Led by frontman Syd Minksy-Sargeant, the rising British outfit Working Men’s Club exploded into the national and international scene with the release of 2020’s self-titled, full-length debut. Featuring some songs written when Minsky-Sargeant was 16, the album saw the Working Men’s Club frontman processing a teenage life in Todmorden in England’s Upper Calder Valley. “The first album was mostly a personal documentation lyrically, this is a blur between personal and a third-person perspective of what was going on,” Minsky-Sargeant explains in press notes.
Working Men’s Club highly-anticipated Ross Orton-produced sophomore album Fear Fear is slated for a July 15, 2022 release through Heavenly Recordings. Featuring songs created in the shadow of terror and loss, the album bristles, crackles and pops with defiance while exploring juxtaposition: life and death, acceptance and isolation, hope and despair, environment and humanity, the real world and the digital world. And while Fear Fear reportedly documents the past two years with all its bleakness and uncertainty, the album’s material is rooted in hope and empathy. “I like the contrast of it being happy, uplifting music and really dark lyrics. It’s not a minimal record, certainly compared to the first one,” Minsky-Sargeant says. “That’s because there’s been a lot more going on that needed to be said.”
Fear Fear‘s latest single “Ploys” has received praise internationally from BrooklynVegan, Northern Transmissions, Vanyaland, NME and a lengthy list of others. And that’s not surprising. The song is a decidedly 80s New Order inspired banger, centered around a dense layered production featuring tweeter and woofer rattling 808s, glistening synth arpeggios, a relentless groove and Minsky-Sargeant’s irony-drenched vocals paired with an enormous hook.
But despite the retro sound and feel, the song is rooted in a deeply modern sense of disconnection, uncertainty, crippling insecurity and anxiety; the song essentially is the theme song to a Tinder/Hinge/OKCupid date gone terribly off to the point of not being salvageable.
The accompanying video follows a determined woman in the gym as she dead lifts. But it’s shot through a grainy and glitchy VHS-like fuzz and effects that find the weights being dropped in unison with the 808s of the song.
