The Jesus Lizard shine just as brightly as they ever did on Rack

Steve Albini once described the Jesus Lizard as the greatest band of the 90s. Quite the claim for a decade stuffed obscenely with great alternative rock, but for those with a love of the weird, wild and unpredictable it’s a very valid point. Their albums Goat and Liar from the start of that decade were noise-rock masterpieces that sound as fresh and unhinged today as they did back then. But other than some intermittent reunion shows, there’s been nothing new from them since 1998’s Blue .

When the release of Rack was announced, 26 years on, there was a nagging fear that they may have mellowed with age, unthinkable for a band that burned so fiercely. Put those doubts to rest, though, because Rack is an incendiary device of an album.

As ever, it’s a fine balancing act of controlled noise and vocal bedlam. Frontman David Yow is a genuine one-of-a-kind, a wild-eyed prophet of chaos. ‘ I’m sick and tired of this fakery, I wanna bust a nut and go on a killing spree! ’ he howls on album closer Swan The Dog . He battles a witch (‘ battleaxe with no sense of humour ’) on the groove-laden thrill ride of Hide & Seek , and imagines a widow to be ‘ liar, a murderer, a psychopath ’ on the Halloween-hued What If? , a bass-driven creep show crawling with spidery guitars.

The heavy, lolloping Birthday Party-adjacent Lord Godiva sees Yow rant and rave, his voice breaking under the strain of the mania, letting out and almighty ‘ homiciiiiiiide ’. He’s a seer, a shaman, a madman and a wise sage, his spat-out ‘ I’m forecasting stupid ’ incantation on Is That Your Hand? an absolutely fair evaluation of the world at large.

And yet the Jesus Lizard are not – and never have been – just a crazed sideshow. Yow’s explosive proclamations are a work of artistic wonderment in and of themselves, but the skill with which the rest of the band complement his roar is jaw-dropping. Mac McNeilly’s militaristic, cruel drums provide the ice to counter Yow’s fire, David Wm. Sims’s loping bass is the backbone that gives the whole thing structure and purpose, and Duane Denison’s coiled-spring guitar delivers constant irresistible busts of colour. Together, as a collective, these men are borderline geniuses.

So, it seems, 26 years on, still no one can hold a candle to the Jesus Lizard. They’re in a category of one, and they shine just as brightly as they ever did. Rack is one of the most fascinating records you’ll hear this year, and it’s up there with their best.