By the time Coughs’ debut, Fright Makes Right was released on cd by Load in 2005 (it had been issued earlier in a vinyl-only pressing on Mythologie), the band had already moved past the material contained therein, and anyone who heard the band’s debut and subsequently saw them live was likely left feeling more than a little short changed by the disc. It was good, but didn’t come close to packing the punch that Coughs did live circa early summer, 2005. Secret Passage, the Chicago sextet’s second effort, comes much closer to the kick in the gut that a live Coughs performance can be, and since contemporary recording technology makes it impossible for Jail Flanagan to leap from the speakers, sax-first, into the listener’s chest, this excellent album might be as close as Coughs can get, and that's not so bad at all.
The sonic density of the live Coughs experience was what Fright Makes Right was missing, the aggression and abrasiveness were there, but the sheer force of an in-person viewing didn’t make it onto the recording. Secret Passage manages to capture at least some of the power of Coughs’ discordant din, mainly through higher fidelity and a brawnier low end. The clattering percussion is more forceful, along with Carrie Vinarsky’s sludgy bass. Vanessa Harris’ guitar can be an angular needle to the ears, and Jail Flanagan’s sax and synth aren’t any smoother. Vocalist Anya Davidson, as always, lets loose with her distinctive voice, snarling, wailing, calling and chanting in an explosion of cathartic energy. Coughs’ sound is one of aural bombardment, though the pummeling punishment comes in a tighter package than one might expect. Jon Ziemba and Seth Sher, on oil drums and more conventional percussion, are the backbone of the band, and their adamant racket, however caustic, pounds out heavy rhythms of a junkyard-tribal quality, the tether to rock music that serves as Coughs’ secret weapon. As jarring as the band can be, those who can withstand Coughs rough advances will discover a band whose core is surprisingly simple. Repetition acts as a catalyst for the band’s pummeling momentum, each musician’s part is one of few complexities, but the combined effect of their contributions is as easy to handle as bucking bronco.
There’s still no substitute for seeing Coughs live, but this album isn’t so bad a consolation prize for those who are unable. Any resident of Chicago worth their salt should tell you that Coughs are the city’s best rock band, and while they really ought to be seen to be believed, Secret Passage offers enough evidence that listeners worldwide ought to soon be numbered among the converted.
