’t make that transcendent leap they aim for. Maybe I just need to play it louder. In the woods. Snapped Ankles aren’t dealing in sleek machine minimalism they’re aiming for something instinctual and I find myself willing them to snap the leash, burst through the fence and make it feral, make it stupid, dig down in the earth and really call up the forest spirits.
