How do you anchor heavy metal in an urban setting? It’s not easy when the origins of the genre are in escapism, fantasy, challenging the Christian establishment, and glorifying martial history. Hardcore has been more successful in producing gritty music. After all, Harvey Flanagan was a homeless teenager in New York when he wrote most of the debut Cro-Mags album. But maybe Scottish sludge metal rockers, Gout, have the answer to the opening question. Their approach is radical: they decided to be themselves. No flamboyance, no flashy guitar solos, no posturing, yet much of what they do could grace any kitchen sink drama.
The spaced-out staccato intro to ‘Inmate’ is sharp and heavy and dripping with hyperactive anguish. You can visualise a theatrical performance art aspect to the way Ally Scott communicates his pain, perhaps with the aid of a mannequin to represent his alter ago (“Won’t somebody help me / There’s a stranger in my skin”). Here, the drummer prefers to sustain the tension for as long as possible before finding a kick-snare rhythm. The efficient secret is the way the band play the same chunky riff for the entirety of the song and switch the drums to a double-timing beat with the bass adding its intricate phrasing. Who says you can’t turn up, plug in, and play these days?
Gout have no interest in manipulating their music with digital enhancements at the mixing desk. This music is as grim as it reads on paper, but you’re a front-row spectator, and you can’t excuse yourself to use the toilet. “Too bleak, I’ll give you something to talk about,” roars Ally Scott in a manic hysteria for track two. The audio engineering is straight from the Melvins playbook with dry drum skins and muffled palm-muted guitars that sound like Fu Manchu covering Metallica. Imagine a stoner metal offering steeped in paranoia rather than peace and harmony.
There are many surprises here, many of them musical costume changes that you could not foresee after the opening two songs. ‘I Am a Beacon of Health and Wellbeing’ is proof that sludge metal draws as much from hardcore as metal for its DNA, yet it also sails close to Korn’s claustrophobic Life is Peachy era in its production and guitar tone. You can even hear a warped interpretation of garage rock in the DNA of this song. Likewise, the playful nod to noise rock in ‘Junk Sick’ is noteworthy for its fuzzy bassline as much as its dissonant guitar arpeggios. A threat of “you’re coming down with me,” receives the low-end groove at the right time here. Plectrums catch the loose strings as the group work through the pain with a smile on their faces. The fact they don’t even bother to hide their Glaswegian accents is their greatest weapon. This is sludgy noise metal anchored in an urban nightmare that’s vivid enough to transport you to Scotland’s second city far more effectively than anything available in Google Earth imagery or in an edgy YouTube video.
The spoken word narrative at the beginning of closing effort, ‘Tarmac’, pulsates with frustration. “I’m the eldest of two, you’re the youngest of three / I’m tarmac to you / You can walk all over me,” laments Ally Scott as if sat alone on stage pondering his life. “I want to be anything instead of me,” he cries. Like the opener, it emphasises the simplicity of the same chord sequence to build tension through repetition. Your first instinct is to press play again, and your second thought it how you could create a music video for this music based on your favourite (and most intense) Robert Carlyle scenes.
Kirk Houghton
Verdict
Release Date: 17/04/2026
Record Label: Self-released
Standout tracks: Too Bleak; Tarmac
Suggested Further Listening: King Marm – Trash (2020), mclusky – The World is Still Here and so are We (2025), Under – What Happened in Roundwood (2026)