SCUM by Posset

I was almost seventeen when 'Scum' came out, lurching through my headphones sandwiched between John Peel’s warm gravy groans.

It flipped me out. My punker brain, pretty much allergic to anything metal, made a series of damp connections that lodged the chaotic buzzing insect rumble in my mind forever.

Thirty-odd years later this record still sounds urgent and furiously angry. It sounds more important than ever.

I decided I wanted to do ‘something’ with Scum in late 2023. I listened to the record again and again. I found that among the speed, distortion and noise there was an irresistible push and pull of dark gravity. There were delicate, feathery textures buried beneath the murk. Riffs were clever little puzzle pieces, building blocks to anchor the transcendent blast-beats. I dug out the lyric sheet and found a group, often described as terrifying were actually terrified by their world and all that was in it. Over the months this record was revealing itself to me, the subtle variations and shifts in mood. The spare studio effects and occasional overdubs hummed like creosote. I dreamed about 'Scum'. The rhythms and grotty motifs kept finding their way into my fingers every time I picked up my Dictaphones.

My working method? There was lots of listening, forensic considered listening, pen in hand, marking up file cards for each of the twenty-eight songs. What was I hearing here? What stood out? Was it dynamic tension and release, sharp changes in velocity, a rare disembodied guitar solo or a grumpy mammoth hum?

The more I listened, the more I imagined I heard the band’s hidden structures and intentions; small cells of ideas moving from song to song. This wasn’t about guitars and drums and voice any more. It was about capturing a moment of existential terror bathed in the weak Midlands sunlight.

This is a love letter to 'Scum'; messy, heartfelt, and a little hot underneath the collar. For better or for worse, 'Scum', you made me what I am today.

Joe Murray