Atomic Train 2025
No-nonsense heavy, if quite sensitive, assault from Quebecois quartet who threaten their audience with a bout of good time.
Atomik Train
Not every idea concocted in the period of Covid has proven fruitful, yet this foursome, who released a pair of singles at the end of 2021 and then took their sweet time with a follow-up in the form of a full album, finally delivered on the promise of the pandemic-dated songs. The Montrealers’ debut longplay may not pursue stylistic originality, but its ten originals press all the right buttons, while a cover of fellow Canadians’ classic number pays homage to the era that inspired the ensemble in the first place. Still, as no-frills riffs drive the action devised by guitarist Junior Bourcier, and Francois Babin’s vocals lay down memorable refrains, which bassist Yves Maltais and drummer Alex Guilbault propel to catharsis, the collective trade their chosen genre’s usual menace for merriment and an occasional flight of fantasy. Not stuck on metal and not stopping at hard rock frontiers, they aim for gutsy, gusty lines destined to pull the listener close rather than blow the punter away.
Not for nothing, the platter’s finale “Deal With It” doesn’t have an iota of alienation in its rock ‘n’ roll chords which warrant return to the record’s start and subsequent repeated spins, and not for nothing opener “Supersonik Speedway” chugs along with streamlined vigor, building a hefty momentum and resolving impetus in six-string attack and catchy chorus. So although “Destination” feels a bit hysterical, that’s the sort of energy arenas lap up, but when ATOMIK TRAIN channel the same on-the-edge mood into “Lunatic Fringe” from RED RIDER’s repertoire to dissolve the sadness cinematic passages of “Back On Earth” send into the ether, the group’s swing and sway get grounded and symptoms of grandiosity come to the fore. However, whereas “Long Way Down” charts a similar bluesy path, there’s delicious ferocity in this cut’s flow – augmented in “Playground” with swampy licks and punk-like abandon, and in “Animal Fire” and “Never Again” with delirious swirl of suburban ennui and anthemic, almost symphonic uplift.
That’s why the seemingly superficial “I’m A Winner, I’m A Loser” is required: to tie all these elements into a commercially smelling knot of despair and euphoria – and a chant which one will find impossible not to join in. And that’s why “Reborn” grooves without a shadow of a smile. until voices weave a mellifluous harmony underneath the piece’s aggressive drift. The results are magnetic – and this allure should not be lost by a wait for the quartet’s sophomore effort.
****2/3
