Swans – May 1983

Swans’ genre reach is defined as “swans”, because let’s face it, this is beyond noise rock, this is beyong industrial, this is beyond experimental. And there sure is no better way to describe it than pulling Filth out of the shelf.

The band’s trully full-bodied debut has raw written all over. The instrumental nudity imprinted into this album is almost offensive.



Stretching its claws to the roots of music itself, Filth feeds on agressive rythms and agonizing vocals. It steers the fears inside your cauldron soul, unveiling anger and aggressiveness you didn’t even know you were capable of expressing.

If, like myself, you started your relationship with Swans on the post-Jarboe‘s-entrance era, you’re presented with somewhat melodic, mesmerizing records. Guess what: it wasn’t always sunshine and rainbows. Not in Cop, not in Greed and most definetly not in Filth.

With this piece of work, frontman Michael Gira unleashes his most gutural, abrasive vocals, in a hypnotizing woo at despair itself, and along with wall-smashing percussion and hellishly distorted basslines, builds the emotional wasteland that is Filth.

If there’s an album that made me cushion all the furniture in the room before listening to it, there you have it.

There’s no escape. There’s no “passing by” Filth. You’re either in or you’re out.


And once you’re in, well,

Hold on very tightly.


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