A Laughing Death in Meatspace

The opening track "You Let My Tyres Down" is a garage rock[6] and blues rock[29] song with a tempo of 132 beats per minute.[31] The song "explodes with distortion laden blues guitar, that brings to mind the guitar melodies of Built to Spill or Teenage Fanclub, if the distortion were cranked to eleven and channeled through Jon Spencer styled blues."[25] The song has been described as a "a blues-rock titan worthy of Cream’s finest freakouts"[29] which opens with "the cleanest thematic riff on the LP".[22] The lyrics, set in the Sunshine suburb of Melbourne, have been described as a "a frightful character study of a renegade youth who’s in jail for attacking a mall cop."[29] The song incorporates several personal details from Liddiard's own childhood in Perth,[26] and also explores economic inequality "as [he] yelps and spits irreverent lyrics capturing the violence all along the edge of the class divide."[32] Liddiard's vocal performance on this track has earned comparisons to that of Nick Cave in that "[t]here’s an awareness of the darkness, and a kind of sneering, self-effacing humor that drags syllables beyond their natural end."[33] The song "informs Meatspace both on lyrical and musical content. Something feels broken about the instruments. The guitars just a microtone off, the drums shuddering on the beat and the bass creeping up like kudzu vines. This perfectly complements Liddiard’s sharp eye for systems rusting and breaking into pieces, taking human sacrifice as they groan their last."[29]

The lyrics to "You Let My Tyres Down" are set in the Sunshine suburb of Melbourne (whose town centre is pictured here).

"Antimatter Animals" has been described as a "disjointed loop", featuring "synthesized splats and bleeps [that] add a machined feel to its already robotic stride and droning low end."[22] The song "fizzes with venom as Liddiard, Dunn and Hammel chant, “Your politics ain’t nothing but a fond fuck-you”" towards the end.[24] Composition-wise, the song "draws on nursery rhyme sensibilities: nihilism, the slow gruesome peaks and troughs of civilisation thinly veiled by dead-eyed cuteness/deranged pop melodies, misanthropy. It reads like the spiritual disfigurement of 'A Ring around the Rosie', appropriated and cosmically aberrated to echo in the year 2018."[32] Kitschin's distorted bass playing on this song has been described as "all-consuming".[32] "Even at a less intense pace and instrumentation," Kris Handel writes for Post-Trash, "the frustration and disappointments carry a powerful intensity that TFS know how to fully capitalize upon."[5] In an interview with Spectrum Culture, Liddiard agreed that the song "[deals] with coming to terms with being forgotten" and "being made redundant", despite acknowledging "a tongue in cheek element" in the lyrics.[16]

"Chameleon Paint", the first single from the album, "starts like it’s going to be synthpop, but layers fractured guitar lines over the groove almost immediately", and features a "singalong chorus" in which Kitschin & Dunn engage in vocal call and response with Liddiard.[23][24] In it, "Dunn’s seasick, off-key riffs jostle with Kitschin’s overdriven bassline and Hammel’s brutal pounding, while Liddiard yowls over the top in his distinctive nasal ’Strayan."[24] The song has been described as a "sequel to The Drone’s [sic] track, 'The Minotaur', which appeared on the 2008 album Havilah. This track [...] is a spectacular astral projection of Havilah-era guitar tones and themes."[32] The lyrics are "a damning indictment on holier than thou behaviour and social media surveillance"[4] and sees Liddiard "[flipping] a not so elegant bird to armchair commentators and airhead TV personalities [...] “And all this scot-free moralising’s got/ Me quite demoralized” he admits, scrolling through Twitter and seeing a cavalcade of internet warriors who never get off their asses."[29]

"The Future Of History" has been described as a "fuzz-laden rhumba [...] guitar strings bent to a choke as the track swings, a multi-syllabic hook melodically rapped over a warped and blocky kick drum."[22] The song sees the band take "a funkier turn"[2] on what has been further described as "[a] seriously demented dance tune, [which] grooves and bops along a maxed out beat, accompanied by percussive muted guitars and an unsettling cheshire cat grin of chattering bursts of distortion."[32] The lyrics describe the 1996-97 chess matches between Garry Kasparov and the IBM Deep Blue chess computer.[26][24][33] It has been praised as being "probably the sexiest song about chess ever made",[29] and as a "highlight of narrative songwriting, not only on this album, across most albums that have been released so far [in 2018]."[33] The song "[imagines] the very possible future where the robots taking all the work isn’t a utopia, but a hellscape of inequality."[29] It has been called the album's "thematic centrepiece, [...] Nearly every line is an acerbic zinger".[24] In the song's chorus, the band "[tangles] model numbers of retro IBM microprocessors with catchy choruses about technological horrorshows."[32]

The scarecrow from The Wizard of Oz (W.W. Denslow's illustration of which is pictured here) is referenced towards the end of "Soft Power" as a metaphor for the U.S..

