Soot‘s second full-length album, Wearing a Wire, can be summed up with a single word — “sinister.” There are other words that may seem applicable – “brutal”, “foreboding” and “dark” come to mind. “Heavy”, “intense” and “aggressive” apply as well but none of those fit quite as well as “Sinister.”
Everything about Wearing a Wire is an elevated undertaking from their prior record, Talons of Empathy. The album sounds more crisp than the prior and is notably loud. I generally am not one to notice the loudness of a particular mastering job but this one is noteworthy. You don’t even need to crank the volume on this one. You should but you don’t need to.
Lyrically, the majority of tracks seem to be an exercise in character study, noteworthy charlatans that perhaps crossed the band’s path or simply observations of the kinds of aggressive people around us. There’s much violence noted throughout, often hinted at, occasionally directly cited. It’s presumptuous on my part but the hope is that these acts referenced throughout the record are a condemnation of them, not an endorsement. The characters present in “6 One Way”, “Fire Ants”, “Mr. Tennessee” and others seem to be treated with satirical disdain but you know what happens when you assume. That uncertainty certainly adds to the experience and intensity.
Occasionally, the record takes a respite from the brutal delivery but never veers away from the darkness. “Same Person” is pent-up condemnation on the inability to change largely delivered with floaty and sweet vibes, “Menthol” is a terrifying spoken word soliloquy presumably from a kidnapper and “Alma Jean” is a downright Southern ode to dark behaviors.
None of these, not one, ever veers away from feeling “sinister.” During the calmer songs or the occasional bass driven moments of swagger, there’s always that darkness looming. Perhaps that is the point of Soot; a reminder that no matter how hard you try, the darkness is nearby.