Typically, if you’re a wallflower, you have an air of shyness or awkwardness. Drawing attention to yourself would be the absolute opposite of a good time.
This couldn’t be further from the case for Jinjer. Releasing on August 27, their third album Wallflowers rips the buds from the wall and hurls them into the spotlight. Following their game changing Macro, Wallflowers is a harsh examination of the past year. Delving into the wealth of inspiration this Covid world has provided, Jinjer throw us to the wolves of our own creation.
“I’m overthrown with self love” Tatiana Shmayluk’s revitalised anger screams in ‘Call Me A Symbol’. From the off, we hear Jinjer revelling in blurred genres. The brutality of hardcore’s double kick collides with winding guitars of grunge. This heady blend of viciousness grabs us by the scruff of the neck as Shmayluk demands our attention with larynx lacerating roars. The soulful clean vocal of “let me feel my evil” breeds the courage we all need to assert ourselves in a world vying to crush us. The spiral into decadence shortly after with meaty riffs from Roman Ibramkhalilov powered by Vlad Ulasevich’s unravelling beat is nothing short of divine.
‘Call Me A Symbol’ opens the door to a realm of personal reflection. Jinjer’s mission statement with Wallflowers was to expose the truth that not all introspection is pretty to look at. ‘Copycat’ examines platonic relationships which have been tainted by jealousy. Dense riffs hit us like a freight train. We expect massive roars so the introductory clean vocals take us aback. Keeping us on our toes is Jinjer’s favourite game. ‘Disclosure!’ starts with a sucker-punch riff churning under sweet cleans. Its frantic nature soon comes out to play. “Let’s play this mind game” exposes not only the song’s identity but rips the mask from the duplicitous subject.
Wallflowers builds on Macro’s incredible foundation. Jinjer learned how to play with song composition which has opened up entire worlds to them. ‘Pearls And Swine’ teases us with a slow, grunge inspired intro which explodes into the angriest song on the record. Venom laces the blasts of Eugene Abdukhanov’s bass licks. This hostility infects Shmayluk’s growls as she dismantles a swine’s masquerade. Relishing in this discomfort, ‘As I Boil Ice’ is a pure wall of noise in its inception. Within fast flashes of darkness sits a delicious groove. As if blending the most bitter cup of coffee, Shmayluk’s deep growls mix beautifully with hellacious instrumentals.
While this may seem to be a collection of aggression, Jinjer are keen to show another side to themselves. The title track oozes melancholy. Bass notes patter through the murky opening moments. Weaving the tale of how outside life can drain a person, the track is a wonderful depiction of how we “fall in love with solitude”. It’s no secret many of us have become homebodies within the past year. Yet it’s something many don’t express. The anxiety which surrounds social situations and “the fear of saying something wrong” has become increasingly common. For a band as imposing as Jinjer to lay their souls bare is the most endearing factor of this album. The use of Shmayluk’s screams as a device to connote pain and suffering within herself wrenches at our own hearts.
Taking full advantage of the opportunity presented to them, Jinjer hold their lives under a microscope and dissect it with surgical precision. Unlike many others, there is no message of positivity and triumph here. Wallflowers is dark, bleak, and angry. All in all, it is a true reflection of our collective minds. Holding the mirror up to our own lives, Jinjer force us to look at ourselves. With sonic breakdowns as large as some of our mental ones, Wallflowers is unbridled catharsis. An outlet we sorely need.