The fifth track "Two Afternoons" "attacks in a ferocious manner with squealing and screaming guitars fighting for space between extremely forceful drum work and chanting-esque vocals that create a hum that covers the sonic atmosphere."[5] It features "little keyboard breaks that add a bit of a middle-eastern influence to the sound."[5] It's rhythm section has been described as "loping" and "driving", the latter adjective also used in describing its "effects-laden" guitarwork.[25][6][23] The lyrics have been described as a "not so flattering examination of organized religion"[25] and as "a modern reimagining of 'Zorba The Greek'. Tropical Fuck Storm [...] reincarnates Zorba’s musings on religion, life, and being working class in a masterful sonic koan; boiling images of hope and escape."[32] On being asked about the contrasting parts of the song, Liddiard replied that the band tried structuring it like a Beatles track: "each of those pieces need to be so different from one another that we’ll literally record them completely separate from one another. On a different day in a different place. And the only thing we’d have in mind would be the tempo, it would be the only common thing."[16]

On "Soft Power", a "sluggish garage blues number",[34] the band "[take] things down a notch as they once again find a pocket in a groove that pushes everything along and works very nicely with Lilliard’s [sic] unique vocal flow and ranting."[5] The song also "enforces the importance of Kitschin": "As the quartet’s arrangement seems to collapse into a workable boom-bap, Liddiard spills his verses [...], observations and fantasies dystopic as Kitschin’s vocal captures the track’s anxiety, her simple repetition of phrases effective against the noisy collection of sounds behind her."[22] Her and Dunn's backing vocals were also emphasized by Michael Toland, who further noted the use of "shrieking feedback" and "understated drums" on the song.[23] The track "slowly builds to a near-apocalyptic crescendo."[24] At 3:10, the song "cuts off mid-yelp, like the goon squad finally cracked down on this nuttiness, leaving a ghostly chorus in the wake of the rip-roaring guitar."[29] The coda that makes up the latter half of the song has been described as "powerfully melancholic".[24] Lyrically, the song has been described as the "culmination" of Liddiard's fury "at the techies and the Facebook culture wars. The constant shouting from Democrats of “they go low, we go high” falls deaf on his jaded ears when he’s staring “Oompa Loompa with the nukes” in the eyes. “Fuck soft power” he hollers, demanding an end to hand-wringing, “influence” and “persuasion” as the rules of combat when the other side is wielding a flamethrower."[29] The song "blurs the line between present and post-apocalyptic states" and "finishes with a quiet goodbye to the characters of Happy Days and the scarecrow from The Wizard of Oz",[32] while its lyrical themes "[cycle] from nuclear arms to class inequality to the impending release of Top Gun 2, unable to bring anything into focus."[34] The track's contrasting use of "jovial pop culture references while the world burns" has earned comparisons to Childish Gambino's "This Is America".[32] In an interview with Spectrum Culture, Liddiard mentioned that the second half of the track was recorded separately, and that he thought the bass-line "was cool ‘cause it sounded like an Ice-T song called “Colors” [...] I remember seeing it on TV and thinking “Holy shit, what the fuck is this?” It was the heaviest thing I’d ever seen, heaviest music I’d ever heard."[16]

"Shellfish Toxin" is an instrumental.[23][22] It begins with the sounds of "seagulls laugh[ing] and the rapid-fire of sci-fi weapons blast[ing] in the distance, incidental sounds eventually fading out as some guitar notes are plucked and synthesized tones waver. A slow drum arrangement enters, with a breathy vocal introduced as accompaniment."[22] The song "gradually deteriorates like an acid trip at the beach gone wrong" and has been described as the album's most "anomalous" song.[2] The "deliberately meandering instrumental [...] takes Liddiard into new territory"[23] and has been described as "a queasily beautiful pastiche of surf-rock, Joe Meek and Frank Churchill-esque Hollywood schmaltz."[24] "There’s a hymnal quality to this track" observes We Are Raw Meat, "think Twin Peaks theme meets St Kilda."[32] In interviews, Liddiard stated that the song's title was a reference to the CIA project MKNAOMI "which used shellfish poisoning against enemy agents, which wasn’t made to kill them but make them feel dreadful and insane for a while. Maybe while they were on a mission or something."[12][35]

