Sorcs 80

If you zoned out of John Dwyer’s mutant garage-scuzz outfit somewhere around the time they evolved from Thee Oh Sees into Osees, you might take SORCS 80 for the work of a different band. All sampled squalor and lo-tech distortion, SORCS 80 thrashes and pulses without the aid of a single guitar, the product of Dwyer’s decision to abandon six strings for electronics. Dwyer specializes in these kinds of abrupt turns: He sheds styles faster than he changes band names, splicing prog and punk without considering whether his monster can survive. As combative as it gets, SORCS 80 represents a settling of sorts for Osees—a place where the lacerating punk of A Foul Form and the pugnacious synth-pop of Intercepted Message intertwine.

Taking inspiration from the nervy post-punk pulse of Intercepted Message, Dwyer decided to create SORCS 80 using samplers, approaching the electronics with the finesse of a caveman. Alongside Osees keyboardist Tom Dolas, he hotwired four-track demos through Roland SPD-SX sampling pads, which the pair then triggered with drumsticks. Neither musician plays their signature instrument: Their work comes through the samplers in shards glued together by bassist Tim Hellman and decorated by saxophonists CansFis Foote and Brad Caulkins.

Those saxophones are intended to recall the shambolic soul of Dexys Midnight Runners, another chief inspiration for Dwyer here. If you squint, it’s possible to discern echoes of Searching for the Young Soul Rebels on “Earthling,” where he’s buoyed by nagging horns as he bellows from his gut like Kevin Rowland. Soul isn’t the only style the saxophones stir up: On “Drug City,” the sax conjures the ghost of James Chance, landing squarely between no wave and new wave. What’s fascinating about SORCS 80 is that it feels vaguely rootless—some sounds are familiar but the form is not.

That isn’t to say Dwyer has chucked out hooks or melodies the way he did his guitar. SORCS 80 contains some of his sharpest recent songwriting—the tunes just happen to get transformed by the Osees’ execution. “Termination Officer” shoves its glammed-up chorus through a digital shredder; “Cochon d’Argent” floods with synth burbles and hyperactive beats. Sometimes, the dense electronic fog lifts: “Lear’s Ears” has enough air in its rhythms to suggest funk, a trick replicated on “Also the Gorilla…,” which pairs the album’s nimblest groove with one of its catchiest tunes.

Hooks or even individual songs are hardly the point, though. SORCS 80 is an immersive listen. Hearing the Osees wrestle with their equipment, forcing the instruments—and themselves—to behave in ways they are not accustomed is a visceral experience. Bashing away at samplers as if they’re drums, the band sounds like it’s breaking out of the cave and into the modern world.

Osees: Sorcs 80

$27 at Rough Trade