I’ve never really liked Steve Albini -- as a person, a bandleader or a producer. In my eyes he’s always been a hypocrite, preaching an indier-than-thou aesthetic while at the same time galivanting off to produce big budget albums by groups like Bush and Page & Plant, solely for the large chunk of change that accompanies such duties. But on the other hand, he was a member of the pioneering Big Black and produced Nirvana’s In Utero, both of which require that you show some respect and give credit where credit is due, even if you don’t happen to agree with everything that comes out of his big mouth.

Along those same lines, I’ve never been too impressed by Shellac's work. It always seemed to me that three men this talented were capable of much more. Sure, At Action Park had a few moments of brilliance, but overall it was bland and lifeless -- and I’m not even going to start talking about what’s wrong with Terraform. That's why I was surprised -- no, make that shocked -- by what I heard on 1000 Hurts. The annoying King Crimson-aping art-wank and infernal Albini screaming are gone. In their place stand ten white-hot blasts of lean, muscular and brutal punk fucking rock. Oh, and Steve actually sings this time.

You won’t believe it until you actually hear him do it on the opener, “Prayer to God”. Over grainy staccato riffs and a viciously propulsive bass line he croons, not screams, “Kill him already kill him, fucking kill him already kill him” -- then ends with a succinct “Amen”. That segues right into the muscular rhythmic workout of “Squirrel Song”, which finds Todd and Bob’s playing tighter than ever. “Mama Gina” is chock full of filthy guitars, odd bursts of melody, Steve’s nearly heartfelt lament and one closing blast of unholy noise.

Still, it wasn’t until I heard 1000 Hurts’ final two songs that I was truly won over by Albini & Co. “Shoe Song” rides a wave of feedback and harmonic dissonance over Trainer’s delirious pounding, while “Watch Song” sees Albini revert back to his trademark vocal growl amidst a sea of gritty guitars and bombastic rhythmic shifts. It's a ferocious way to end a ferocious album.

As usual, the band has gone all out with their packaging. Both the CD and LP editions of 1000 Hurts come housed in mock reel-to-reel tape boxes emblazoned with the Shellac logo. Always the analog proponent, Albini has made sure to see that those souls who buy the LP are treated especially well. Not only does it come pressed on audiophile quality 180-gram virgin vinyl, but you also get a CD copy of the album for convenient listening purposes! Perhaps all that money from Page & Plant has gone to good use after all.