The "dreamy, sprawling"[36] title track has been described as "a moody slowburner"[24] that is "mostly subdued and slow, though balanced by moments of intensity."[22] The song "concludes with an optimistic key change, sanguine chants pouring from a silo of twisted riffs and night terrors."[32] Lyrically, the song takes the themes explored previously on "The Future Of History" "to [their] logical conclusion: the post-apocalyptic wasteland that’s left after Silicon Valley’s tech lords’ accelerationist philosophy has burned the planet to a crisp."[24] "As is the trademark of other tracks on the album", notes We Are Raw Meat, the song "is a potluck of (pop) cultural references sewn into a pastiche embodying annihilation."[32]

The UPP (pictured here) is one of many Brazilian references present in the final stanza of "Rubber Bullies".

The "ominous" and "hypnotic" final track "Rubber Bullies", the album's longest at over 6 minutes, opens with a "malevolent chuckle".[37] It features "slinky bass" and "staccato guiatrs"[6] that are "[a]nchored by Kistchin and Hammel, their rhythm section reserved and patient for most of the track’s runtime".[22] Described as being driven by a "total sense of calamity",[38] the song "details a world overloaded by advertising, run by “plutocrats and sycophants” and filled with “Foot long subdivisions/So cheap they won’t outlast/Your disapproval or their doormats”."[38] The stream of consciousness lyrics are delivered "[w]ith the conversational pace of a man telling a story" and consist of "the narrator’s impressions of his surroundings and the futility of the experiences he details [...] [,] ending the album with [...] an air of pensiveness, the last words being, “Oh. How? Why? Where we goin’ now?”"[22] They "[start] in a supermarket aisle - where the air conditioned air is too cold - before continuing the theme of ‘conditioning’ by riffing through a list-like barrage of consumeristic deathpits; alluding to the housing crisis in Australia as well as the morally vacuous vortex that is the relationship between landlords/developers/politics."[32] Liam Martin, on the other hand, called it "a sermon to escapism and vapid travelers."[2] The title of the track has been interpreted as a play on rubber bullets, which are "used to disperse riots and protests."[32] On being asked about the Brazilian references (particularly to Rio de Janeiro and the UPP[39]) in the final stanza, Liddiard revealed that most of it was personal in nature.[16]

The Guardian writes: "The album title links “meatspace” – as Silicon Valley engineers derogatorily refer to the physical realm – with a neurodegenerative disorder called kuru, once found in the Fore people of Papua New Guinea. Men would eat the muscles of the deceased, while women and children ate the brains, thereby inheriting Creutzfeldt-Jakob disease and pot-holing their own grey matter to such an extent that they lost control of their emotions and laughed themselves to death."[26] "The linking of concepts" in the title "could also be read as a play on internet meme culture - the replication, appropriation, aberration, and dissemination of imagery across the cultural vortex of cyberspace works precisely like an untreated circulatory infection; a laughing virus."[32]

The cover for the album was designed by Montreal-based artist Joe Becker.[40] After the artwork (titled "The King" in the liner notes to the LP release[41]) was revealed, Liddiard wrote on Facebook: "It looks like it [the album] sounds."[42] Tiny Mix Tapes ranked it the 3rd best album cover art of 2018.[43]

The animated video for "Chameleon Paint", released in September 2017 through the band's official YouTube channel, was described by IMPOSE as "a 2D arcade video game straight out of the late 80s" filled with "references to technology as well as ongoing social problems."[50] "Soft Power"'s video, released in November 2017, was partly shot in a disused studio "set up like an old House of Horrors" in Little Rock, Arkansas and featured the band members dressed in costumes.[51]

The video for a shorter version of "You Let My Tyres Down", released in January 2018, depicts a dinner sequence featuring the band played in reverse.[52] "Rubber Bullies"' video was released in April 2018 through the same channel. The video to "The Future of History", described by Gigwise as "Black Mirror x The Mighty Boosh x The Cardiacs", was released on 28 September 2018 through Joyful Noise Recordings' official YouTube channel.[53]

