BAM by Binary Audio Misfits: A Genre-Bending Headtrip from 2010
Alright, buckle up—Binary Audio Misfits’ BAM is the kind of album that makes you wonder if your headphones are haunted. Released in 2010 under Platinum Records (France, baby!), this mashup of Hip Hop, Rock, and Alternative vibes feels like a chaotic house party where no one agrees on the playlist—but somehow it works.
Let’s get into the guts of this beast. The lineup here reads like an underground superhero team: Vocals? Jaysin, Michel Cloup, Muggzy, and Omari got that covered. Guitars? Michel Cloup shredding his way through existence. Bass and electronics? Francisco Esteves pulling double duty like a mad scientist DJ. Together, they’ve created something wild enough to make your Spotify algorithm cry for help.
Tracks That Stick Like Glue
First off, let’s talk about “Lâchez Les Chiens”. If you don’t speak French—and I barely do—it roughly translates to “Release the Dogs.” And holy smokes, does this track feel like being chased by a pack of rabid hounds. The bassline hits harder than your ex’s text messages, while the vocals bounce between gritty rap verses and melodic chaos. It’s catchy as hell, but there’s also this weird sense of urgency, like you’re late for some apocalyptic rave. You’ll remember this one because it’s impossible not to. Seriously, try humming anything else after hearing it—you can’t.
Then there’s “Get Loud Or Get Dyin’”, which might just be my new life motto. This track slaps so hard, I’m surprised my speakers didn’t file a restraining order. It’s got crunchier guitar riffs than a bag of chips at midnight, paired with lyrics sharp enough to cut glass. There’s a moment halfway through where everything drops out except for these eerie electronic bleeps—it’s like someone hit pause on reality for five seconds before slamming back into overdrive. By the time it ends, you’re either sweating profusely or questioning all your life choices. Probably both.
Why BAM Still Bangs
What sets BAM apart isn’t just its genre-blurring audacity; it’s how unapologetically raw it feels. These guys weren’t trying to fit neatly into any box—they built their own damn box, set it on fire, then recorded the sound. Even the skits (like “Vik Skit”) add flavor instead of filler, keeping things unpredictable without overstaying their welcome.
And sure, tracks like “Church Of Disorder” and “No Time Like Now” lean heavier into philosophical musings than your average banger, but even those cuts have teeth. They’re not afraid to challenge listeners, which is refreshing in an era dominated by cookie-cutter pop hits.
Final Thoughts
If you’re looking for background music to zone out to, skip this. But if you want an album that grabs you by the collar and demands attention, BAM delivers in spades. Listening to it feels like stumbling upon a secret club where everyone speaks a language you half-understand but totally vibe with anyway.
Oh, and fun fact: despite coming out in 2010, this album still sounds fresher than most stuff released last week. Maybe Binary Audio Misfits invented a time machine? Either way, hats off to them.
So go ahead, give BAM a spin. Just don’t blame me when your neighbors start complaining about the noise—or when you find yourself shouting “Lâchez Les Chiens!” during awkward silences at dinner parties.
