I recently wrote about an innovation currently taking place in noise rock, where noise rock bands that have embraced everything from more elaborate and thoughtful songwriting to unsettling electronic experimentation on their 2026 releases. Some that I didn’t mention have taken on a spacious, extended approach to the genre while others have embraced a dense, radical brevity. Bands across the genre have been stretching and morphing the style into previously unknown forms over the last few years, but it feels like this year has been especially fruitful in this regard. Tankerlow’s sophomore effort Slagroom can safely be added to the growing list of innovative noise rock that has been released this year, and it stands among the best.
On Slagroom, Tankerlow employs a variety of sonic and dynamic approaches. Several tracks slowly unfold with a drone-like quality. There is an openness to those tracks that allows them to breathe and bloom on their own without being forced into a preconceived form by the composers. This natural pacing gives the impression that the members of Tankerlow exhibited considerable restraint, especially within a genre known for its compositional density. This restraint is most prominent toward the end of “Ergo/Ogre” when the song gets so quiet that the listener can hear the buzz of the amp underneath vocalist Guy Azulay’s unsettling, quiet moans. Yet, within that restraint is an impressive, free-wheeling aptitude for experimentation. That experimentation is prominent throughout the album, and not just with the more expansive tracks. Hammered dulcimers, pitched-down looped vocals that sound like a horn, and feedback accidentally created in the studio are all features on the groove-oriented “Formula Baby.” This combination of various compositional approaches and experimentation give each track their own character, a trait that is sadly hard to find in noise rock.
What is at least partially responsible for that experimentation is the fact that the band spent over “two consistent and meticulous years in the studio,” which also explains the high quality of Slagroom’s production. Slagroom is, simply put, the best-sounding noise rock I’ve heard all year. Aspects of the album’s mix and sonic qualities oscillate between warmth and intimacy and coldness and harshness. Many of the album's sounds have an industrial quality, but they all come through the mix with analog-like warmth and clarity. Primary vocalist Azulay’s spoken-word vocals on tracks like “DIN” sound as if he is an unwell man standing right next to you on the subway, calmly detailing his mental deterioration in broken sentences. At other times, Azulay’s vocals explode into ranting and raving fury, such as during the tortured refrain in the middle and end of “Plasticine.” The opening guitars on “Ergo/Ogre” are subdued jabs, cutting into the mix like a cold butter knife. But that guitar contrasts wildly with the clanky, claustrophobic walls of chaotic distortion that envelop the listener in the song’s more climactic moments. Other aspects of the production are more subtle, such as the kick drum in “Glory Hole” that suddenly has more gain added to it during the song’s climax. According to the band, Slagroom explores “the concept of duality and the conflicts that arise from the battle of opposites,” and that notion is represented in nearly every aspect of the album.
Slagroom is a rewarding but unsettling listening experience in part because the result of so many of those “battles of the opposite” is purgatory — a sense of being perpetually stuck in the gray, struggling to answer questions on identity, capitalism, and fame. But this, along with the experimentation and assiduous attention to detail, is what makes Slagroom such an intriguing listen and one of the most engaging noise rock releases this year. Of all the innovative releases put out under the noise rock banner this year, Slagroom is easily one of the best.