Here Comes Success finds Band Of Susans pushing their layered‑guitar aesthetic to its logical and sometimes illogical conclusions. Working with a small army of six‑string players, they build towering walls of overdrive and feedback, but instead of chaos the record aims for a kind of industrial hypnosis: riffs and overtones cycling for minutes at a time, rhythms hammering forward, voices deadpan and half‑buried in the mix. It is both their most saturated and most controlled statement, a document of a band finding beauty not in restraint but in the precise management of overload.

Across the album, tightly wound patterns repeat until they dissolve into texture, then reform as new shapes, often with small shifts in harmony or metre that feel seismic inside the drone. Drums and bass lock into relentless figures that borrow as much from minimalism and krautrock as from post‑punk. The songs’ lyrics hint at ambition, burnout and the absurdity encoded in the idea of “success”, but the real subject is sound itself: how far it can be stretched, how much information can be packed into a single chord before it becomes something else. Here Comes Success stands as a definitive statement from an overlooked cornerstone of late‑80s/early‑90s guitar experimentation, still startling in its density and purpose.