There’s an old quote that goes something like, “writing about music is like dancing about architecture.” I generally disagree with that maxim—given the amount of time I spend doing just that. But sometimes, it hits the bullseye of my inadequacies. And when it comes to describing Brutus, that bullseye is a mile wide.
Because in truth, no matter how precisely I could parse the formulas behind the Belgian power trio’s genre-fusing alchemy (something like, two parts hardcore, one part shoegaze, one part shoegaze, a pinch of blackgaze, sprinkle pop sensibilities to taste), it would be utterly useless compared to actually listening to it.