On the 20 May 2018, A Laughing Death In Meatspace peaked briefly at #25 on the ARIA Charts.[55] In the US, where the album was released through Joyful Noise Recordings, the album briefly peaked at #46 and #17 on the Billboard Independent Albums and Heatseekers Album charts respectively on the 10th of November.[56][57]

Professional ratings

Aggregate scores
Source	Rating
Metacritic	80/100[58]
Review scores
Source	Rating
AllMusic	[2]
Blurt	[23]
Exclaim!	7/10[6]
Loud and Quiet	9/10[4]
Mojo	[59]
OndaRock	7/10[60]
Q	[61]
Tom Hull	B+ ()[62]
Uncut	8/10[63]
Vice (Expert Witness)	A−[64]

The album received a Metacritic score of 80 based on 10 reviews, indicating "[g]enerally favorable reviews".[58] The Quietus noted that "[s]tarting a new project unencumbered by the Drones’ name or weighty reputation seems to have given Liddiard the freedom to jettison the last remaining trappings of rock traditionalism in his songwriting and let loose, with impressive results."[24] Robert Christgau reviewing the album for Noisey praised the contributions of the band's female members, without which Liddiard's "sociohistorical ravings might evoke a woke Nick Cave flexing his baritone." Despite criticizing his lyrics as being "seldom head-on" in terms of history, he writes that "Liddiard's songs are more sociopolitically situated than less verbose types generally manage, plus there's a Trump number where an Oompa Loompa brandishes drones and nukes [...] In most rock, this kind of dark joke comes off cheap if not stupid. Tropical Fuck Storm know how to scare you with them."[64] Spectrum Culture wrote that "[t]here's a newfound focus on A Laughing Death in Meatspace. The Drones were an explicitly political band, but TFS is even sharper in their dissections of corruption and xenophobia in a melting world."[29] Loud and Quiet described the album as "observant and eviscerating, clever wordplay tangled up in sharply boomeranging riffs [...] the soundtrack to the last party at the end of the world."[4] Blurt's Michael Toland was similarly positive, calling the album "both a retrenchment and an evolution" with respect to the Drones' latter-day releases. He concludes: "It’s a combination of old and new, letting Liddiard play to his strengths as a writer while letting a new band paint his compositions in different colors. That blend of comfort and risk makes A Laughing Death in Meatspace one of the best rock records of 2018."[23]

More mixed reviews came from Exclaim!, who wrote that "[w]hile their debut record doesn't have the lasting power of King Gizzard or Tame Impala's best work, it still shows a group unafraid to take risks and get messy, and their exploration results in some interesting material."[6] Mojo wrote that the band's "wonky rock discordance is not quite as provocative as they perhaps think. Nevertheless, there's still plenty to be enjoyed here." [59]

Both Thalia Zedek and Conan Neutron named it their favorite album of the year, with the latter calling it "[a]bsolutely powerful stuff. Great songs with incredible left turns. Moody, claustrophobic and staggeringly self aware, like a sentient computer raised on Bill Hicks comedy specials, Howard Zinn, Black MIrror [sic] and Twin Peaks. [...] It’s a hell of a ride."[65][66] In an interview in 2019, Britt Daniel mentioned his love for the band and called the album "[f]antastic. [Gareth Liddard's] lyrics are so good."[67] DMA's ranked the track "You Let My Tyres Down" as their favorite song of the year for Triple J Hottest 100.[68] In an interview with Pitchfork, New Weird author Jeff VanderMeer cited the album as one of many influences on his 2019 novel Dead Astronauts.[69]

The users of Sputnikmusic voted it one of the 50 best albums of 2018.[70] Q included the track "You Let My Tyres Down" on their list of the top 20 tracks of 2018.[71] The following year, The Music Network would include the track on their list of "The 100 best Australian songs of the decade",[72] while Junkee went on to include the track "Chameleon Paint" on their list of "The 200 Greatest Australian Songs Of All Time" (which was partially based on submissions from other Australian musicians).[73] French webzine Mowno included the album on their list of the 100 best albums of the decade.[74]

* designates unordered lists.

The album was longlisted for the Australian Music Prize of 2018,[88] but failed to make the shortlist.[89] The album was also nominated for "Best Rock/Punk Album" at the Music Victoria Awards of 2018, losing out to the self-titled album from Little Ugly Girls.[90]

Adapted from AllMusic and liner notes:[91][41]