Looking Back and Raging Forward

Too clean for punk rock and too sporadic for alt-rock, Wakrat find a unique middle ground between genres. Their energy is primarily derived from a visceral sense of anger about the state of the world. Bassist and lead singer Tom Commerford heads the trio, moving away from the more conventional style of his earlier outfit, Rage Against the Machine. The charged, controversial undertones of the lyrics, however, remain.

The album begins with “Sober Addiction,” a song with a deceptively jazzy drum intro that quickly erupts into a nu-metal guitar riff. The lyrics and style are akin to any angsty early-2000s jam, colored by Commerford’s years in the industry. Following this punk/jazz fusion is a far more categorical song, “The Number.” Here, the listener can more clearly sense Wakrat’s hard rock origins. “Generation Fucked” is an anthem for disillusioned millennials. It shakes with the unresolved anger of exclusion and hopelessness. Like much of the album, it is not so much a call for change but an angry retort to existing power structures. The frequent and simple chorus makes one thing clear: there is no hope, so why even try? Four songs in, the pace remains steady. Commerford’s voice is reminiscent of Mike Ness from Social Distortion, punctuated by whispered interludes and a chorus of shouts. At this point, it becomes clear that Wakrat is not interested in poetry, but rather raw musical aggression.

The next standout, “Knucklehead,” spits angry, repetitive verses, “gimme the gun/fuck the knife.” Commerford twists and shouts these words through pounding guitars and drums. The album culminates with a solid closer, “Pigs in a Blanket” which perhaps represents Wakrat at their maddest. “Fuck with me and I’ll kill you all,” he screams. Punk rock has always served as a channel for societal rage, but Wakrat feels less directed. It captures the feeling, but perhaps not the spirit.

Wakrat acts as a band misplaced in time. Their cries to dismantle the system contain truth, particularly for more young disenfranchised Americans, but their attitude is almost archaic. It is a shadow of late ’90s anarchistic ideology and ’70s era punk. It speaks less to the fight for social justice and more to unbridled disillusionment. Commerford, a veteran in the music industry, no longer represents the underrepresented. In the end, the album becomes a tribute to time passed rather than a step forward.