Everything that makes them so compelling is here, but never has it felt quite this catchy

You can check out but you’ll never leave the Detroit post-punks’ new concept album, which grimly parodies the United States’ ugliest realities as odious guests at a cursed hotel

Protomartyr's different releases exhibit varying degrees of sombreness. While Hotel Usona can feel unifying in its purpose, detailing the frightening conditions of a nation, it also presents them in strange, deeply uncomfortable ways. It’s the Lost Highway of David Lynch films, one might say

Over these nine songs, Protomartyr again nudge the sonic boundaries of post-punk, all the while confronting sublime emotional states and urgent sociocultural issues

Hotel Usona is the perfect accompaniment for Protomartyr's dark themes. It's a calculated mess, grandiose pomp in squalid decay, a steely examination of the modern moment

It is undoubtedly the most mature collection of songs the band released yet and that excitement that appears every time they announce a new LP paid off once more

Hotel Usona is a stunning merger of form and content, and a State of the Union address as important as it is fiery

For newcomers, it's a perfectly moody entry point. Hotel Usona is the sound of a band settling into their own skin, creating a space that's uniquely theirs and generously sharing the key

The album is more eerie in tone than its predecessors, like a distant alarm sounding, trying to amplify the sounds we cannot hear

From singer Joe Casey’s handmade album artwork to drummer Alex Leonard’s impish, kinetic inversions of classic post-punk rhythm, the Detroit band crafts an austere, unflinching record as bleak as it is cathartic

It’s a bleak listen, sure, but Protomartyr haven’t ever been the comforting types. In fact, they’ve chosen the perfect time to double down on their righteous anger and despair, and if everything were to come to a catastrophic end right now, you’ve got the perfect soundtrack for it

This is not a hotel you'd want to stay at any time soon, but it's a remarkable record to spend time with. Print edition only

Under dim hotel lights, Casey’s lyricism appears foreboding and alien in a way it never has before