September 29, 2026 by A.S. Van Dorston

Detroit post-punkers’ haunted hotel concept album is one of their best.

Since forming in 2008, Protomartyr have slowly but steadily built up a fan base who increasingly appreciate their progression from gritty garage punk/noir to post-punk that incorporates an increasingly wider palatte including goth, jazz-rock, art rock and Italian Westerns. Greg Ahee is a relatively unheralded guitar hero who shapes the music with his inventive licks and chord shapes, reminding me of the similarly underrated Afghan Whigs’ Rick McCollum in spirit, if not technique. Joe Casey has raised his game with his first concept album, critiquing the current decrepit State-of-the-Union with the metaphor of a broken down, haunted hotel. Casey’s handmade cover of an eagle suggests a kind of inverted take on the Eagles’ louche decadence of Hotel California (1976). It’s a theme most people can easily get onboard with, and perhaps their seventh could be an overdue breakthrough album.

With the weariness of trying to drive through the night trying not to nod off, the band gives in and reluctantly checks in at “The Old Hotel.” The elevator is broken, of course, and they laboriously drag their gear up the stairs, the faint sound of lounge jazz playing down in the grubby lobby. David Fridmann is in the producer’s seat, which could make me wary, as his clangy in-the-red drum sound can be fatiguing. However when he’s engaged in the creative process, you get this, one of the best albums he’s been associated with in years. His son Jon contributes horns and arrangements which add a distinct flavor to several tracks, including “Sounds We Cannot Hear,” an early highlight. These new elements continue to set Protomartyr apart from any scenes or trends, and seals their destiny as trailblazers.

“Converts” is anchored by Ahee’s stabbing guitar licks, ruminating on the decaying spirit of American people perpetually bombarded by propaganda and lies meant to exploit fear, manipulate faith and weaponize them. “Exalted Eagles” simmers while Casey spits his lyrics into a dirty sink with a steady cadence that bears some resemblance to Tropical Fuck Storm’s Gareth Liddiard, while “Knife Dream” might appeal to fans of another Aussie Nick Cave, particularly more recent work.

“Feed the Sewer” is one of the band’s most aggressive songs, doing battle with AI in what sounds like the post-industrial nightmare data centers will soon plunge much of our country into. “Lavender-Gospel” may be a slow burn, but it’s one of the most unique standouts, the haunted horns sounding like ghostly remnents of a lost dub recording set to a hybrid of post-rock melancholy (think Tortoise’s masterpiece “Gamera”) and meditative ambience. “Third Country” revisits the desert rock sound of their previous album, offering a requiem for people violently deported by our neo-fascist police state.

“Checking Out” is an appropriately epic closer inching toward eight minutes. On the surface it might sound subdued, but there’s a lot going on within with changes in the drum patterns, blooms of guitar noise flare with seething rage then fade. Casey’s lyrics throughout the album have sharper teeth than anything previously, balancing dread, outrage, and morning for a fading Republic.

Six Album Run Club Update

Since album #7 is not only better than their debut but one of their best, the quality of Protomartyr’s 6 album run has improved, moving them up in the rankings of 21st Century bands to the Lucky 13.